The Xuan Du Monastery remained unchanged. The jade chimes echoed through the halls, marking the hours of Daoist study, the morning bells and evening drums still rang with sonorous grace, the peach blossoms bloomed as ever, and the path of cultivation continued.

The lesser acolytes of the Xuan Du, their duties fulfilled, scattered to the winds, each with their own aspirations. Some, barely beyond the monastery gates, summoned gusts and shrunk the landscape, eager to return to their own immortal abodes, to be revered as patriarchs or serve as imperial preceptors in worldly kingdoms, guardians of the realm. Others, weary of the simple vegetarian fare, rushed to the nearest tavern, seeking to appease their rumbling bellies with rich delicacies. Still others, taking their leave more deliberately, sought the floating docks of immortals, buying gazettes filled with tales of mountains and rivers, flicking away lingering shadows with willow branches, and donning freshly laundered robes. A few stood at the threshold, offering silent bows of farewell to the ancient sanctuary.

Among them were those who had forged bitter rivalries, destined to settle scores in the days to come, while others had become fast friends, their bonds tempered in shared experience. Yet one remained, a young Daoist who called himself Sou Dao Ren, stubbornly clinging to his humble duties within the monastery walls.

A fair maiden, still low in the ranks of the Xuan Du, hurried through the gilded halls, two sacred texts tucked beneath her arm. Beyond the corridor lay a courtyard paved with white jade, where ancient trees cast shadows like cool water. She glanced at the broom-wielding Daoist, staring blankly at the sky, and a frown creased her brow. “Why linger,” she wondered, “when one is free to depart? Does he truly relish a life of penitence? The vegetarian fare of our monastery is famously bland!”

This young novice was the very maiden the former abbot had envisioned as the lure, her beauty designed to entice the esteemed Master Lu to willingly join the Xuan Du lineage.

But as her understanding of the Dao deepened, she realized that the lotus-crowned head perched upon the wall, whistling a carefree tune – the very Master Lu of White Jade Citadel – harbored no such intentions of marrying into their order.

As for Sou Dao Ren, once known as Pei Ji, a celestial official of the Immortal Realm and one of Yao Qing’s “Three Corpse Gods,” he had once troubled the Xuan Du. Thus, the venerable Grandmaster Sun had decreed his penance: to remain behind and cleanse the latrines.

Though known for his perpetually solemn demeanor, the youthful-looking Daoist had become a favorite among the younger, uninitiated acolytes. They flocked to his humble chamber, rummaging through his books, engaging in games of hide-and-seek. Despite their tender years and nascent cultivation, the children possessed a keen sensitivity to the moods of adults. And so, Sou Dao Ren was regarded with surprising fondness within the Xuan Du, especially for his rapport with the youngsters.

Today, a distinguished guest arrived at the monastery: Yao Qing of the Azure Divinity Dynasty.

Yao Qing, having ascended to the Fourteenth Realm, warranted an audience with someone of considerable stature. Yet, it was not the acting abbot, nor the un-sequestered Abbot’s Nephew, nor even the supervising Daoist who greeted him. Instead, it was Yan the Stout, a Daoist of ample girth, with a peachwood hairpin adorning his hair and wearing the standard Xuan Du robes, who served as their host.

“Grandmaster Yan,” Yao Qing inquired with a smile, “before I speak with Pei Ji, might I be granted an audience with Master Bai?”

Yan Ming hesitated. “If your Grace does not mind risking a closed door, I could certainly lead you in that direction, to try your luck.”

Then, a compromise struck him. “Perhaps I could inquire on your Grace’s behalf?”

Yao Qing shook his head, chuckling. “Nay, I would not have you make a needless journey.”

Yan Ming beamed. “Your Grace is too kind. I dare not boast of much, but at least during my tenure as host, you may consider the Xuan Du your own home. In the past, the late Grandmaster Sun… rarely spoke ill of other Daoists, but of your Grace, and a select few others, he always had kind words.”

