The mountain, perpetually veiled in mist, was whispered by the local folk to be the dwelling of immortals.

Chen Ping’an and Ning Yao settled at its foot. Peering upward, they beheld a venerable Daoist seated cross-legged upon a reed mat on the peak, practicing Qi cultivation. His realm was not yet that of a Golden Core, but his Daoist aura was considerable, enough to subtly influence the fortunes of the land and the flow of its mountains and rivers.

Chen Ping’an lowered his gaze, a touch of wistfulness in his eyes. “Truly, who sits idly in the empty mountains but a true immortal?” he murmured.

They chose not to disturb the hermit’s secluded cultivation. Instead, they each wove a secret hand seal, shrinking the earth’s veins to the Yellow Mud Ford, folding mountains and waters like paper beneath their feet.

At last, they were alone. For a time, they could disregard the heavens above and the earth below, the grudges of the mountain sects, and the tides of worldly power.

Thus, Chen Ping’an and Ning Yao walked side-by-side along the immortal ferry landing. He subtly veiled himself with a minor illusion, appearing as a common man in a blue robe with a sheathed blade, his demeanor casual and at ease.

His tall frame was undeniable, but whether he possessed the grace of a jade tree in the wind was a matter, perhaps, of perspective from his own Falling Petal Mountain.

As for Ning Yao, she remained simply Ning Yao. Clad in a jade-green robe, her sword rested upon her back.

Few cultivators in the vastness of the Great Balance Realm knew her true face, and nearly all of those dwelt upon the mountain peaks.

Yellow Mud Ford lay near the northern bank of the Great Dike, while the neighboring Village Makeup Ford stood to the south. Both immortal ferry crossings possessed rather rustic names.

Chen Ping’an chuckled, explaining, “Village Makeup Ford belongs to an immortal sect called Fisher’s Song Mountain. Their Daoist hall is small, mostly women, and they cultivate water magic, so they’re skilled at maintaining their youth. Similar to Azure Plum Hermitage, they excel at the art of illusion, though the wealth they acquire is used to repair the surrounding mountain roots and water veins. They’re well-regarded locally. They wanted to rename Village Makeup Ford ‘Green Raincoat Ford,’ but the other cultivators would have none of it. After all, the ‘Village Girls’ of Fisher’s Song, alongside the ‘Grandmaster’ of the Invincible Divine Fist Gang, and the sword immortal of Positive Sun Mountain, the upright gentleman of Scroll Lake, were all the gold-plated brands of Treasure Bottle Continent in the old days.”

Now, however, they had all been eclipsed by the Midnight Banquet of Cloud Cloak Mountain.

Ning Yao smiled, amused. “Rather cutting. Positive Sun Mountain doesn’t mind the jibe?”

Chen Ping’an feigned seriousness, but his eyes sparkled with mischief. “Back then, there were many immortal abodes and Daoist halls that disliked the ways of Positive Sun Mountain’s sword immortals. When Liu Xianyang and I visited Positive Sun Mountain last time, many cultivators felt a sense of satisfaction, as if we’d vented their grievances. That’s called ‘justice resides in the hearts of the people.’ If good men can use harsh methods to grind down evildoers until they lose all their arrogance, onlookers will always find it gratifying.”

Ning Yao shifted the conversation. “What about that boundary marker? Lu Chen seemed to utter some kind of prophecy or foretelling about it?”

Chen Ping’an nodded. “We shall see. In truth, I hope that inscription is removed even more than Positive Sun Mountain does.”

Ning Yao smiled. “You were never destined for a life of leisure.”

Chen Ping’an clasped his hands behind his head, his voice languid. “Tell me about it.”

During their last visit to the Ten Thousand Mountains, the old blind man spoke of Ning Yao and then reminded Chen Ping’an, “To learn is to increase daily; to cultivate the Dao is to diminish.”

Chen Ping’an was not slow-witted. He understood that the old man was urging him to learn from Ning Yao. After all, since ancient times, cultivating the Dao was about seeking truth and simplicity. On the path to climbing the mountain and proving the Dao, the eighteen martial arts learned at the foot of the mountain could become a burden. What use was there in carrying more gold and silver in one’s basket?

Chen Ping’an recalled something. “Gu Can mentioned in passing—he heard it from Chai Bo Fu—that Fisher’s Song Mountain, focused on water magic, apparently has some origins connected to Liu Chi Cheng’s *True Scripture of Intercepting the River*. But since Liu Zhi Mao won’t say, and Liu Chi Cheng himself has a poor memory, outsiders can’t verify it.”

