(Chapter 2)

The bamboo slips lay serenely on the courtyard wall, basking in the warmth of the early spring sun alongside their master.

Then came an uninvited guest.

Dong Shui Jing.

The honest youth who had declined to accompany Li Bao Ping and his two other classmates on their distant journey to the Great Sui Dynasty. Dong Shui Jing had chosen to remain in the small town, while Shi Chun Jia, the little girl with pigtails, had opted to follow her family’s relocation to the Great Li capital.

The final five students remaining at Master Qi’s academy had thus parted ways, scattered to the four corners of the world.

Upon recognizing Dong Shui Jing, Chen Ping An quickly invited him into the courtyard. The girl in the pink dress nimbly brought out refreshments and snacks. Dong Shui Jing appeared somewhat reserved and even embarrassed, like a young pupil who had committed a transgression, awaiting the teacher’s reprimand in the schoolhouse.

Chen Ping An truly didn’t believe Dong Shui Jing had made a mistake by staying in town.

During their travels, one night, when the timid Li Huai had summoned him to relieve himself together, Chen Ping An had heard Li Huai casually mention Dong Shui Jing’s background. They said he was named Dong Shui Jing because when his mother was pregnant with him, she had gone to the Iron Chain Well to fetch water, only to give birth to Dong Shui Jing while bending over. This became a source of amusement for his classmates, but Dong Shui Jing never bothered to explain anything, letting them jest as they pleased.

As for the matter of Dong Shui Jing and Lin Shou Yi both being fond of Li Huai’s sister, Chen Ping An was well aware, though he wasn’t particularly interested in its veracity.

Song Ji Xin from next door had long ago remarked that young men their age from Fulu Street and Taoye Lane already had serving girls, while those from Qilong Lane and Xinghua Lane likely had matchmakers arranging potential matches. Becoming a father at just a year or two older was perfectly normal in the town. But in the poorest alleys like Ni Ping Lane, men might remain unmarried until their thirties or forties.

Dong Shui Jing briefly discussed the new academy in town, and Chen Ping An responded by sharing some amusing anecdotes from his travels, careful not to mention anything too bizarre, lest Dong Shui Jing overthink it. After all, being honest didn’t equate to lacking intelligence.

Dong Shui Jing was delighted to learn that the town would soon have its own postal station, and he requested the mailing address of the Cliffside Academy in the Great Sui Dynasty, eager to write letters to Li Bao Ping and the others. Chen Ping An hesitated, knowing that postal service implied family letters and hard-earned money, which Dong Shui Jing, now alone and impoverished, might not be able to afford. However, Chen Ping An ultimately remained silent, resolving to keep the matter in mind.

Dong Shui Jing departed cheerfully.

The boy in green clucked his tongue, “That big oaf isn’t so bad after all. I thought he’d come to freeload off the master. If he dared to…”

He instinctively glanced at Chen Ping An, swallowing the words that reached his lips, and amended, “Then I would kindly advise him, making sure to explain the importance of empathy.”

Chen Ping An smiled and patted the boy’s head, “I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”

On the second day of the New Year, the town’s custom was to begin visiting relatives and offering New Year’s greetings.

Chen Ping An had no relatives to visit, so he simply took the two youngsters to Mount Luopo.

Mount Luopo was located southwest of Dragon Spring County. Three nearby peaks, of varying sizes, were overshadowed by Mount Luopo, named Jumping Fish Mountain, Soaring Deer Ridge, and Celestial Capital Peak, respectively. Each had been purchased by immortal factions outside the Great Li Dynasty. In order to create distinctive residences, construction had continued at a feverish pace, day and night, until the eve of the past New Year.

Today, as Chen Ping An and his companions passed Celestial Capital Peak, the mountain was finally quiet.

Over the past year, grand residences, palaces, pavilions, terraces, lofty towers, courtyard mansions, viewing platforms atop peaks, cable bridges suspended between mountains – all sorts of extravagant structures had risen from the forests, a sight to behold.

As for the development of Mount Luopo under Chen Ping An’s name, since it was largely covered by the Great Li Ministry of Works’ existing budget, and he, as the mountain’s lord, had no additional construction needs, it appeared rather desolate despite its vastness. If Mount Luopo, with its resident mountain god, was already like this, then Baozhu Mountain, Colorful Cloud Peak, and Immortal Herb Mountain were even worse – lifeless, making the修士 in charge of supervising construction on neighboring mountains laugh whenever they glanced at their neighbors.

