As the youth stepped out of Mud Bottle Alley, he happened upon Zhi Gui, Song Jixin’s serving girl. After escorting the tall woman to Gu Can’s residence, she hadn’t rushed home. Instead, she wandered through the alley towards Apricot Blossom Lane, browsing the small shops. Though she purchased nothing, her mood remained cheerful, and she skipped along with light, joyous steps.

Having grown up amongst the wilds, the maiden possessed a fragrance akin to fresh grass, setting her apart from the refined demeanor of those young ladies residing in grand mansions with deep courtyards.

Upon seeing the straw-sandaled youth, she didn’t avert her gaze as she usually did. Instead of hurrying past, she paused, gazing at the neighbor she rarely interacted with, her expression hesitant.

Chen Pingan smiled at her and brushed past, breaking into a run that grew swifter with each step.

Zhi Gui stood quietly at the entrance of Mud Bottle Alley, turning her head to watch the impoverished youth running in the sunlight. He resembled a resilient wildcat, constantly scrounging about, not particularly handsome, but seemingly incapable of starving to death.

The maiden wasn’t well-liked in the town. Burdened by Song Jixin’s eccentric nature, Zhi Gui, the girl’s name, always gave off an impression of being aloof, whether she was fetching water from the Iron Lock Well, going to market, or buying stationery for her young master. She had no playmates of her age and rarely spoke to acquaintances. To the townspeople, who favored lively festivities, such a maiden was difficult to approach.

In this regard, Chen Pingan’s situation mirrored Zhi Gui’s. However, while the youth was also taciturn, his inherent nature was far from unpleasant. On the contrary, he was gentle and friendly, lacking any sharp edges. It was only due to his family’s decline and his early employment at the dragon kiln that he seemed distant from his neighbors. Of course, the residents of Mud Bottle Alley harbored certain unspoken fears regarding the youth’s birthday. The fifth day of the fifth month was considered an “evil day,” a time when all poisons emerged in the local folklore. Born on this day, and having lost both his parents, Chen Pingan was the sole surviving member of his family, naturally causing unease. The older folks, who liked to gather near the old locust tree, were particularly distant towards the youth, privately cautioning their children to avoid him. But whenever the children, unwilling and inquisitive, demanded an explanation, the elders couldn’t provide a satisfactory answer.

At that moment, a slender figure emerged from the alley, standing beside the maiden. Zhi Gui turned her head, walked forward without a word. The man turned and walked alongside her in Mud Bottle Alley, he was Qi Jingchun, the local academy teacher, the town’s only learned man, a true Confucian disciple.

The maiden continued walking, her face cold. “Isn’t it better if we keep to ourselves? Moreover, you should remember that you once held all the advantages, while I was just a lowly servant girl. Of course, I had to swallow my pride, but recently, your distant Dharma practice, millions of miles away, seems to have encountered some problems, right? So now, you’re just well water, and I am the river!”

Qi, the uninvited guest in Mud Bottle Alley, smiled slightly, saying, “Wang Zhu, let’s just call you Zhi Gui for now, as the locals do. Zhi Gui, have you ever considered that even though you are favored by Heaven and Earth, born according to the times, do you really believe that I have no means of suppression? Or do you think that thousands of years ago, the four Holy Ones, who rarely show themselves, personally came to this place and established rules just to talk about it, without leaving any countermeasures? In the end, you’re just sitting in a well, looking at the sky. The height of the heavens and the vastness of the earth are far beyond the view from the well’s mouth.”

The maiden frowned. “Qi, don’t try to intimidate me with words. I’m not Song Jixin, your young master. I’m not interested in your grand pronouncements, nor do I believe them. Why don’t you be frank? Whether it’s a fight to the death or an amicable separation, I’m ready for anything.”

The middle-aged Confucian slowly said, “I advise you to leave this cage and not push your luck, or drain the pond to catch the fish, it won’t benefit anyone. Especially after you and him embark on the path of cultivation, whether you become Daoist partners or not, you should restrain your sharpness and not be arrogant and reckless. This isn’t a threat, but some heartfelt words of advice as we part ways, a kind reminder.”

Although their statuses were vastly different, Zhi Gui was neither servile nor overbearing. In fact, her aura seemed to subtly overshadow the Confucian’s. She sneered, “Kindness? For thousands of years, you remarkable cultivators have been high and mighty, drawing boundaries and treating this place like a field, reaping a harvest one year and pulling up a bundle the next, unchanging for a thousand years. Why is it that only now are you starting to think about ‘being kind’ to a fiend like me? Haha, I heard my young master say something that many of you regard as a guiding principle: ‘Those who are not of our kind must have different intentions,’ right? So, I can’t blame you, Qi, because after all…”

Qi continued forward, taking a gentle step, a faint smile on his face. “Oh?”