Yao Qing smiled knowingly. “Such words from you, Grandmaster Yan, are welcome, but hardly credible.”

Was it not the late Grandmaster Sun, that champion of justice, famed for his impartiality, who had once jestingly referred to Master Lu as “the White Jade Citadel’s Little Graceful One”?

Yan Ming led Yao Qing to the aforementioned Sou Dao Ren and then politely excused himself.

“Do you know why you alone have been spared?” Yao Qing asked.

Pei Ji continued to sweep, gathering fallen leaves into a wicker basket.

Yao Qing smiled faintly. “It is hardly because I fear to visit the Xuan Du should you linger within its walls. While Grandmaster Sun is indeed fiercely protective, you, Sou Dao Ren, are not a registered member of this monastery. When matters touch upon the very foundations of Yao Qing’s Dao, they become affairs of another order. In such matters, Grandmaster Sun, for both public and private reasons, would not hinder my bringing you back to the Azure Divinity Dynasty, Tao Xiao Daoist Friend, would he?”

“Tao Xiao” was Pei Ji’s Daoist name.

*Tao,* the peach, remains on the tree throughout winter, hanging dried and shrunken, like the severed head of an owl displayed to ward off evil spirits.

Pei Ji remained silent.

Yao Qing continued, “It is indeed regrettable that Xu Juan of the Great Tide Sect preempted you, claiming the path of ghosts as his own.”

Pei Ji finally spoke, his voice low. “And yet, you aid him in protecting his formation?”

“Precisely,” Yao Qing replied. “That is why I must aid him.”

“Do you truly intend to slay the Fourteenth Realm Xu Juan? To bind yourself to the White Jade Citadel?” Pei Ji questioned.

“Perhaps not,” Yao Qing replied.

Accompanying Yao Qing on this visit were two other women: Bai Ou, the imperial preceptor of the dynasty, and Fu Xuanjie, a swordswoman.

—

The decision made by Chen Pingan on behalf of Pei Qian was simple to the point of being un-decisive: “We’ll see about it later.”

The Old Scholar announced his return to the Temple of Literature. Mao Xiaodong’s position as an administrator was not high enough to withstand the pressure.

All words spoken, good, bad, angry, strange, polite, hurtful, would weigh heavily on Pei Qian’s mind.

It was better to say nothing at all.

As for when “later” would be, who could say?

The Old Scholar smiled. “Jiang She, will you accompany me on a walk?”

Jiang She nodded and rose, following the Old Scholar from the house.

Wu Yan summoned Bai Jing. Xie Gou protested vehemently but was overruled by his wife, who dragged him away.

Ning Yao declared her intention to travel to the Southern Saha Continent, taking Pei Qian with her to the Dragon Elephant Sword Sect.

Chen Pingan rearranged the chairs within the house, forming a circle near the doorway, and then, hands clasped in his sleeves, said, “Come in and let us talk.”

Chen Pingan had never harbored any desire to claim Lingxi City as his own. Instead, he had always wished to open a shop in Tiaomu Town.

Liu Xianyang and Cui Dongshan exchanged a high-five.

Little Mo, looking at his Young Master, was filled with remorse, words caught in his throat.

Cui Dongshan patted Little Mo on the shoulder, chuckling. “Little Mo, you nearly unleashed that killing sword of yours, did you not? A moment of impetuousness! Master Jiang and I were both startled. Even the Old Scholar must have been tearing at his beard. If we had stopped you, you’d have felt stifled. If we hadn’t, the Temple of Literature would be holding its meetings on pleasure boats.”

Little Mo did not deny it. If Jiang She dared to draw down the ominous star, Yinghuo, he would unleash his own natal star to block it.

All this time, he had been unable to pinpoint his Young Master’s exact location, until the celestial signs shifted, giving him the opportunity to draw his blade.

What sort of guardian was he?

Finally, Liu Xianyang had intervened, speaking harshly, and Little Mo had relented.