To spend a fortune buying a mountain but lacking the funds to develop it – how absurd.

As Chen Ping An and his party approached their own mountain, Wei Bo appeared again, as if from nowhere.

Chen Ping An handed Wei Bo a small pouch containing a superior serpent gallbladder stone, asking Wei Bo to deliver it to the fierce black snake from Chess Mound Mountain. Wei Bo accepted the New Year’s gift with a smile, promising to deliver it without embezzlement.

As they ascended the mountain together, Chen Ping An inquired about the academy. Wei Bo, of course, knew more of the inside story than Dong Shui Jing. He recounted that it was a family academy established by the Chen clan of Dragon Tail Creek, open to everyone and free of charge. Even many young descendants of the Lu clan, former convicts, could attend, effectively saving dozens of lives. Otherwise, it was uncertain if those physically weak children could have survived the past winter.

With the flourishing of Dragon Spring County, numerous clans from neighboring prefectures had migrated there, mostly wealthy and influential families, who spent lavishly on purchasing houses and land in the town and its surroundings. The grand residences on Fulu Street and Taoye Lane were, of course, the prime choices. Even the old houses in Qilong Lane and Xinghua Lane had changed hands.

In just one year, the academy had gained over a hundred students, and the teachers were all renowned scholars and Confucian luminaries.

At this point, Wei Bo smiled and asked, “Don’t you find it a bit overkill? Why would those usually aloof and prestigious scholars be willing to leave their homes and suffer hardship here, especially when their students are just a group of children and teenagers?”

Chen Ping An nodded, asking, “Did the Chen clan of Dragon Tail Creek spend a lot of money?”

Wei Bo laughed heartily, waving his hand. “It’s not about money at all. Among those learned teachers, there are even two Sages. How could they be motivated by money? They are hoping to enter Piyi Cloud Mountain, because an interesting place called Linlu Academy is about to appear on the mountain.”

The boy in green interrupted, “You said you live on Piyi Cloud Mountain. Don’t tell me you’re just a handyman at Linlu Academy?”

“Go, go, go, go cool off somewhere else. I’m discussing important matters with your master here.”
Wei Bo feigned a dismissive wave, then continued speaking to Chen Ping’an, “Even a blind man could see that the Dali Dynasty has grand designs. The Linlu Academy is clearly meant to rival the Cliffs Academy of the Dasui Dynasty. Once Dali successfully advances southward, and the Hong Clan of Dasui is destroyed, the status of the Lakeside Academy will be…” He paused for a moment, then continued, “Therefore, the earlier one enters the Linlu Academy, the greater the chance of becoming a ‘Minister of the Ascendant Dragon.’”

“There’s no helping it. If scholars want to realize their ambitions, to govern and benefit the people, they need a seat in the imperial court. Otherwise, it’s all just empty talk. Of course, if one can’t squeeze into officialdom, they can retreat and cultivate themselves, focusing on scholarship. It’s not bad to spread knowledge and teach the people in local areas, guiding customs and morals, but compared to the former, it’s ultimately a bit lonely.”

“Beyond the Lakeside Academy, the right to establish the second of the seventy-two Confucian Academies in the Treasure Bottle Continent will inevitably fall upon the Linlu Academy.”

Wei Bo spoke lightly, his sleeves swaying as he ascended the mountain, like two white clouds drifting towards the summit.

The pink-skirted girl, carrying a book box, watched with rapt attention, imagining that her own master would one day possess such extraordinary grace.

Chen Ping’an suddenly asked, “Wei Bo, are you a Mountain Deity now?”

Wei Bo smiled knowingly, “Chen Ping’an, I’ve been waiting for you to ask that question.”

The green-robed boy curled his lip, a look of disdain on his face.

A Mountain Deity?

*I* have a Water Deity brother who commands a great river!

Wei Bo raised a hand, pointing towards Mount Pīyún, “I am currently the Mountain Deity of Mount Pīyún.”

The green-robed boy, walking alongside the pink-skirted girl, secretly shook his head, acting mischievous.

Wei Bo added, “If there are no unforeseen circumstances, Mount Pīyún will soon be exceptionally promoted to become the Northern Sacred Peak of Dali.”

Chen Ping’an stopped in his tracks, asking, “The Northern Sacred Peak? Not the Southern Sacred Peak?”

Wei Bo shook his head, “It is the Northern Sacred Peak.”

