## The Parting of Ways

As Pei Qian prepared to journey to the frigid expanse of Aihai Continent, a missive arrived from Liu Jubao himself, dispatched the previous night to Jise Peak. The letter invited Master Chen to discuss a matter of grave import, too sensitive to be detailed in writing. Should Master Chen be unavailable, his most esteemed disciple would suffice, for was not Master Pei himself a guest of the Liu clan of Aihai? Chen Ping’an, however, deemed this a welcome distraction for Pei Qian, a chance to clear his head and perhaps glimpse the unique customs of the Hongwu Dynasty along the way.

With the harvest nearing its end, Zhao Shuxia and Ning Ji would soon return to their studies at the village school. Deng Jianping, seized by a sudden impulse, announced his intention to visit his sister and brother-in-law at their North Gulu Continent hermitage. Chen Ping’an instructed him to bring his two foremost disciples back to Fallen Mountain. Deng Jianping inquired as to the propriety of such a visit, but Chen Ping’an merely chuckled. “What could be more fitting? Upon meeting me, they shall address me as their grand-master!”

The Elder Deaf One was bound for Flower Shadow Peak, to resume his teachings, while Zheng Dafeng prepared to instruct in the martial arts at Nightingale Peak. Wen Zixie, now possessing the “Two Gold” realm, was tasked with safeguarding Xiao Mili and the others on their journey to Old Dragon City.

Nie Cui’e and the other sword cultivators, some guests of the Dragon Elephant Sword Sect, others honored members of the Azure Lily Sword Sect, also prepared to depart for their respective homelands, each content and feeling their journey had not been in vain.

Immortal Wei, accompanied by his devoted disciple Lin Feijing, journeyed towards Fragrant Fire Mountain, continuing their work of clearing paths, spanning waterways, and erecting bridges. As the master and disciple walked the ascending trail, surrounded by meticulously crafted pavilions of their own making, Lin Feijing dared to ask about the strange omens that had plagued the night before, inquiring whether his master knew their cause. Immortal Wei paused, lost in thought. He had slept soundly the previous night, even forgetting his evening meal. He knew nothing of any omens, his rest so deep that Big Wind swore he snored loud enough to bring down the very roof! Unable to admit his ignorance, the Immortal puffed out his chest and launched into a lofty sermon, leaving Lin Feijing awestruck and lamenting the vast gulf that separated him from his master’s wisdom.

Indeed, a mountain’s grandeur is not measured by its height, but by the sincerity of the heart. To cultivate virtue and walk the path, to roam freely within the vast expanse of Heaven and Earth, to deem one’s own humble sanctuary lacking nothing – this was the true pursuit.

“Feijing, what is your assessment of the old cook’s rattan chair? Imagine, on a sweltering summer day, reclining beneath its shade, fanning oneself with a palm leaf, engrossed in a sacred text. A grand journey, accomplished without leaving one’s seat! I confess, I envy him greatly.”

“Master, I shall begin collecting ancient rattan at once!”

“Feijing, speak truthfully. Are you impatient, that I have yet to beseech Master Chen to formally accept you as a disciple of Fallen Mountain?”

“Master, such a thought never enters my mind.”

“Alas, a lack of ambition!”

As for our own Master Chen, he relinquished his role as a carefree overseer, transforming instead into a venerable patriarch bidding farewell to his family, each member destined for a brighter future in distant lands.

Xiao Mili and her companions did not immediately take to the winds towards Ox Horn Ferry. Instead, they embarked on a leisurely stroll along the winding road from the mountain, intending to procure necessities for their journey, as well as bid adieu to the shopkeepers of the Stash of Trinkets and the Herb Stall.

Once they were out of sight beyond the mountain gates, Chen Ping’an ascended the steps, lingering a moment to observe their retreating figures. The youth in azure and the girl in ebony skipped and gamboled playfully, while a weary-looking man with a heavy pack trudged alongside them, his breath steady, his stride unyielding.

According to Ning Yao’s assessment, Zhu Su would break through his cultivation barrier by midday, ascending to the realm of Immortality.