The chairs were arranged in a circle, and they all sat down. Cui Dongshan was the first to break the silence, asking softly, “Are you truly going to give away Shifu’s Golden Ambrosia Robe?”

It was not the robe’s rank as a celestial artifact that concerned him, but rather that it was a token of love, one of the betrothal gifts that Chen Pingan had given to the Ning family.

Chen Pingan lowered his head, rubbed his face with his hands, and said in a low, indistinct voice, “Consider it a repayment of debts. Everything must be settled.”

This was the extent of the aid he could give to Lu Chen.

Chen Pingan glanced at his wrist, where a red string remained tied, though hidden by an illusion. Ning Yao had long since severed that string, but Chen Pingan had kept it.

It was a young Daoist, pushing a cart and offering fortunes, who had first come to Mud Bottle Lane and set in motion Chen Pingan’s destiny.

If not for Lu Chen’s “ill-advised matchmaking,” he might still have met Ning Yao, but things would never have been the same.

One of Lu Chen’s aspects had been a noble figure from the Dragon Tiger Mountain Celestial Master’s Temple. He had died on a solitary island in the distant seas, leaving behind a celestial husk and the Golden Ambrosia Robe, which fell into the Jiao Dragon Trench.

During the battle of Jiao Dragon Trench, Chen Pingan had written a talisman: “Lu Chen’s Edict.”

And before the Dragon-Slaying Campaign, Lu Chen had a significant karmic debt with the Dragon Girl, famed for the “Moxa-Scarred Brow” legend.

Now, Lu Chen was deep within the desolate lands, forcing the White Jade Citadel’s Otherworldly Demon of the False Fifteenth Realm onto the earth.

By refining the Otherworldly Demon, Lu Chen would “sink” it.

Yet, the deeper his entanglement with the world, the harder it would be for him to endure, the less he would “sink,” and the greater the chance that the Otherworldly Demon would break free.

Liu Xianyang rested his sword across his knees and said casually, “Do your best, and leave the rest to fate. There’s no need to overthink it. When busy, be truly busy, and bear the most burden. When idle, be truly idle, and release all your worries.”

Chen Pingan nodded. “I understand the principle.”

Liu Xianyang laughed in exasperation. “I find it strange. You used to be the quietest one, never saying much. Where did you suddenly learn so much philosophy? Did you not pick up coins on your journeys, but only principles?”

Chen Pingan smiled and nodded. “Principles are easier to pick up than coins.”

Liu Xianyang leaned back and kicked Chen Pingan, feigning annoyance. “They’re everywhere, free for the taking, no refunds, right? If you’re so greedy, why didn’t you get anything good from your fight with Jiang She? What principles did you pick up?”

Chen Pingan brushed off his robes, unoffended.

Little Mo admired Liu Patriarch even more. As the Old Scholar had said, as long as Liu Xianyang was around, his Young Master’s sky would never fall.

Cui Dongshan turned and shouted toward the corridor, “Vice-Mountain Master Jiang, we have an agreement. You must earn more money in the future! No more sighing at the sight of wealth!”

Jiang Shangzhen was dejected, lying listlessly in the corridor, pretending to be dead. The ambition to earn money that he had displayed earlier was gone. He had his reasons: he was not provoking Yu Xuan or Liu Jubao. And Zhou Shixi was like a grieving widow, sighing and lamenting on the ground.

It turned out that Cui Dongshan and the others had tricked him. Patriarch Cui had declared with utmost sincerity that he would wholeheartedly recommend his good brother for a promotion, to become a Vice-Mountain Master. But he had not specified whether it was Vice-Mountain Master of Fallen Phoenix Mountain or the ancestral mountain of Green Plume Sword Sect!

Jiang Shangzhen had never imagined that Patriarch Cui would resort to such underhanded tactics to poach him.

No wonder Xie Gou had been so attentive. If he became the Vice-Mountain Master of Green Plume Sword Sect, the position of Chief Steward would be vacant.