Chai Bo Fu was a remarkable character, adaptable, both ruthless and cowardly, rising and falling through realms with the regularity of everyday meals.

Chen Ping’an wondered if Zheng Ju Zhong could gain insight from this and pioneer a new path for the Golden Core and Nascent Soul realms.

Chen Ping’an spoke in his heart, “This Yellow Mud Ford is actually controlled by the Great Li military, though the court has found a puppet to act as the public face. There are many similar places, but they can’t be acknowledged openly.”

Ning Yao was surprised. “Isn’t the Great Li Dynasty incredibly wealthy, then?”

Chen Ping’an was momentarily stunned. Even he only had a vague idea of just how wealthy the Great Li Dynasty was. Ning Yao talking about “money” was almost like the time she cooked medicine in the blacksmith’s shop.

Ning Yao smiled. “Just repeating what you would say.”

Chen Ping’an chuckled, then fell silent for a moment. “Senior Brother Cui has always wanted to swallow the ‘mountain’ character of Treasure Bottle Continent.”

Ning Yao looked puzzled. Chen Ping’an raised a finger and traced the character for “immortal” in the air. Ning Yao understood. If the “mountain” was swallowed, the immortals cultivating upon them would become simply men.

Ning Yao asked, “To continue your senior brother’s idea, and not just in the sense of those below governing those above?”

Chen Ping’an shook his head, resigned. “That’s probably harder than reaching the Fourteenth Realm.”

It was difficult enough for one who reads to truly understand history. To “write” history with one’s own hand was an endeavor of staggering difficulty.

History was like a long, flowing river. How many mountains in its upper reaches could those downstream remember?

Ning Yao noticed the shift in Chen Ping’an’s expression and asked curiously, “What amuses you?”

Chen Ping’an stifled a laugh. “I prepared one of each of the three grades of ‘trouble-free’ plaques from the Great Li Ministry of Punishments.”

Ning Yao asked, “And then?”

Chen Ping’an glanced around, his eyes narrowed. “For example, if we encounter some blind fool along the road, I’ll pull out the Third-Grade Trouble-Free Plaque. If that doesn’t scare him off, I’ll switch to the Second-Grade. And when his reinforcements arrive, brimming with righteous indignation, I’ll produce the First-Grade Trouble-Free Plaque… Just thinking about it is amusing.”

However, Yellow Mud Ford lay on the Great Li Dynasty’s frontier, secretly controlled by its border troops. This meant that there was certainly a Great Li spy behind the scenes who possessed such a plaque. Therefore, the scenario Chen Ping’an envisioned was nearly impossible here. Further south, after crossing the Great Dike, it might be more likely.

Ning Yao’s thoughts and approaches were always different from others’. She asked, “Aren’t you afraid they’ll mistake you for an official in the Great Li Ministry of Punishments, specializing in issuing these plaques?”

Chen Ping’an was slightly deflated. Perhaps he found it amusing himself; he held back for a moment, then burst into a bright, unrestrained laugh.

Ning Yao rarely saw Chen Ping’an like this. Ever since she had known him, she had seldom witnessed such an expression, such laughter.

It seemed that no amount of disappointment in his life could drive him to despair. She did not know if he was truly telling others, or if he was simply reminding himself, that many stories, both large and small, ended with those two words: “still good.” And the explanation for “still good” was, perhaps, “hope”.

And so, Ning Yao smiled too.

Chen Ping’an spoke of some things not written in his travel journals. During his second long journey, on his way to find her, he had overheard an old man at a tavern saying that he had never seen a bad man turn good in his life.

The tipsy youth, taken aback and shocked, refused to believe it.

The old man was not angry. He said, “Then let’s bet on a hotpot dinner. The loser treats.”

Ning Yao asked, “Was a winner decided?”

Chen Ping’an said, “It’s hard to say. Maybe Old Man Song just wanted to eat hotpot, and it didn’t matter who paid.”

There once was a time when he watched kites from afar, listening to the sound of reading from a distance. There once was a time when a tall boy held a torch as he went into the mountains, loudly calling out the name of the straw-sandaled boy.

East, west, north, south, spring, summer, autumn, winter, the joy and sorrow of birth, aging, sickness, and death, the poverty and prosperity of men, ghosts, gods, and immortals… Was there truly such a thing as a natural, righteous principle in this world?