She was to arrive at the Dragon Spring Sword Sect’s Youyi Peak that morning, to serve as a bridesmaid for She Yue.

The private hermitage on Fuling Mount, Chen Ping’an granted to Xie Gou for the time being, as the latter was charged with safeguarding Ding Daoshi’s breakthrough.

Chen Ping’an called out to the departing Xiao Mo, still nursing his wounds at the Snail Shell Hermitage, and to Xie Gou, ever eager to flaunt his authority amongst the jade-skinned wraiths. Together they walked towards the bamboo tower, where Chen Ping’an retrieved a newly crafted walking stick made of vibrant green bamboo, inscribed with two seals: “Fallen Mountain” and “Second Seat.”

A gift for Xie Gou.

Chen Ping’an explained, “This was crafted before, hence the inscription ‘Second Seat’. Now that you are the Chief, you are welcome to add your own inscription.”

The girl in the sable hat glanced at the bamboo and the inscription, easily discerning its origin – a recent creation of the Master, made shortly after his return to Fallen Mountain from the Ascension City of the Five Colors World. Xie Gou grinned, his joy uncontainable. The white-haired youth, nearly expelled from the disciple roster that very morning, groaned and clicked his tongue, his envy palpable. “It’s true, comparisons kill. Master Xie is truly a canine, licking boots to rise in the ranks!”

Xie Gou accepted the walking stick with eager haste, protesting with mock modesty, “Such a gift! I have done nothing to deserve it!”

He had, after all, nearly caused a catastrophe by smuggling a band of female ghosts into Treasure Bottle Continent without prior authorization.

Chen Ping’an waved away his protests. “Did I not promise you that if you could manage to handle matters, I would gift you with a walking stick?”

Xie Gou chuckled. “I interfered, but hardly managed things well. I am unworthy, yet to refuse would be impolite. Ha ha!”

Within Fallen Mountain, there was no particular significance attached to wielding a walking stick, nor was it a symbol of status. Anyone who desired one could simply craft their own. But the difference between a stick of one’s own making and a gift, lovingly crafted by the Master himself, was immeasurable.

Chen Ping’an inquired, “How fares Ding Daoshi?”

Xie Gou replied, “Like a turtle crawling, progress is slow.”

Chen Ping’an nodded. “Good, steady and sure is best.”

Xiao Mo asked, “Master, what of the matter of assisting Lu Zu?”

Chen Ping’an rubbed his brow wearily. “Still awaiting word.”

Wei Bo approached the bamboo tower, reminding Chen Ping’an, “The Imperial Court in the capital has already begun its morning session. Your absence as the newly appointed Imperial Preceptor has roused whispers amongst the officials. Each is guessing wildly, spurred on by the upheaval that shook the capital’s bureaucracy last night, leaving one Great Minister and two Lesser Ministers missing. The Emperor himself awaits your presence before making any pronouncements. Since you are already late, perhaps you should attend only the small Imperial Council held in the Imperial Study? I can inform His Majesty.”

The night before, the Great Li capital had been a scene of utter chaos, a flurry of frantic activity. As the North Peak God Lord, responsible for the mountains and rivers of the capital region, Wei Bo had been obligated to oversee the mountain and water deities as they monitored the countless messages carried by flying swords, witnessing the ebb and flow of bureaucratic intrigue and the vicissitudes of human affairs.

There was nothing new under the sun, he thought. To destroy without building anew was merely a rebellion recorded in history. To destroy and build anew was to establish a kingdom. So it was with the rise and fall of dynasties, the ascendancy and decline of aristocratic houses, the grand transformations of immortal domains.

Chen Ping’an withdrew his gaze from the distant horizon, declaring, “I shall go to the capital now. The morning court must be attended.”

After a moment, he turned to Wei Bo, puzzled by the lack of action. “Is there something that troubles you, something you hesitate to share? Speak your mind. What matter, what person, could cause Wei Bo such unease?”

Wei Bo, his face impassive, replied, “I cannot carry you.”

Chen Ping’an was taken aback. “What?”