The pink-skirted girl gasped, her eyes filled with admiration. The Five Sacred Peaks, true deities indeed, especially as the Sacred Peak deity of the Dali Dynasty.

The green-robed boy swallowed, clearing his throat, and quickly walked to Wei Bo’s side, looking up with a slight smile, “Immortal Master Wei, are you tired from walking? Do you need to sit down and rest? Should I massage your shoulders and legs for you, old sir?”

Wei Bo smiled, “Oh, why aren’t you arguing with me?”

The green-robed boy put on a righteous face, “Immortal Master Wei! You are my master’s good friend and brother. My master and I are family, so that makes us half-friends, right? Is that appropriate, Immortal Master Wei?”

Wei Bo pinched the little watersnake’s cheek, not lightly, “Mischievous.”

The green-robed boy’s smile froze, not daring to resist.

There was nothing he could do. If Wei Bo wasn’t lying, then both he and his master were currently under someone else’s roof. Even if Chen Ping’an owned many peaks, as long as he was still in Longquan County, he would still need to rely on others. As a high and mighty Mountain Deity, even a sneeze could make the mountains in his jurisdiction tremble. Withholding spiritual energy, excavating the mountain’s roots, he could do all these things silently and secretly.

Wei Bo asked with a smile, “The activity around Mount Shénxiù is quite significant. Even if they aren’t pausing the mountain opening today, Chen Ping’an, do you want to take a look? It’s quite interesting.”

Chen Ping’an, with some anticipation, nodded vigorously, “Yes, I’ve always wanted to see.”

Wei Bo whistled, and soon a sound came from the mountain, growing louder and louder. Finally, a huge black snake with a gold stripe on its belly slithered over, appearing in their sight. The green-robed boy and the pink-skirted girl were both a little nervous. Creatures related to the dragon were prone to cannibalism, and this black snake had already shown signs of evolving into a flood dragon.

Many powerful demons of the dragon lineage, some who had even cultivated human forms and reached the seventh, eighth, or even ninth realms, showed no signs of dragon transformation.

The green-robed boy often muttered that their cultivation relied on talent, not entirely on their own laziness. He was at least half right.

Wei Bo tossed the pouch to the black snake, “New Year’s money from Chen Ping’an. Don’t rush to swallow it. Now, you will carry us to Mount Shénxiù.”

The black snake’s eyes were extremely calm, without a trace of struggle or resistance. It slowly lowered its head, showing sufficient gentleness and goodwill.

The group of four stood on the black snake’s body, crossed Mount Luòpò, and descended from the northern slope. During this time, the black snake carefully avoided the Mountain Deity Temple.

After leaving the Chessboard Mountain and arriving at Mount Luòpò, the violent black snake had restrained itself greatly.

Clearly, Wei Bo had made a great contribution.

Advancing rapidly, Wei Bo, clad in white, pointed to a group of people in the distance at the foot of the mountain, explaining with a smile, “Those are members of the Mò Clan, skilled in mechanical arts, and some Yin-Yang practitioners who are adept at surveying and geomancy. They have all been hired to come to the mountains of Longquan County. These two groups often appear together, cooperating seamlessly, and are key figures needed to open mountains, establish sects, and create immortal residences.”

Later, on a hillside, they saw several giant gray toads with bulging, snow-white bellies, slowly moving up the mountain.

It turned out they were River-Swallowing Toads, capable of holding tens of thousands of pounds of river water in their bellies. Once they reached the top of the mountain, they only needed to open their mouths to pour the water into the newly dug ponds.

There was also a slightly smaller type of toad, called Road-Opening Toads, whose bellies were extremely tough. As they crawled, they could crush out a smooth mountain path of suitable width.

However, they did not see the young Mountain-Moving Apes that Wei Bo mentioned, which were raised by the Dali Dynasty.

Then, in the area of Yellow Flower Peak, Chen Ping’an and the others encountered a group of Daoists who were commanding Yellow Turban Warriors, each two zhang tall, to open the mountains, break the earth, and move giant rocks.