Since he could not become the Vice-Mountain Master of Fallen Phoenix Mountain, perhaps he should seek compensation.

Just then, Jiang She returned from escorting the Old Scholar and sat down on a long bench in the corridor, arms crossed, squinting at the man who had supposedly lost his Daoist title.

Jiang Shangzhen sat up and asked brazenly, “Senior, do you still intend to offer me that great opportunity you spoke of earlier?”

Jiang She smiled noncommittally. “Didn’t I say it was first come, first served? Perhaps the ruined Perfected Lord doesn’t understand human speech?”

Jiang Shangzhen refused to admit defeat. “You’re the one who’s ruined.”

Jiang She ignored the taunt, staring at Jiang Shangzhen with a complex expression. “Similar. Very similar.”

Jiang Shangzhen felt his hair stand on end, and the words sent a chill down his spine. What, was he this man’s illegitimate son reborn?

How would that affect his relationship with Pei Qian? Half-siblings?!

Jiang Shangzhen’s Dao heart faltered. Pei Qian could reject him, but he would never accept it!

Jiang She seemed to change the subject, asking, “Have you heard of the deeds of the Two Ancestors of the Military School?”

Jiang Shangzhen shook his head. “Why bother with such distant matters?”

Jiang She scoffed. “What follows ‘distant’? ‘Close at hand’!”

Hearing this, Jiang Shangzhen was both relieved and alarmed, exclaiming in shock, “Me?!”

Jiang She asked, “If you were Jiang She, what would be among the first things you would do upon entering the world? Would you seek out the Two Ancestors of the Military School, to see if you could set aside past grievances and work together?”

“Guess who it was that suggested I listen to the Three Founders of Daoism, first take a territory openly, establish a sect, and then secretly plot for greater things?”

“Why would I, Jiang, take such an interest in you and offer you an opportunity?”

“In that fight, it’s easy to understand why Ning Yao had such killing intent. But what about you? Why were you so determined to eliminate all traces and prevent future troubles?”

Hearing this, Jiang Shangzhen was stunned, feeling that everything was making sense.

Jiang Shangzhen felt threatened. Brother Cui was right, Grandmaster Jiang was the best at making empty promises! He had to be careful.

Jiang She said, “Earlier, Zheng Sheng and I were strolling, discussing this matter, and he revealed some secrets to me. Anyone not of the ‘Wan’ generation would be unfamiliar with this Second Ancestor of the Military School. She has always been ambitious, but unfortunately, she suffered a similar fate to me, being ‘jointly slain’. However, he fared slightly better, with one soul occupying the body, retaining a spark of truth. The other three souls and six spirits were scattered across nine blessed lands in Haoran and Qingming. In Haoran, the Temple of Literature and the ancestral courts of the Military School are responsible for jointly guarding them, recording each lifetime’s ‘resume’. In Qingming, the White Jade Citadel is keeping a close watch.”

Jiang She sneered. “One of them is your close friend, Lu Fang, the sword cultivator of Tongye Continent, perched atop Bird’s-Eye Peak in Lotus Root Flower Blessed Land. Bird’s-Eye Peak! Habits die hard. He still likes to look down from above.”

“Then there is Xing Guan Hao Su, whose blessed land ascension caused the mountains and rivers to shatter.”

“The small Treasure Bottle Continent has two ancestral courts of the Military School, simply because the Wind and Snow Temple needs to monitor the sword talisman from Divine Edict Sect Clear Pool Blessed Land. Another is now working for the Dali Dynasty, with a small title but considerable power, the Assistant Minister of the Ministry of Rites, personally chosen by Cui Chan.”

“A certain ruler of the human world in Supporting Wind Continent, wearing the Great Frost Armor, is said to have gone to the Five Colors Heaven. By the way, this one is of the same ilk as you, fond of fine wine and beautiful women.”

“The former number one martial artist of Central Earth Divine Continent, Zhang Tiaoxia. Afraid of death, he turned to cultivating the Dao, with the Daoist name ‘Long Bo’.”

