A gargantuan mountain hung upside down between the heavens and earth.

Its peak pointed towards the waters of the South Sea.

Chen Ping’an sat on the ancestral osmanthus tree, gazing in a daze at the awe-inspiring spectacle. It was from this very place that Ning姑娘 (gū niáng, young lady) had departed to travel the vastness of the Restrained Heaven and Earth.

Rumor had it that Suo Po Continent was the nearest great continent. He wondered if Liu Xianyang would ever come here to see it?

Osmanthus Island was about half a day’s journey away from entering the true territory of the Upside-Down Mountain. The ferries passing by were of all shapes and sizes. There were massive tortoises carrying stone tablets, translucent clam shells floating on the sea surface, and Kun-ships even larger than Da Jiao Mountain slowly descending. A sea of multicolored clouds teemed with countless magpies, and rows of cranes and azure birds dragged a tall building. Osmanthus Island, amidst all this, showed not a trace of surprise.

Chen Ping’an suddenly turned and looked down.

He saw that young woman again, with a lithe figure, delicate features, jeweled hairpins, flowing robes, and a colorful sash around her waist…

Yet, Chen Ping’an felt a prickling sensation on his scalp, an unease washing over him. This feeling was even more visceral than when he had seen Liu Chicheng in that dilapidated temple, clad in a pink Daoist robe.

Because Chen Ping’an saw the “beauty’s” Adam’s apple.

It wasn’t hatred, just discomfort.

Chen Ping’an abruptly scratched his head, staring directly at the man who loved red makeup. The knot of apprehension in his heart vanished, replaced by a touch of nostalgia.

Back when he was an apprentice at the Dragon Kiln, Chen Ping’an had known a man ridiculed for being effeminate. He was timid, walked with a sway, and loved to cast flirtatious glances and use orchid finger gestures when he spoke. In the Dragon Kiln managed by Old Yao, this man was the most discriminated against. He’d barely saved enough money to buy new shoes, only for them to be dirtied by the other kiln workers the same day. He wouldn’t dare say anything, silently enduring it all. Logically, he and the unpopular Chen Ping’an should have been in the same boat, but strangely, the crybaby of a man became bolder around Chen Ping’an, constantly making snide remarks. Chen Ping’an never paid him any attention. Several times, the man couldn’t hold his tongue, and was caught by Liu Xianyang, Old Yao’s official disciple, who would slap him until he spun in circles. He would immediately become obedient, secretly stuffing packages of snacks and pastries into Liu Xianyang’s room, each wrapped in oil paper more delicately than a shop assistant. The man was probably trying to apologize and appease Liu Xianyang, the certain-to-be future kiln master, while also currying favor.

The festive paper-cuts pasted on the Dragon Kiln windows were all cut by him alone, late into the night. Even the women in the streets and alleys would be ashamed of their own skills. Who knew how skilled he would be at needlework if he were truly a woman?

Of course, Chen Ping’an back then despised the sissy who spoke ill of others. He was afraid that if he lost control, he would beat him half to death with a single punch. At that time, Chen Ping’an had already followed the old man all over the mountains and rivers around the town, and chopping firewood and burning charcoal were commonplace. Plus, he had been practicing Old Yang’s breathing exercises every day since he was young, and his strength surpassed even that of a robust young man.

Finally, the effeminate man responsible for guarding the kiln one night made a monumental mistake: he let the Dragon Kiln fire go out. Terrified, he ran away in the middle of the night. Showing a bit of shrewdness, he didn’t dare run towards the town, but instead fled into the depths of the mountains.

In the town’s eyes, this was a sin that could lead to the extinction of one’s descendants, a crime punishable by death. Old Yao, his face ashen, ordered dozens of young men to chase after the damned bastard, and Chen Ping’an, familiar with the mountain paths, was among them.

Two days later, the effeminate man was brought back to the Dragon Kiln, bound hand and foot. Old Yao immediately broke his limbs on the spot, beating him until his skin was torn and his bones were exposed.

The people who found him were the very men he usually flattered.

No one sympathized with this man who had caused such a disaster. Even if they did, they dared not show it on their faces, because Old Yao had almost never been so angry.

Before his limbs were broken, the effeminate man had already wet himself in fear. After being pressed to the ground, he trembled all over. With each blow of the club, he screamed in agony, his face covered in snot and tears. After a flurry of blows, the sissy was like a living fish being chopped on a cutting board. A sissy was a sissy, and until he finally passed out, he never showed a trace of manly spirit.

Incredibly, the effeminate man wasn’t beaten to death. He lay in bed for half a year, stubbornly clinging to life.