Wei Bo explained, “You are now an eleventh realm martial artist, your spirit soul of immense strength and density. To lift you would be like trying to move an iron ox used to suppress rivers. To accomplish it with mere human strength would be a formidable task. I cannot casually expend the mountain and water qi of the North Peak, and besides, performing such a feat twice a day would be exhausting.”

Chen Ping’an patted Wei Bo’s shoulder. “The Night Wanderer God Lord’s fame has outstripped his strength for now.”

Wei Bo suggested, “Should we not establish a Cloud Nest Formation between Spirit Gathering Peak and the Imperial Preceptor’s Residence?”

Chen Ping’an smiled and conjured in mid-air an even more crude imitation of the Three Mountains Talisman. While Xie Gou’s version, patterned after the Three Mountains Talisman of Mister Three Mountains and Nine Marquis, was an “official fake,” this one was purely a “common imitation,” barely functional. To traverse even half the Treasure Bottle Continent would be a pipe dream.

Earlier, while at Great Shou’s Jade Firmament Palace, Chen Qingliu had relayed a message from Mister Three Mountains and Nine Marquis: Chen Ping’an need no longer offer incense when using the Three Mountains Talisman.

Chen Ping’an chose three locations for his talismans: Yellow Lake Mountain nearby, an obscure, nameless mountain, and the Green Mystery Cave near the Ape Treading Post of the Great Li capital.

Upon reaching Yellow Lake Mountain, he found Liu Cha already seated on a stool, clad in a straw hat, hempen clothes, and sandals, a fishing rod in hand, a wine flask at his feet – an idyllic picture of a recluse.

Chen Ping’an squatted beside him. Having left behind his *sleeve universe* cultivation technique, he could no longer carry his wine flask and smoking pipe to court – truly, it was difficult to go from extravagance to simplicity.

Liu Cha inquired with curiosity, “Can you continue to cultivate?”

Chen Ping’an smiled. “Of course.”

Liu Cha pressed, “Are all your Natal Swords destroyed in that Great Dao Exchange of Heaven and Earth?”

Chen Ping’an shook his head. “They are all safe, but temporarily unusable.”

Liu Cha frowned, falling silent. Who did Chen Ping’an take him for? He had made a gentleman’s agreement with the Literary Temple, one that required no oath, so he would never stoop to treachery and stab Chen Ping’an in the back.

However, since Chen Ping’an was unwilling to be completely candid, Liu Cha would not pry further. Any other cultivator would be wary and keep a secret weapon hidden away, for that was only human nature. But who was Chen Ping’an? The final Hidden Official of the Sword Qi Great Wall, a man accustomed to traveling in foreign lands. And who was Liu Cha? Though a demon of the Wildlands, he had also wielded his sword and traversed the world. If they were both wanderers, why should they regard each other with such suspicion?

Chen Ping’an smiled and explained, “They are temporarily locked within several vortices of time, like a very advanced sword-locking technique – a last-minute act of self-preservation. In the event that I lose to Zhou Mi and become the greatest sinner in all of humanity, I will have a chance to make amends, even if it takes a thousand or ten thousand years. Only in such a manner, as a ghostly figure, could I truly be a pure sword cultivator. Apart from Chen Qingliu, not even a fourteenth realm cultivator like yourself could see through this.”

Liu Cha nodded, realizing he had misunderstood.

Chen Ping’an said, “Though I am nominally your personal bodyguard, you need not follow me like a shadow.”

Liu Cha laughed. “In his eleventh realm, who can kill you now?”

Chen Ping’an said, “Your battles in the Wildlands are brutal and cruel, but they lack cunning.”

Liu Cha nodded in agreement. “They cannot compare to the patience and intelligence of you humans, who excel at plotting against your enemies without them knowing.”

The Literary Temple had dispatched Liu Cha from the Hall of Meritorious Deeds, ostensibly to serve as Chen Ping’an’s bodyguard, but in reality, it was a gesture of goodwill, a face-saving measure for both parties.

Chen Ping’an had taken the lead in resolving a problem that had persisted for ten thousand years, and the Literary Temple of the Central Earth was bound to express its gratitude.