“In Qingming, the number one figure on Ruzhou Mountain, a man surnamed Zhu, real name Zhu Dazhuang. He is also a libertine. Coincidentally? He has many Daoist names and titles, the latest being ‘Green Duckweed’. Jiang Shangzhen, why do you think the ‘latest’ name is this? Guess?”

Jiang Shangzhen said sullenly, “What’s so hard to guess? It comes from ‘Realizing my heart is devoid of worries, a small fish leaps from the green duckweed’. This eleventh place of Qingming is obviously… awakened, knowing his Dao foundation.”

Jiang She nodded. “Not stupid after all.”

According to Zheng Jizhong, Lu Chen only knew about these seven.

Besides them, there were two who had escaped their gaze due to “Heavenly Changes.”

Jiang She continued, “And there is Fu Xuanjie, the sword cultivator of Azure Divinity Dynasty in Bing Continent. In this life, she is a very young woman.”

Jiang Shangzhen perked up. “Oh?”

Jiang She smiled. “Now there is only one left. Everyone says that Chief Zhou is wealthy because he has a certain blessed land, what was it?”

Jiang Shangzhen’s eyes glazed over. What a tragedy.

Jiang She said, “Correct, the last one is Yan Guo, the ritualist of Sword Qi Great Wall.”

Jiang Shangzhen was stunned. “What? Who?”

Jiang She smiled. “The ‘Lin Shifu’ of Qingming, who just entered the Eleventh Realm of martial arts.”

Jiang Shangzhen looked resentful. Are you so bored, using me to pass the time? You can’t beat Chen Mountain Lord, so you bully an honest man?

Jiang She said slowly, “It is fate that Hao Su fled to Sword Qi Great Wall to become a ceremonial official.”

“Yan Guo found Zhang Tiaoxia, ostensibly for a martial arts exchange at sea. Soon after, Zhang Tiaoxia converted to Daoism. That was also a far-sighted plan.”

“Cui Chan personally appointed the Assistant Minister of the Ministry of Rites. Divine Edict Sect sent Gao Jianfu and He Xiaoliang to Treasure Bottle Continent to collect the Military School’s talismans and charms.”

“Wu Shuangjiang secretly infiltrated Five Colors Heaven and became a teacher in Flying Ascent City. One of his goals was the pitiful bug wearing the Great Frost Armor.”

“Yan Guo, who was once Xie Xinen of Treasure Bottle Continent and is now Lin Jiangxian of Qingming, is a good friend of Zhu, nicknamed ‘Green Duckweed’, in the same continent. Firstly, Treasure Bottle Continent has two incarnations, who belong to the same path. Secondly, it is better for a martial artist to become a god than to allow alchemists to rule the human world for ten thousand years. Therefore, Qing Tong Heavenly Sovereign and Xie Xinen have the name of teacher and disciple. Thirdly, Lin Jiangxian, as the ritualist of Sword Qi Great Wall, is naturally well-versed in the art of celestial calculations. He is probably waiting for the next ‘Heavenly Change’ in Qingming to muddy the waters. This is called killing three birds with one stone.”

“Do you think that Zheng Jizhong is going to see the Graceful One Yao Qing just for fun? The drunkard’s intent lies both in the wine and in the landscape.”

“None of these incarnations are easy to deal with. Who would be willing to live under another’s roof and work for someone else? Who wouldn’t want to usurp the throne? Even if they can’t successfully usurp the throne and become the new Grandmaster of the Military School, devouring all the other ‘selves’, they still want the freedom to be ‘myself’.”

Jiang She laughed, saying that the word “similar” was from the inside story he had learned during a previous tour of the Green Underworld, and was now used on the spot.

Jiang Shangzhen murmured, “So Grandmaster Jiang, you’re not just about brute force.”

Jiang She couldn’t help but feel a little frustrated.

Jiang Shangzhen slapped his fist into his palm. “Good, that’s good, I still have a chance with that Immortal Fu whom I’ve never met.”