It turned out that creating grotto-heavens was almost impossible without the talisman-wielding Daoist cultivators. In their hands, talismans, once touched the ground, would transform into puppets with limited intelligence, capable of following the simplest instructions, working tirelessly until their spiritual energy was exhausted, at which point they would automatically turn into piles of talisman ash.
Wei Bo led Chen Ping’an to Mount Wutong. Even from afar at the foot of the mountain, its grandeur was striking, for the entire summit of this sprawling mountain range had been leveled. When the black serpent carried them onto the dust-laden flatland, they learned it spanned four or five *li* in circumference and would become a “ferry crossing.” However, unlike the ferries for common folk, which plied waterways, this was a ferry for cultivators, sailing upon a sea of clouds. As for the nature of the “great ship,” Wei Bo deliberately kept it a secret.

Past Mount Wutong lay Mount Shenxiu, not far off, separated only by Mount Baolu, nominally under Chen Ping’an’s ownership, and Mount Niujiao, purchased by a cultivator from the Southern Stream Kingdom. Mount Niujiao wasn’t particularly tall, its form appearing stout and solid, with buildings stretching successively from its base to its summit.

Wei Bo leaped off the black serpent’s back, motioning for Chen Ping’an to follow. He then instructed the black serpent to remain at the mountain’s foot.

A plaque hung above the mountain gate, emblazoned with the three characters “Bao Fu Zhai” in shimmering gold.

An expert on the inside, Wei Bo explained as they walked, “This place is both a pawnshop and an antique store, possessing everything imaginable. Anything can be bought or sold, so long as the price is agreed upon – money for goods, simple as that. Its founder was originally a destitute, unschooled cultivator, forced to carry a satchel (*bao fu*) filled with odds and ends, traveling from place to place, buying low and selling high. Upon achieving success, he simply named the business ‘Bao Fu Zhai.’ Mount Niujiao is one of their branch locations. Each building sells a different type of antique and treasure. The buildings are mostly complete now, but only a fraction of the goods have arrived. They’re likely waiting for the completion of the Mount Wutong ferry crossing to begin large-scale transport.”

On Mount Niujiao, whether they were influential managers of Bao Fu Zhai or wandering cultivators visiting as sightseers, all showed the utmost respect and deference, bordering on obsequiousness, toward the white-robed man who would soon become the Mountain God of Dali. Thus, they passed unhindered. Bao Fu Zhai even dispatched a dignified woman to personally guide them, explaining the treasures within each treasure hall.

Chen Ping’an’s eyes were opened. In “Hall of Fragments,” he saw unique azure-script poem jars, engraved with azure-script verses from Daoist scriptures. There were seven of them, the tallest reaching about half a man’s height, the shortest extending an arm’s length. It was said they contained spring water, all drawn from the hundred most famous springs in the world. The water was as clear as jade, flowing like a rainbow, perfect for brewing tea for guests.

“A man can go a day without grain, but not a day without water. Water is the essence of nourishment. Thus, the saying ‘when in Rome, do as the Romans do,’ drinking the local water is paramount.”

“At Bao Fu Zhai, we have dedicated cultivators meticulously measure water from various locations, using silver square measures and small scales to weigh it. Lightness, clarity, and sweetness must all be present before we collect and store it in these azure-script jars. We dare not call it divine nectar, but we guarantee it is brimming with spiritual energy, and not a single drop will be allowed to become mundane.”

Though not strikingly beautiful, the woman’s voice was soft and melodic, like the gentle babble of a brook.

In “Hall of Spectacle,” they had barely stepped inside when they saw a screen of life-sized paintings, depicting twelve peerless beauties. Each was selected as the most beautiful woman from a particular province or nation, rendered by a master painter. What was more extraordinary was that the beauties appeared alive, some lowering their heads to play the zither, sleeves flowing like water, others gazing with a hand to their cheek, and still others chasing butterflies with a fan, charming and endearing.

A single glance revealed a screen full of beauties, each unique and captivating.

There were also climate screens depicting the twenty-four solar terms. The Awakening of Insects featured flashes of lightning and claps of thunder, the Pure Brightness season was marked by drizzling rain, and the Mid-Autumn Festival displayed a full moon in the sky, its radiance pristine.

Such ingenious ideas caused onlookers to exclaim in wonder.

Because of Wei Bo’s presence, the woman made an exception and allowed Chen Ping’an to tour their private spiritual garden. There, farmer-cultivators carrying rare flowers and herbs were tending to the fields. Cultivating a spiritual garden not only allowed for the sale of precious flowers and trees but also preserved the mountain’s spiritual energy and provided aesthetic pleasure, making it a favorite among immortal sects.

Having witnessed these incredible sights, Chen Ping’an understood what it truly meant to be wealthy.