After that step.

Zhi Gui’s expression changed slightly.

They didn’t know when, but they were standing in a place where it was pitch black, and only the faint top, with countless rays of sacred light falling.

They seemed to be at the bottom of a bottomless well, with golden sunlight slowly descending from the well’s mouth.

The middle-aged Confucian wore a green robe with shimmering patterns that flowed continuously.

Righteousness, upright and bright.

The maiden’s face first contorted, but soon returned to a numb, indifferent expression, muttering, “Sixty years of Buddhist chants, like thunder in my ears, ceaseless. Sixty years of Daoist talismans, like maggots on bones, desperately gnawing. Sixty years of righteousness, covering the sky and earth, nowhere to hide. Sixty years of military sword energy, like an earthquake, nowhere untouched. Every sixty years is a cycle, for three thousand years, never a moment of peace… I just want to know where your so-called Daoist foundations are. I can see and hear the black and white words in your books, the profound meanings in your teachings, but I can’t find them…”

She gazed blankly at the righteous middle-aged man, both an obscure teacher in a remote village and Qi Jingchun of the Confucian Cliff Academy, a scholar even the powerful eunuch of the Sui Dynasty addressed as “Teacher.”

The maiden suddenly smiled, asking, “What can you teach me, how can you persuade me to do good? If I remember correctly, your Confucian Sage and one of the Daoist Patriarchs both proposed ‘education for all’?”

The man shook his head. “It’s useless to tell you ten thousand sentences of saintly teachings.”

The maiden seemed to be casually chatting with the Confucian, but she was as tense as a drawn bow, constantly scanning her surroundings for any clues to break free.

The Confucian ignored this, sneering, “I know you have endless anger, resentment, and murderous intent. I don’t reject different kinds, but you should know that casually showing compassion or excessive mercy has never been a true teaching of the Three Teachings.”

“My young master often says that arguing with scholars about principles is the most meaningless thing.” The maiden curled her lips, narrowing her strange golden pupils. “So, you’re returning to your former glory, Qi, making you even more difficult to deal with…”

He dismissed it with a smile. “It doesn’t matter if principles can’t be explained, as long as I, Qi Jingchun, am alive for one more day, and have the qualification to sit here for one more day, don’t think about baring your fangs, you ungrateful fiend!”

The maiden pointed at herself, smiling. “Ungrateful?”

The middle-aged Confucian angrily said, “When you were at your weakest, forced to bow your head and actively make a contract with someone, who saved you on a snowy day in Mud Bottle Alley?! And who has been gradually devouring his remaining fortune for so many years?!”

The maiden laughed. “When you’re hungry, you have to find something to eat and fill your stomach, isn’t that a matter of course? Besides, he didn’t have any great opportunities to begin with. Early death and early reincarnation, maybe he’ll have a glimmer of hope in the next life. If he were to remain as a rootless weed in the town, hey, then it would truly be…”

The Confucian waved his sleeve, softly shouting, “Silence!”

The scholar scolded, “The mystery of the Great Dao, the laws of Heaven, how can you determine it with a word?! Everyone has their own destiny, what right do you have to make choices for others?!”

Above the maiden’s head, a golden hand of light appeared out of thin air, its aura majestic, like the Buddha subduing a demon or the Daoist Patriarch suppressing evil. It swiftly pressed down on the maiden’s head, forcing her to kneel instantly, her forehead heavily striking the ground.

The sound of the kowtow echoed loudly.

The maiden, with her head bowed, supported herself on the ground with both hands, struggling to get up. Unseen, she let out a sinister laugh. “You can force me to bow my head, but I will never admit my mistake!”

The powerful golden hand grabbed the maiden’s head, lifted it up and pressed it down, another kowtow.

This time, the sound was as heavy as spring thunder.

The Confucian said in a deep voice, “These three kowtows are for you to pay your respects to Heaven and Earth! All Living Beings! The Great Dao!”

The maiden’s eyes were dull, and she didn’t respond.

Qi gently waved his sleeve, dispelling the suffocating power. “I, Qi Jingchun, am just a Confucian scholar under the Holy Ones, and I can force you to kowtow three times. After you go out, if you act recklessly, aren’t you afraid of encountering someone even more unreasonable than you, who will crush you with a single finger?”

Qi sighed. “Here, you are indeed suppressed and imprisoned, without freedom, but have you ever considered that there is no absolute freedom in this world? When our Confucian Sage established various rituals, wasn’t it also for the sake of all living beings, to seek another kind of freedom? As long as you don’t overstep the mark, don’t violate the rules, just abide by the etiquette, one day, the world will be vast, and you can go anywhere?”

The maiden raised her head, staring intently at the middle-aged Confucian.

Qi stepped forward.

Heaven and earth returned to normal, and he and Zhi Gui returned to Mud Bottle Alley, the sunlight warm, the spring breeze gentle.