During this time, many kiln workers and apprentices took care of him, Chen Ping’an included. Many were unwilling to do this unpleasant task, so they asked Chen Ping’an to do it for them. Chen Ping’an was considered the easiest to talk to in the Dragon Kiln. In the end, it was Chen Ping’an, the person the sissy liked the least, who took care of him the most. However, the two of them never spoke a word to each other, and ultimately, neither liked the other.

Chen Ping’an simply gathered herbs and brewed medicine every day. The effeminate man would occasionally stare blankly, gazing at the old window paper, now faded and white from wind and rain, perhaps thinking about the day he could get back to work and replace it with a brand new, beautiful, bright red sheet.

But even though the sissy had miraculously survived death once, this man who had stubbornly endured his way back from the gates of hell, still died.

He was killed by a single sentence.

It was a thoughtless remark from a kiln worker. Chen Ping’an was brewing medicine at the door, his back to the kiln worker and the sissy. The former said with a laugh, “Sissy, you were beaten so badly that day that your clothes were torn and your white ass was showing, just like a woman.”

Chen Ping’an didn’t think anything of it at the time.

The words the men in the Dragon Kiln usually used to scold the sissy were much more vicious and cruel than that. The sissy almost never argued with anyone. He wouldn’t dare. Back and forth, he would probably only grumble under his breath, “Dare to scold me? Believe me or not, your ancestors for eighteen generations will be dug up!”

As a result, after such a harmless remark, the sissy, who could already sit up on his own, talked to Chen Ping’an a lot that day for the first time. He did most of the talking, and the silent Chen Ping’an listened patiently. When he mentioned the window paper, Chen Ping’an sincerely praised him for cutting it well, and he would smile.

Then, that night, a sissy who was more timid than a pinprick actually used scissors to stab his own throat, not forgetting to cover himself with the blanket so that no one entering the room would see his dead state at first glance.

No one even dared to carry the body out, it was too eerie and inauspicious.
Fortunately, Chen Ping’an was accustomed to the cycle of life and death around him, so he wasn’t particularly sentimental about it. He and Liu Xianyang took care of everything together. There wasn’t much sadness or profound realization during this time. Only when guarding the spirit, Chen Ping’an sat alone in the desolate and eerie mourning hall, showing no fear. He sat by the brazier and murmured, “Since you didn’t like being a man in this life, then reincarnate as a woman in the next.”

Actually, during a casual chat that day, the effeminate man asked Chen Ping’an why, even though he was the first to find him, he let him go and pointed out a path to the deeper mountains.

Chen Ping’an said he was afraid that he would be captured and beaten to death by Old Man Yao. With his cowardly nature, he would only become a vengeful ghost, afraid to seek revenge on anyone else, only daring to retaliate against him.

The effeminate man laughed heartily at the time.

Even now, when Chen Ping’an thinks about it, the effeminate man’s smile was quite ugly.

But it was impossible to truly dislike him.

Beneath the osmanthus tree, the beautiful “young woman” was fuming with rage. Being stared at so intently by this guy, she, or rather he, would have unleashed his two natal flying swords to stab this dog-eyed fellow to death, if not for the fear of harming the osmanthus tree and causing unnecessary trouble.

Coming back to his senses, Chen Ping’an realized his rudeness. He cupped his fist in apology and said, “My apologies, I was a little distracted.”

The person narrowed his eyes, which resembled peach blossoms hanging with the colors of spring, extended two fingers together, and poked them towards Chen Ping’an, then slightly bent them in a gesture of intense provocation.

Chen Ping’an didn’t just turn his head; he turned his whole body, patted the empty space on a high branch beside him, and smiled, “As atonement, I can first promise you on behalf of Mistress Osmanthus that you can enjoy the scenery of the Upside-Down Mountain here.”

He put his hands behind his back, raised his face, delicate as the spring breeze, and smiled, “Do you like men? Or do you like anyone good-looking, regardless of gender?”

Chen Ping’an felt a headache coming on and shook his head vigorously to show his innocence.

He, of course, only liked girls.

And only one girl.

Near the person’s hands behind his back, two strands of sword energy appeared, one golden and one snow-white, extremely subtle and almost invisible.

Clearly, he was ready to kill with his flying swords at the slightest disagreement.

Chen Ping’an hesitated for a moment and smiled, “You might be even angrier if I say this, but you look very good dressed like that.”

Chen Ping’an propped his hands on the branch, his eyes clear, “This is what’s in my heart.”

The man, dressed in women’s attire despite being male, frowned.

He silently left, not leaving the mountaintop, but standing near the railing of the viewing platform, gazing into the distance.

Chen Ping’an jumped down from the branch and called out to his back, “I’m leaving now. If you want to admire the scenery on the osmanthus tree, it’s best to do it while there are few people, or Mistress Osmanthus might be unhappy.”

The person didn’t react.

Only after Chen Ping’an had gone far away did he turn to look at the osmanthus tree. He hesitated for a long time but still didn’t go to a higher place to view the Upside-Down Mountain.