Jiang She said, “Lu Tai suffers from his surname, Cui Dongshan suffers from who he reads for, Jiang Shangzhen suffers from his feelings for the past, and Zheng Dafeng suffers from not knowing where to go. It seems that there is nothing wrong with being cynical, and his words and actions are deliberately absurd, but in reality, he is mute and eats coptis, unable to speak of his suffering, and even afraid of being pitied by others, so you have lived a very awkward life.”

“Who says it isn’t so.”

Jiang Shangzhen reclined again. “If you know that you are a chess piece, can you leave the chessboard? If you know that you are a fish in the pond, can you go ashore?”

“Do you know what I think of the human world after watching it from outside for ten thousand years?”

Jiang She answered himself, “It’s a mass grave.”

Jiang Shangzhen frowned and didn’t speak.

Jiang She put his hands behind his head and smiled, “The body is one, the world is still the world. It’s good to be carefree, but as for the human world, whether it’s a great dream, still doing useless things, or that… Never mind, you young people, go ahead and get busy.”

Jiang Shangzhen was surprised, “Grandmaster Jiang is quite talented.”

Jiang She mocked himself, “How else would I draw a pie for you?”

Jiang Shangzhen said in a low voice, “Does Old Master Jiang have any familiar female Daoist friends in the Green Underworld? I’m most afraid of a beauty trap, and I’d like to eat some fine grains.”

Jiang She cursed, “I’m talking to you about the world, and you’re talking to me about the beauty trap?”

Jiang Shangzhen said aggrievedly, “You’re getting angry again.”

After a long silence, Jiang She said, “We plan to go to the Western Buddhist Kingdom.”

Jiang Shangzhen nodded, “That’s pretty good.”

Jiang She smiled, “Did you bet a lot on that game you won’t lose?”

Jiang Shangzhen said, “So-so, I don’t have much money.”

Jiang She said, “After Lin Jiangxian and Xie Shiji, it is estimated that two more will soon enter the Eleventh Realm, one in the desolate land and the other in Haoran.”

Jiang Shangzhen asked in confusion, “Is the martial arts scene like the Three Daoist Founders? After Grandmaster Jiang collapses, can the masters of the realm rush up?”

Jiang She glared, “Get lost.”

Jiang Shangzhen stood up, “Are we still going to talk about who came first and who came later?”

Jiang She said, “When you get into the house, remember to remind Chen Pingan that Wu Shuangjiang is not a martial artist after all, and that only half of the name has been taken away.”

Jiang Shangzhen asked, “It’s rare for you to have good words, why doesn’t Old Grandmaster say it himself?”

Jiang She stretched out his hand and beckoned, “Come, come, come closer, let’s talk a little more, we’re destined.”

Jiang Shangzhen ran into the house and said this, Chen Pingan thought for a moment, and asked them to separate a part of their minds and come to a vast place, suspended in the air, Chen Pingan had reminded them in advance not to fall to the ground.

The empty new mountain top.

Little Mo immediately understood and said, “Fortunately, I didn’t hand over the sword.”

Cui Dongshan said, “In the short term, it doesn’t mean much, but in the long term, it is far-reaching?”

Chen Pingan shook his head and said, “Actually, it means a lot.”

Jiang Shangzhen asked, “Could this mountain be the entire firefly?”

Cui Dongshan rolled his eyes, “What are you thinking? Jiang She has nothing left, he can’t give it even if he wants to.”

Chen Pingan said, “Even if the name and reality are combined and can be given away, who would dare to take it except Wu Shuangjiang?”

Cui Dongshan said, “Sir, you climb the mountain yourself, should we all withdraw?”

Chen Pingan nodded.

Climbing the mountain alone, he walked to the top.

A figure appeared first, he smiled, “We finally meet, Chen Yin Guan.”

Chen Pingan clasped his fists and said, “Greetings, Ritualist Yan Guo.”