A “gentleman” title would have been insulting. But to truly grant Liu Cha the position of Deputy Head of the Literary Temple or Grand Mentor of a newly established academy would have been rejected by Chen Ping’an.

What virtuous men like Gu Kuang and Qin Zhengxi hoped for was for Chen Ping’an to serve as the “Supervisor General” of the Wildlands battlefield, resembling both the Hidden Official and the Execution Official of the Sword Qi Great Wall. That would be a fitting compromise.

To keep Liu Cha locked away was something of a waste. However, the Literary Temple could not condone allowing Liu Cha, a once fourteenth realm pure sword cultivator, to roam freely throughout the Vast World. Should Liu Cha follow in the footsteps of Xiao Huan, nobody could bear the consequences. The idea that Liu Cha could redeem himself by contributing to the Vast World on the Wildlands battlefield was out of the question. Even High Sage would not commit such a transgression, and there was no one who could shoulder that responsibility.

Back then, Zhou Mi could be compelled by the moral righteousness that, being a cultivator of the Wildlands, he ought to deliver one final sword for the sake of the Wildlands. What reason could be used to persuade Liu Cha? That he looked like a man?

Liu Cha stated firmly, “Chen Ping’an, let it be known that I will only serve as your bodyguard in the Vast World. I will not venture into the Wildlands.”

Chen Ping’an, as if angered, retorted loudly, “Enough useless words! You insult me and yourself!”

Liu Cha nodded. He found those words pleasing to the ear.

Chen Ping’an then departed for the next mountain.

Liu Cha refocused his attention on fishing, but the burly man suddenly awoke, realizing with chagrin that the cursed fool had deliberately raised his voice, scaring away the blue fish that had been about to bite his bait.

The mountain that Chen Ping’an chose as his next destination was a fine place for concealing wind and gathering water. It was the location of an obscure sect, founded by a mere Cave Abode cultivator. Its genealogy stretched back seven or eight generations, yet it lacked even an ancestral hall. Their founder, having fled here during a time of chaos and war, had created a crude illusion. The members of the sect devoted themselves to cultivation in solitude, avoiding contact with the outside world. Occasionally, they would venture out to sell mountain produce, using the proceeds to purchase necessities in the town.

Several second-generation disciples were discussing a matter with their master: they intended to establish a security escort agency in the Great Li capital. Every family had its troubles, and while practicing cultivation here was peaceful, their lives were too impoverished, and the lack of money hindered their cultivation. Just the preparation of medicinal meals required a considerable amount of gold and silver. Their master did not object to their descent into the world for experience, but worried they were too naive to navigate the intricacies of society. To gain a foothold in the Great Li capital, a place teeming with hidden dragons and crouching tigers, would be difficult. Furthermore, the old man feared that they would be seduced by the allure of wine, women, and song, and that their hearts would be lost, causing them to find the path of cultivation too austere. Nevertheless, after some deliberation, the old man began to impart to them lessons on human interaction and how to deal with the local government, preparing letters of introduction to long-lost friends in the mountains, hoping they could provide some assistance to the security escort agency.

The old man smiled, surprised and delighted. “Old Brother Cao Mo, are you back to search for ore and gather herbs?”

Upon seeing the familiar figure in green robes, the faces of the old man’s second-generation disciples changed. A beautiful young woman intentionally turned her head to admire the green mountains to the side.

The other men and boys were on high alert. They only had one junior sister, and this Cao Mo had been lurking around their sect several times recently. His intentions were all too clear. However, the man was merely a martial artist skilled in fist and foot, and he would eventually grow old in ten years. They worried only that he would use honeyed words to deceive her; the old saying went that a good woman feared being pursued relentlessly by a scoundrel.

Chen Ping’an clasped his hands in greeting and smiled. “Brother Hong, I am passing by your treasured land and have come to disturb your peaceful cultivation once more.”