Just then, a ferry bound for Village Makeup Ford arrived at the ferry landing. The journey would take only half an hour. Chen Ping’an bought two bamboo tokens for passage, similar to short-distance permits in the mortal world. Perhaps seeing that he did not appear wealthy, the boatman added an extra word of caution: the wooden token indicated the drop-off point, and if passengers were discovered still onboard after Village Makeup Ford, they would be heavily fined.

They boarded the boat, leaning against the railing, with seas of clouds and green mountains beneath their feet, gazing together towards the “Autumn Wind Shrine,” suspended in the air above central Treasure Bottle Continent.

Ning Yao, with her higher realm, could see the incense-filled Autumn Wind Shrine clearly. It was like a great, endlessly cycling formation, which spontaneously condensed the incense into a pinkish, misty fortune, then sent out countless ethereal red threads, scattering them into the densely populated areas below. But the shrine’s majestic aura was unlike those of the heretical Red Dust Formations and Rouge Fields.

The territory of the Autumn Wind Shrine was located upon a floating lake. On the island in the middle of the lake stood an ancient complex resembling a shrine. The three-character plaque read “Autumn Wind,” but the last character was missing its “heart” radical, leaving only “Autumn Wind 祠”. In recent years, countless visitors from the mountain sects had flocked there, seeking to explore and, if possible, claim the territory as their own private Daoist hall.

Alas, it remained an unclaimed land, beyond force.

A few years ago, Xie Songhua had visited Autumn Wind Shrine with Chen Li, Gao Youqing, Yu Juanfu, and Lin Junbi after attending the Fallen Phoenix Mountain’s sect inauguration ceremony. Later, Chen Qingliu and Xin Ji’an also traveled to Autumn Wind Shrine.

Ning Yao asked curiously, “Such a place, and still no owner?”

Chen Ping’an shook his head and smiled. “Enter my Autumn Wind Shrine, enter the gate of my longing. Only a pair of destined lovers have a chance to claim it. But it seems there’s a price to pay: they must fill the vacant godhood, becoming a local deity and taking charge of a portion of human relationships.”

This place was secretly created by Wu Shuangjiang and Liu Qi, in collaboration with Cai Dao Huang of the Happiness Shop in the Leech Pearl Grotto-Heaven, who was also Hu Feng’s grandfather. It was a marriage agency and matchmaker’s office.

It appeared around the same time as the Night Navigation Ship, the City-Above-the-Sea Viewing Pavilion of Golden Armor Continent, and the secret realm on Tung Leaf Continent, said to contain a great opportunity for elixir-fueled ascension. Autumn Wind Shrine was an extremely special landscape realm. It had no immortal magic restrictions, and cultivators could enter and exit freely. Unlike ordinary ruins, it had no mechanisms or formations, no layers of obstacles to block visitors.

Chen Ping’an asked, “Want to go take a look?”

Ning Yao said, “I’ve already seen it.”

Within Autumn Wind Shrine, strange phenomena abounded: community drums and divine crows; long-sleeved dancers with slender waists in the Hall of Eternal Life; peach blossom fans scattered on the ground, unattainable to cultivators; a ditch filled with red leaves inscribed with poems; a white jade bridge laden with lovers’ locks… Mountain Daoist couples, worldly lovers, lovesick men and women were all willing to burn incense there, seeking a happy marriage.

Nowadays, there were several immortal ferry boats dedicated to traveling to Autumn Wind Shrine, a veritable way to make a fortune.

Chen Ping’an said, “Seeing it from a distance isn’t the same as seeing it up close.”

Ning Yao shook her head. “Not much point.”

Liu Tui’s Flowing Glow Boat, upon reaching the Great Dike, split into several routes. Chen Ping’an and Ning Yao disembarked first, while Nie Cuie and Hua Qinggong and their four companions headed for Autumn Wind Shrine, said to have very efficacious marriage lotteries, to join in the fun before going directly to Fallen Phoenix Mountain. As for the celebration of Chen Sword Immortal’s appointment as Great Li Imperial Preceptor, after deliberation, they decided not to go to the Great Li capital. Nie Cuie, in particular, was under orders from her master to quickly pay respects to Grandmaster Jing Qing.

She truly could not imagine what kind of cultivator, what level of perfect merit, would earn such respect from her master.