After thanking the woman, who had never revealed her name, they descended the mountain and exited the gatehouse. Wei Bo first had Chen Ping’an turn to look at Mount Niujiao, then snapped his fingers in front of his eyes, and smiled, “Look again. What’s different?”

Chen Ping’an focused and saw that Mount Niujiao was shrouded in a layer of bluish-grey mist, with occasional streaks of snow-white lightning flashing through it.

Wei Bo explained, “This is what’s known as a mountain-protecting array. The array on Mount Niujiao is based on the famous ‘Cloud-Dream Lake Vapors’ array diagram. Originally a landscape painting by a Confucian sage, it was later refined and perfected, eventually becoming an array diagram. Besides protecting the mountain and defending against attacks, it also functions as a feng shui arrangement, warding off evil and transforming turbid energy into pure energy.”

Chen Ping’an exclaimed, “Truly amazing.”

Wei Bo chuckled, “Does it make you feel poor all of a sudden?”

Chen Ping’an shook his head. “I don’t feel poor, but I do feel not-rich.”

Wei Bo laughed heartily. The party remounted the black serpent and continued toward Mount Shenxiu.

Wei Bo told Chen Ping’an that while actual gold and silver weren’t entirely absent from transactions on the mountains, they were mostly just used for small sums. Unless both parties possessed rare and precious pocket-sized or palm-sized objects, it was simply too inconvenient. What if a magical artifact cost eight hundred thousand taels of gold? Converting it to silver would be even more absurd. Thus, large-scale transactions on the mountains used specialized “currency.”

Soon, they were close enough to see Mount Shenxiu.

Mount Shenxiu was incredibly tall.

If not for Mount Piyun, this majestic peak would have been the most outstanding, towering over all the other mountains.

Chen Ping’an asked, “Is Miss Ruan on the mountain?”

Wei Bo shook his head. “No, she’s not.”

On Mount Shenxiu, a precipitous cliff face, concealed by billowing clouds, bore four large characters: “Heaven Opens, Divine Splendor.”

Unless one could fly on the wind, even a Qi Refinement practitioner would likely be unable to glimpse its true form.

This was because Ruan Shi had initially established a rule that within the bounds of Longquan County, no cultivator was allowed to fly freely. This caused cultivators in the vicinity of Dali to face many inconveniences, and it was no exaggeration to say that resentment ran high.

Back then, when the vast and mighty swordsmen from the distant north outside of Baojuan Continent passed over the town, they still lowered their altitude to show goodwill.
Beyond acknowledging the swordsmith Ruan Qiong, there was a greater respect for those two words that underpinned this vast world: Order.

This intangible principle added a layer of prestige to Ruan Qiong’s reputation. Among the sword cultivators heading to Hanging Mountain, there were more than a few Land Immortals, yet they acquiesced to this “order.” Consequently, Ruan Qiong’s position within the Great Li Dynasty rose precipitously, and any dissenting voices, already faint, vanished entirely.

In this realm, once one achieved the status of a celestial immortal, they could certainly live a carefree existence, unbound by many worldly conventions.

However, one mustn’t forget the three great academies of Confucianism, the seventy-two academies, and the nine majestic fortresses.

Mountain demons, sea monsters, sword immortals – nothing could not be suppressed by these nine towering bastions.

Even if Ruan Qiong’s personal rules, stemming from his background at the Wind and Snow Temple and not from the halls of Confucianism, aligned with this greater order and resonated with the grand tenets of the Confucian Way, then the governing power of Confucianism would, in turn, bestow favor upon Ruan Qiong. Ultimately, this would help Ruan Qiong’s minor rules to form a kind of unspoken deterrent. Both sides complemented each other, ultimately achieving a mutually beneficial outcome.

This was precisely the grand cosmic order personally established by the Sage of Rites in bygone eras.

Invisible and intangible, yet ubiquitous.

Wei Bo did not ascend the mountain but instead directed the black snake to retrace its path. Sitting cross-legged, he remarked with emotion, “It’s like here. On the maps of any dynasty, mountains stand tall, dotted with immortal residences and sects. They are mountain lords on the mountains and dragon kings in the waters. Some monarchs view them as bulwarks of the dynasty, while others see them as independent forces, heeding their own calls rather than the emperor’s, akin to vassal kings or local emperors, too powerful to control. However, at the root of it all, the fact that the mountains and the world below can generally maintain a peaceful coexistence is all thanks to the Sage of Rites’ transformative contribution.”