This founder, who had attained the Cave Abode realm, was named Hong Zhengyun. He had no Daoist title, his talent mediocre. Although he was a rogue cultivator of the mountains and rivers, he was kind-hearted. His disciples were mostly orphans that the old man had gathered during the past war. Apart from two disciples who had barely managed to practice qi and learn the basics of breathing exercises, the others had learned some Daoist fist techniques and swordsmanship, which helped them to strengthen their bodies and prolong their lives, but to cultivate immortality was beyond their reach. They were more like flying, wall-climbing martial artists, completely incapable of the magic of subduing demons and exorcising spirits.

It was because of this shared knowledge that the sect was merely for show. To continue the sect’s lineage depended only on two people: the old man and the young woman.

This was the main reason why the second-generation disciples wanted to establish a security escort agency. By earning money, they could save up spirit coins for her and a third-generation disciple, a young boy, so that they could buy expensive cultivation resources at the immortal ferry. Otherwise, relying solely on what the mountain produced, neither of them would ever become immortals.

The visitor chuckled. “I am a martial artist who has reached the Qi Refining realm, and can hear the buzzing of mosquitoes within a hundred yards. I happened to overhear your discussion just now. Forgive my intrusion.”

One of the boys rolled his eyes. He hated Cao Mo’s tone, always boasting about the three realms of Qi Refining in martial arts, as if afraid others would not know he was a fourth realm martial arts master.

If he was so powerful, why not teach him one or two extraordinary skills? Even helping him to matchmake with Junior Sister Zhao would be open for discussion.

Hong Zhengyun did not think there was anything wrong with Cao Mo’s behavior, as he himself often brought up his own Cave Abode realm, like old cheese brought out to air and dry in the sun, repeatedly mentioning it to his disciples and grand disciples.

Everyone wanted something to boast about to the world.

Cao Mo then chuckled. “Brother Hong, what a coincidence! I happen to have some influence in the capital. I know a gang leader from the Fish Dragon Gang named Liu 48, and I have also met County Magistrate Han of Yongtai County. If you really do set up a security escort agency in the capital, I can help you invite some influential figures from both sides of the law to lend some support and avoid unnecessary trouble.”

Hong Zhengyun stroked his beard and smiled, afraid that his disciples would not understand the weight of Cao Mo’s words. The old man explained, “I have heard of that leader. This martial arts master apparently gained great fame in the accompanying capital alongside the Invincible Divine Fist Gang’s Fairy Helian. As for County Magistrate Han of Yongtai County, don’t be fooled by the title ‘County Magistrate’. A county magistrate of the Great Li capital is no less important than a Minister in the vassal states. Cao Mo, you have good connections!”

The tiger-headed boy retorted, “Cao, how far away were you when you saw these big shots and officials? Also a hundred yards?”

Sure enough, Cao Mo was momentarily at a loss for words, his face revealing some embarrassment, as if his lie had been exposed.

Apart from her, the other disciples burst into laughter. The old man quickly reprimanded them for their rudeness and apologized, “I have not taught them well. Brother Cao Mo, please don’t take it to heart.”

Cao Mo nodded and smiled. “If I were to hold a grudge against these youngsters, it would mean that I, as an elder, lacked magnanimity.”

Hong Zhengyun had chatted with Cao Mo a few times, and knew that this wandering martial artist was well-versed in human affairs and had great talent, with some knowledge of the teachings of the Three Sects and the Hundred Schools, and a thorough understanding of the customs of the various continents. What fourth realm martial artist? He was at least in the fifth realm!

The old man waved his hand, dismissing his disciples to their respective cultivation, leaving behind only Zhao Li, the most promising, or rather, the only one with any hope of reaching the middle five realms.

Hong Zhengyun asked softly, “Brother Cao Mo, can you really help the security escort agency connect with County Magistrate Han of Yongtai County?”

He retorted, “Is the security escort agency a legitimate business?”

Hong Zhengyun chuckled wryly and said slowly, “Our sect is small and insignificant, we have neither the guts nor the means to engage in underhanded activities.”

Chen Ping’an smiled. “I happen to know of a deserted cave in the capital region called the Green Mystery Cave, which has long been without an owner. Why don’t you simply move there and establish your sect?”