Liu Tui and Qi Tingji also disembarked soon after. They were going to visit the maritime ruins at the northernmost end of Treasure Bottle Continent, where Embroidery Tiger once united the maps of the two continents.

Liu Tui even casually gifted the Flowing Glow Boat to Nian Xin. After disembarking, he and Qi Tingji flew off on the wind. Nian Xin did not stand on ceremony. She steered the Flowing Glow Boat, carrying the group of Dragon Elephant Sword Sect sword immortals, to the ferry landing outside the Great Li capital, where she moored the boat and headed for the National Preceptor’s residence, carrying a First-Grade Trouble-Free Plaque.

As they flew on the wind, Qi Tingji laughed, “You’re certainly generous.”

He had never told Liu Tui about Nian Xin’s identity.

Liu Tui had his reasons. “She’s a woman, and not a sword cultivator, and she came out of Flying Ascension City. Even standing next to Ning Yao, she isn’t overshadowed. She’s not weak.”

Qi Tingji praised, “You truly are a born merchant.”

Liu Tui laughed self-deprecatingly. “What good is it?”

Back in the capital, after all her identity verifications were in order, Nian Xin entered the residence, which was somewhat different from what she had imagined. Her first impression was that it would be a good place to stay up late on summer nights.

Upon entering the courtyard, the paulownia trees provided cool shade. In the second courtyard, she heard the sound of pine cones falling on the steps. The third courtyard was filled with the scent of peach blossoms. Her eyes, ears, and nose were all blessed.

Besides Rong Yu, who came to greet her, Nian Xin also saw Lin Shouyi. Throughout history, scholars traveling to the capital for the imperial examinations stayed in inns if they had money, and temples if they did not. It was rare to see someone like Lin Shouyi, who was borrowing a room in the National Preceptor’s residence to study for the exams.

Nian Xin also saw Yu Shiwu and the other “confidants” of the hidden officials, all working here, handling official duties in different government offices. Xiao Xing was rather taciturn. Gongsun Lingling also worked as a cook. Having been expelled from the Cherry Green Robe lineage, she still used the pseudonym Yu Qing. Additionally, the youthful Dou Kou and Xian Zao gave Nian Xin a subtle, unsettling feeling, like “false humans,” yet full of vitality.

The ferry boat docked at Village Makeup Ford. Chen Ping’an quickly found Xiao Mo and Zhao Zhuo and his apprentice. They were at an old mountain shrine in the mountains near the ferry landing. The temple keeper was a woman, not a cultivator. She was of advanced age, over sixty, yet she still looked no older than forty.

Xie Gou had disembarked from the Night Navigation Ship ahead of him, heading to Scroll Lake to deliver the fifty female ghosts to Zeng Ye and Ma Duyi’s Five Island Sect. Xiao Mo had taken a trip to the Curtain of Heaven. Chen Ping’an had entrusted her with a task: find Zhao Zhuo. If he hadn’t gotten close to Fallen Phoenix Mountain, bring him to Village Makeup Ford for a meeting. Daoist Zhao Zhuo of Azure Tiger Palace was one of the few guest elders with a seat in the Fallen Phoenix Mountain Ancestral Hall. Zhao Zhuo’s northward journey was for his disciple, Gan Xing. Upon hearing that Mountain Lord Chen had a solution to his hidden troubles, Zhao Zhuo had immediately set off for Treasure Bottle Continent. He wasn’t traveling too hastily; he was more like leading his disciple on a journey to broaden his horizons. The last time Chen Ping’an passed by Pure Realm Mountain on Tung Leaf Continent, he had already drawn a talisman in Gan Xing’s palm, writing the character “edict” to suppress the unknown “death aura.” But that was only a temporary measure. After Chen Ping’an returned to his private Daoist hall on Floating Clouds Peak, he began to pay serious attention to this matter.

Xiao Mo found Zhao Zhuo and his apprentice on a transcontinental ferry and brought them to Village Makeup Ford to await Chen Ping’an and Ning Yao.

Although Xie Gou had not said so explicitly, Chen Ping’an and Xiao Mo both knew that she had made a clear path towards the Dao.

Sword cultivator Bai Jing made a great vow to spread thirty-six Dao veins in the mortal world, to continue the traditions of “ancient times,” to take from the surplus and give to the deficient, and to practice the Dao of Heaven.

In fact, were Bai Jing’s two questions to the shrine of That Zhi in the Ten Thousand Mountains timely? Were they useful?