Chen Ping’an sat beside Wei Bo and softly replied, “These things are too distant from me.”

Wei Bo smiled. “Far when you speak of distance, near when you speak of closeness.”

Chen Ping’an looked back at Divine Show Mountain, murmuring, “Is that so.”

In Mud Bottle Alley, a maiden clad in azure stood outside Chen Ping’an’s ancestral home, gazing at the closed courtyard gate. She scrutinized the Spring Festival couplets and the door gods for a few moments before intending to turn around and return home.

Then, three women approached rapidly, dragging two children of about ten years old behind them. Upon seeing the maiden, they smiled and said, “So, Miss Xiu’er has come as well.”

Ruan Xiu acted as if she didn’t hear them, ignoring them completely. In truth, she felt somewhat annoyed.

The common women didn’t mind. Although they didn’t know who the maiden’s father, the blacksmith Master Ruan, truly was, they vaguely understood that Master Ruan was someone extraordinary. They heard whispered rumors, like the county magistrate treating that man as an equal. At any rate, they weren’t disbelieving, but they only chose to believe half of it.

It was just that, after dealing with the maiden multiple times at those two shops in Riding Dragon Alley, they went from feeling apprehensive at the beginning to feeling at ease. They didn’t think she had any young miss airs; it was just that she never smiled.

Ruan Xiu really wanted to hold back her words as usual, but today, she couldn’t help it. She looked at them and said coldly, “It’s one thing for you to freeload at the shops; I can not tell Chen Ping’an and mark it on my own account, but why are you even coming to Chen Ping’an’s house to make a scene?”

“Aiyo, my dear Miss Xiu’er, you don’t know the relationship we have with little Ping’an. We women had a good relationship with his mother when we were young. So, after little Ping’an’s parents passed away, without mentioning anything else, during those two funerals, who didn’t contribute money and effort? Later, little Ping’an was all alone. If it weren’t for us kind neighbors helping out, a child that small would have starved to death long ago. How could he have the prosperous life he has today…”

“Exactly, exactly. Little Ping’an has to call me Second Aunt when he sees me. Back then, when he ate at my house, I couldn’t bear to eat the good meat and fish myself, or let my own children eat it; I had to put it in little Ping’an’s bowl. That kindness isn’t worth much, but now that little Ping’an has become wealthy, not only does he have two such large shops, but I heard he even has several mountains. He can’t just kick away the ladder after crossing the river, right? Can’t he remember the good deeds of us aunts and grannies? It would be so heartless to do that…”

“Miss Xiu’er, we know that you are from a wealthy family, and we are being polite to you, you can’t deny that, right? But Miss Xiu’er, you really don’t know the difficulties of us poor people. The kids have to go to school, and the dragon kilns aren’t doing well. We’re suffering. Furthermore, we’re not asking little Ping’an for thousands or tens of thousands of taels of silver. It’s just that it’s the New Year, and we’re asking little Ping’an, as the older brother, for a few dozen taels of silver as lucky money for the kids. Miss Xiu’er, put your hand on your heart and tell me, isn’t that too much?”

Ruan Xiu’s expression was cold as she directly retorted, “I think it’s too much.”

The atmosphere in the chattering alleyway immediately became extremely awkward.

One of the women slapped her thigh. “Miss Xiu’er, you can’t say things like that. After little Ping’an left the town last time, Miss Xiu’er asked someone to send us some gifts as a token of gratitude. We won’t lie; yes, we did receive some things, but those things can’t be exchanged for copper coins. Poor families have to live life, and without money to buy rice, we can’t even cook. How are we supposed to live? We adults don’t matter, but the children are still so small. Miss Xiu’er, look, my son’s arms are so thin, no better than little Ping’an’s were back then. How can you bear it?”

Ruan Xiu nodded with a stern face. “I can bear it.”

The women were all dumbstruck.

One of the women snapped back to her senses and whispered, “Let’s not talk to her. Let’s just find Chen Ping’an. If he dares to be stingy, we’ll point at his spine and curse him, and see if he still wants his reputation.”

The other two women nodded in agreement. This method would definitely work. One of them, with a twinkle in her eye, lowered her voice and laughed, “Chen Ping’an is most afraid of others speaking ill of his parents. This is the most effective.”

“Scram!”

Ruan Xiu extended a finger, pointing towards one end of Mud Bottle Alley. Her face was expressionless as she said, “Otherwise, I’ll beat you to death.”