The maiden swayed, stood up, and smiled palely, faintly revealing her grim teeth. “I will remember what you taught me today.”

Qi stopped talking and turned to leave.

She suddenly asked, “Even if I am ungrateful to Chen Pingan, why do you, as an outstanding disciple of the Holy Ones, stand idly by? Why do you only favor Zhao Yao and my young master, but treat Chen Pingan, who has an ordinary background, so carelessly? Isn’t this no different from doing business, carefully nurturing those who are expected to be valuable, and perfunctorily dealing with inferior goods, not caring whether they sell for a good price?”

Qi smiled. “Heaven acts through strength; a gentleman strives for self-improvement.”

The maiden was confused.

As the middle-aged Confucian’s figure disappeared at the end of the alley, the maiden immediately revealed a face full of disdain and spat fiercely.

She limped back to her own courtyard. When she passed Chen Pingan’s house, she wrinkled her nose and frowned, feeling a little confused. But because the damn scholar’s Dao was collapsing, the town was now leaking secrets everywhere, like a small boat leaking water. She was barely able to take care of herself and needed to carefully plan for the future, so she was too lazy to argue.

When she pushed open the courtyard gate, a seemingly ordinary four-legged snake suddenly darted out from a corner and quickly crawled to her feet, only to be kicked away in annoyance.

—

Inside Chen Pingan’s house, a young Daoist priest sat upright at the table, eyes downcast.

The black-clad maiden, who had recently been on the verge of death, was now able to sit on the bed herself, cross-legged, without wearing a veil, revealing a face that left a lasting impression.

It wasn’t that the maiden was exceptionally beautiful, but her spiritedness overshadowed her outstanding features.

The maiden’s eyebrows weren’t like willow leaves but like narrow knives.

As she gazed at the young Daoist priest with a scrutinizing gaze, he felt a rare sense of awkwardness, feeling guilty even though he had done nothing wrong.

The young Daoist priest coughed, quickly trying to clear himself. “Girl, let me make it clear, I saved the person, but it was someone else who carried you into the house, removed your veil, and washed your face, etc. His name is Chen Pingan, the owner of this dilapidated house, a poor boy with skin as dark as charcoal, orphaned, who worked as a kiln worker, and even asked me for a talisman. That’s pretty much it. If you have anything else you want to ask, I’ll tell you everything I know.”

The straw-sandaled youth had been sold out completely.

The maiden nodded, not flying into a rage, but generously saying sincerely, “Thank you for saving my life, Daoist Priest.”

The even more nervous young Daoist priest chuckled. “It’s nothing, just a small effort. It’s good that you’re okay.”

The black-clad maiden asked, “Daoist Priest isn’t from Dong Bao Ping Continent?”

The young Daoist priest asked in return, “Girl, you aren’t either, right?”

She hummed in agreement.

The Daoist priest also hummed in agreement.

The young Daoist priest with a lotus crown smiled. “My surname is Lu, my given name is Chen, and I don’t have a Daoist name. You can call me Daoist Priest Lu.”

The maiden nodded lightly, glancing at the young Daoist priest’s Daoist crown.

The young Daoist priest hesitated for a moment, then summoned his courage to say, “Although that youth did some things that weren’t proper, it was an emergency. Also, I didn’t expect you to recover so quickly. I hope you won’t blame me for any offense.”

The maiden smiled. “Daoist Priest Lu, I’m not an unreasonable person.”

The young Daoist priest chuckled. “That’s good, that’s good.”

The maiden raised an eyebrow, and the young Daoist priest’s smile became rigid.

She looked around, her expression calm.

She casually said, “I heard that ‘Ruan Shi,’ the best swordsmith in this continent, plans to open a furnace here to forge swords, so I followed him here, hoping he can help me forge a sword.”

The young Daoist priest sighed. “If it’s really him, it won’t be easy to get him to forge a sword.”

The black-clad maiden was also clearly troubled. “It’s very difficult.”

At this moment, the youth, carrying a bundle of herbs in his left hand and a small package in his right hand, first knocked on the door as a formality, then quickly stepped over the threshold, placing the herbs on the table and saying softly, “Daoist Priest, please see if I bought the wrong ingredients. If so, I’ll go exchange them right away.”

The youth continued to hold the package, turning to look at the maiden sitting cross-legged on the wooden bed. The black-clad maiden and the straw-sandaled youth met eyes.

The black-clad maiden said calmly, “Hello, my father’s surname is Ning, my mother’s surname is Yao, so my name is Ning Yao.”

The straw-sandaled youth subconsciously said, “Hello, my father’s surname is Chen, and my mother’s surname is also Chen, so…”

The youth looked embarrassed, but quickly smiled frankly. “My name is Chen Pingan!”