Hong Zhengyun said helplessly, “Although I have not heard of the Green Mystery Cave, how can we possibly take possession of a deserted Daoist site in the Great Li capital? It must be a Feng Shui treasure carefully monitored by the imperial court.”

Chen Ping’an nodded. “I was negligent, I assumed too much.”

Hong Zhengyun hesitated.

Zhao Li said softly, “Master Cao, my master wants to ask if you know any friends who could introduce me to another immortal house to practice cultivation, but I am unwilling to do so.”

Hong Zhengyun blushed.

Chen Ping’an asked, “If I were to boast that I could take you to the Evergreen Palace to start cultivating from scratch, would Brother Hong agree, and would you be willing to go?”

Zhao Li’s face turned red, and she bit her lip. She turned and left gracefully, uttering, “Libertine!”

Even Chen Ping’an was somewhat puzzled. He had already stated that it was a boast to see how Hong Zhengyun and Zhao Li viewed cultivation. But how did it become associated with a lecher?

Hong Zhengyun suppressed his laughter. “Brother Cao, you are exaggerating too much. Zhao Li misunderstood that you had ulterior motives, wanting to deceive her into going to the Evergreen Palace, and then, during the scenic journey, well?”

Chen Ping’an could not help but smile, and did not bother to explain further. “Brother Hong, they do not understand, there are some misunderstandings. I believe you know that I came here without any improper intentions.”

Hong Zhengyun said with a chuckle, “I was young once, full of energy. Who does not have a love for beauty?”

The old man enjoyed chatting with Cao Mo, not only because they both had extensive knowledge and were well-read, but also because Cao Mo could take a joke. Perhaps the reason they got along so well was that they were both good at self-mockery.

Hong Zhengyun patted Chen Ping’an on the shoulder. “We will not bother you with the security escort agency for now. We will talk about it if we really encounter any problems in the future.”

Although the old man was not familiar with the situation in the Great Li capital, he had gathered some information about it in advance due to his disciples’ preparations for the security escort agency, and knew the surnames of the two county magistrates of Changning County and Yongtai County.

Chen Ping’an crossed his arms and said softly, “I just do not understand how a rogue cultivator, who was displaced in such a chaotic world, was willing to give away all his wealth to save more than three hundred women and children, and arrange proper settlements for each of them, when everyone was struggling to protect themselves.”

The old man was silent for a moment, then smiled. “You understand.”

Chen Ping’an smiled knowingly.

After chatting for a while, Cao Mo bid farewell, saying that he was going to search for valuable herbs in the mountains. In the old man’s eyes, the small figure was like a mustard seed. In that desolate place, accompanied only by ancient pines and white clouds, he agilely climbed and descended between the distant cliffs like an ape.

If a great craftsman uses a plumb line to show people the rules, then a great doctor can take the pulse of a country and diagnose its ailments, saving the common people.

Everyone says that immortals are good, free from heat and cold in the mountains, opening the curtains to see green mountains, and smiling at the spring breeze.

At the Green Mystery Cave of the Ape Treading Post, which Gu Can had already explored, Chen Ping’an found a place with no mysterious or extraordinary qualities. According to historical records, it had once been a temporary resting place for a wandering Daoist. Later, embellished by gossips, it took on strange immortal characteristics. From here, Chen Ping’an gazed into the distance at the road leading into the city, before using the Earth Shrinking Technique to go to the Imperial Preceptor’s Residence and change into court attire.

The Chief Eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial was waiting at the palace gate, and had been for quite some time.

Chen Ping’an said, “I have kept His Majesty waiting.”

The head of the Great Li Dynasty’s eunuchs smiled. “Not long.”

The Chief Eunuch asked softly, “Imperial Preceptor, may I ask when Miss Xie’s travelogue will be published?”

Chen Ping’an asked, “Will it really sell?”

The Chief Eunuch smiled. “It depends on the price and who wrote the preface.”

Perhaps life itself was a journey of mountains and rivers, each person’s journey written differently, stopping and starting, resting and setting off, remembering and forgetting, meeting and parting, traveling far and reuniting, whether at home, abroad, or in the heart.