The old blind man’s words were always unpleasant. He retorted with two questions: Who decided what was timely? Would it be useful? The answer would be clear once the results were in.

Besides Xiao Mo, Zhao Zhuo, and Gan Xing, there were also two unfamiliar faces. One was a lame old Daoist, carrying a walking stick made of ten-thousand-year vine and a wooden plaque depicting a Daoist deity with a snow-white beard parted into three strands. Accompanying him was a short, thin Daoist boy with wrapped leggings, carrying a *huqin*. The master and apprentice traveled the world together. The master sang Daoist ballads, and the apprentice played the *huqin*. The master always said that to be a good Daoist, one had to have a good voice, so one had a chance to save up money to build a temple.

The two Daoist boys were about the same age and struck up a conversation. He told Gan Xing, his new friend, that his parents wanted him to be free from illness and disaster and live a long life. So they had found a statue of a deity in a nearby Daoist hall, kowtowed, and registered his name. Every year, they would take him there to burn incense.

The old Daoist was tall and thin, his brow creased with fine lines when he raised his eyebrows. His hands were bony, with only skin stretched over the tendons.

He was somewhat hunched, perhaps from carrying the deity on his back for so long.

Chen Ping’an looked at the slightly reserved Daoist boy carrying the *huqin* and felt a sense of familiarity.

After chatting, he learned that the old Daoist had come to this area to catch up with old friends.

Qi Tingji and Chen Qi had mentioned a few names and sects, including Gao Mian of the Invincible Divine Fist Gang, for a total of five sword cultivators who had left the Sword Qi Great Wall and were confirmed to be alive. Some had been in seclusion for many years, living in seclusion. Others traveled the world, wandering the four seas. But they all had one thing in common: they had chosen to conceal, or rather, abandon their identities as sword cultivators. According to Qi Tingji’s guess, it was a request from the Eldest Sword Immortal.

For the sake of friendship and chivalry, Gao Mian had fallen from the Jade Pure Realm back to the Nascent Soul Realm twice. During the Great Dike battle, he had even fallen directly to the Golden Core Realm, barely managing to keep his Golden Core from completely collapsing. Since he was destined to never advance again and also wanted to give the younger generation some room, Gao Mian had resigned as gang leader, allowing those young bastards to change the gang’s name.

A mountain sect had finally acquired a name befitting its immortal status.

Gao Mian didn’t object to this, but felt it was a pity; they were no longer distinctive.

He reminisced about Wei Jin of Wind Snow Temple, who, as a mountain sword immortal, preferred to ride a donkey and wander the world while drunk.

Among the female cultivators of Treasure Bottle Continent, one was particularly famous: Helian Baozhu of the Invincible Divine Fist Gang, for whom Zheng Dafeng had a special fondness. In the past, Treasure Bottle Continent’s illusion arts had been more outstanding than those of Tung Leaf Continent or even Northern Culmination Continent. Chen Lingjun and a few others from Fallen Phoenix Mountain were particularly fond of it. Chen Ping’an’s first encounter with illusionary arts was due to Chen Lingjun.

However, according to Great Li intelligence, Helian Baozhu was not only Gao Mian’s direct disciple but also had a hidden identity. She was actually from Bamboo Basket Hall, like Gongsun Lingling, a member of the Cherry Green Robe lineage.

Chen Ping’an had a hunch that the old Daoist was one of the five “private swords.” Sure enough, the old Daoist also guessed Chen Ping’an’s identity. He looked at him, then at Ning Yao, stroked his beard, and smiled. “Perfect. Seeing Gao Mian is secondary.”

Chen Ping’an finally remembered why he felt familiar when he saw the Daoist boy; it was related to Liang Shuang, the non-clan Grand Celestial Master of Dragon Tiger Mountain.

The old Daoist was indeed unrestrained. He readily admitted his shortcomings, saying, “To be honest, Gao Mian and I are not worthy of speaking with you face to face. I will not be ungracious now that I have benefited. Farewell.”

Chen Ping’an hesitated, then said in his heart, “Daoist, this disciple of yours may have a karmic connection to Liang Shuang, the Daoist of Dragon Tiger Mountain.”

The old Daoist paused, seemingly having heard the name “Liang Shuang,” and smiled. “If there truly is a connection, they will meet eventually.”

The old Daoist led his disciple down the mountain, and the Daoist boy bid farewell to Gan Xing with reluctance.

Inside the old mountain shrine, Chen Ping’an began to resolve Gan Xing’s hidden troubles. The method was simple: have Xiao Mo, who had already reached the Fourteenth Realm, deliver the sword, forcing the death aura within Gan Xing’s body into one of his Qi reservoirs, and then, with lightning speed, Chen Ping’an would… “eat it”! Chen Ping’an was now a primordial chaos of Heaven and Earth, most suitable for refining such things. The human body was like a temple. When the god was absent, the ghosts came. In an instant, the death aura that had been entangling with Gan Xing’s soul was transferred by Chen Ping’an to his own world. Gan Xing felt nothing, but when Chen Sword Immortal said he was fine, he kowtowed with his master in thanks.

Chen Ping’an accepted the courtesy and reminded him, “Gan Xing, this abandoned mountain shrine has a Daoist connection with you. In the future, when you’ve saved up some money, remember to repair it.”

It was easy to find Gao Mian, who lived in seclusion in the nearby countryside.

Gao Mian was short and unremarkable. The old man looked more like a bandit who had turned to crime, grown old, and could no longer rob, so he had found a place to retire. He liked to spend his days dusting his blue robe with a feather duster, making a cracking sound.

Today, upon seeing Chen Ping’an and Ning Yao, Gao Mian was squatting in the courtyard, cupping a handful of peanuts, watching the fluffy chicks waddling around on the ground. He stood up, a complex expression on his face. After a moment of deliberation, he smiled and said, “There’s an old friend of mine in Floating Clouds Continent. We used to correspond every ten years or so, but then there was that battle. He didn’t leave.”

“I once tried to persuade Xun Yuan not to give up his life to save his fortune, telling him that as long as there was the green mountains, there’d be wood to burn. Old Man Xun wouldn’t listen. There was nothing I could do.”

“You don’t ask why I left the Sword Qi Great Wall and hid here in Treasure Bottle Continent?”

“You don’t ask why, knowing your identity, I didn’t acknowledge you, a hidden official of the Sword Qi Great Wall, and pay my respects? Or try to become a relative?”

“I came to Treasure Bottle Continent as half a compatriot, and you went to the Sword Qi Great Wall as half a compatriot. Heh, we’re a whole compatriot now.”

Perhaps some lives were like drinking quick wine.

Hearing this, Chen Ping’an finally laughed and said, “I just came to bask in the sun with a retired senior of the martial world, chat idly, and tell him that the juniors still in the martial world are all good people, promising, and will get better and better, so he shouldn’t worry.”

“Young man, can you drink wine?”

“I’m someone who made a great name selling wine at the Sword Qi Great Wall. Senior’s question is excessive. Are you still drunk?”

————

More and more sword immortals appeared in the Great Li capital.

On the day of the Grain in Ear solar term, the sky was still dimly lit. Chen Ping’an walked out of the building where men and women were gossiping, walking alone in the quiet alley.

The most virtuous city of a nation was already empty, as everyone waited patiently for him to appear, all wanting to witness the face of the new Imperial Preceptor of the Great Li Dynasty.

The crowd held their breath for a moment as he emerged from the alley, then erupted into a thunderous roar that echoed continuously, as if the entire capital were shaking, as if the entire Treasure Bottle Continent had awakened.

On both sides of the road, Great Li warriors stood in neat rows, their iron armor clanking.

A carriage was parked outside the alley.

Nearby, a young girl rubbed her eyes. Her two brothers were flushed with excitement, but she was somewhat confused. “Ah? It really looks like him!”

The carriage stopped slowly before turning onto the main imperial avenue.

Two groups of sword immortals waited here, walking together towards the imperial palace.

Leading the way was Chen Ping’an.

Ning Yao, Fourteenth Realm. Xiao Mo, Fourteenth Realm. Xie Gou, Ascension Realm Completion. Pei Qian. Mi Yu, Immortal Realm. Xing Yun, Liu Shui. Chai Wu. Jiang Shangzhen.

Qi Tingji, Ascension Realm. Lu Zhi, Ascension Realm. Shao Yunyan. Gao Shuang, Immortal Realm. Guo Du, with his Daoist partner Ling Xun. Jin Zao, Zhu Su. Huang Ling, Immortal Realm, wielding the Three Caves Sword. Xuan Yang. Mei Kan, with his disciple Mei Dandang, Daoist name Zhenze, Immortal Realm.

It was like a brand new Sword Qi Great Wall.

Today, the sword Qi of the human world was near.