As for the two strands of sword energy, they had long been drawn back into the colorful ribbon around his waist.

They were actually not just sword energy; they were two natal flying swords of extremely high quality, named Needle Tip and Barleycorn, respectively.

Born with them.

They were called innate sword embryos.

Moreover, having two natal flying swords from birth was one in ten thousand among sword cultivators. The key wasn’t the “one,” but the “zero” implied in the possibility.

The point was that the flying swords were of shockingly high quality, so his master said he was destined to be a Fifth-Realm Sword Immortal, or he wouldn’t have accepted him as a disciple.

But how many years it would take to reach the Jade Purity Realm, his master didn’t say, and he didn’t ask, because he wasn’t interested at all. He was more obsessed with the Great Dao Deduction Art, but unfortunately, his master said he wouldn’t go far on that path and couldn’t inherit the mantle of the sect. All his fellow disciples, including his master, encouraged him to practice sword cultivation. He knew that it wasn’t because they truly expected him to reach the pinnacle of swordsmanship and stand out, but because they were ill-intentioned and wanted to see him make a fool of himself.

The reason was simple.

He was afraid of heights.

What kind of joke was a sword cultivator who was afraid of heights?

Nowadays, when he occasionally rides his flying sword for soaring journeys, he never goes more than six feet above the ground.

He glanced at the high branch of the osmanthus tree where that guy had been sitting earlier, and thought he was actually quite foolish.

Chen Ping’an returned to the Gui Pulse Courtyard, where Golden Core Sword Cultivator Ma Zhi was already standing, welcoming him with a smile.

It turned out that Chen Ping’an had taken the initiative to find the courtyard where Ma Zhi was recuperating and asked when they could continue their sword trials. Three days later, the Gui Pulse Courtyard returned to its original state. Ma Zhi helped Chen Ping’an test his sword, Jin Su took care of three meals a day, and occasionally Mistress Osmanthus would come to the courtyard, not disturbing the two, just sitting quietly for a while, at most brewing a pot of tea for them before leaving.

During this time, Chen Ping’an took out the talisman paper where the skeletal ghost was hiding. Mistress Osmanthus took it in her hand and quickly “shook out” the white-clothed female ghost from the talisman. Then, this white-clothed female ghost, who was so imposing at the Colored Garment Country’s City God Temple, saw Mistress Osmanthus in the Nascent Soul Realm, an old ferryman who had fallen from Earth Immortal to Golden Core, a Golden Core sword cultivator Ma Zhi, plus her nemesis Chen Ping’an, for the first time since her imprisonment.

If the female ghost wasn’t already dead, she would probably have scattered her soul again.

Finally, with the help of Mistress Osmanthus, the “pseudo-sage” of Osmanthus Island, the skeletal ghost made a vow of her soul, pledging allegiance to Chen Ping’an for sixty years. In return, she could walk out of the talisman, where her soul would gradually dissipate without spiritual energy, and “live in” the Scholar Tree Sword Box.

This was because old Scholar Trees had always been known as “Scholar Tree Residences,” favored not only by plant spirits, especially those over a thousand years old, but also by Yin creatures and ghosts.

Previously, during a starry night near the Upside-Down Mountain, the old ferryman suddenly found Chen Ping’an and took him to the ferry at the foot of Osmanthus Island. When Chen Ping’an arrived, he discovered a young Flood Dragon clinging to the ferry, its head resting on the shore, most of its body submerged in the sea. The look in its eyes as it gazed at Chen Ping’an was full of youthful curiosity and gratitude.
The old boatman squatted by the shore, clicking his tongue in wonder. “This pitiful little thing, it looks to be only six or seven years old, if it were a human child. Mistress Gui didn’t wish to harm this innocent creature, so she only kept the Dragon King’s Basket and released it. But it seemed to be without a home, quickly catching up with Cinnamon Flower Island. Yet it didn’t dare approach too closely, whimpering all night, circling the island. Now that we’re getting closer and closer to Upside-down Mountain, the little fellow probably knows it will surely die if it goes any further. Even during the day, its cries are louder. If Mistress Gui hadn’t taken pity on it and helped conceal its aura, I fear those resentful cultivators on the mountain would have already flayed it and drawn out its tendons.”

The old boatman chuckled at the end, “Chen Ping’an, it seems to have come specifically for you. I just don’t know if it’s to repay a kindness or seek revenge. Although it’s still young, the dragon race is naturally cold-blooded and cunning. Hard to say.”

Chen Ping’an said nothing, taking out an ordinary snake gallstone and tossing it to the young Jiao dragon. It swallowed it whole on instinct, its eyes seeming a little dazed afterward.

Chen Ping’an waved his hand, signaling it to return.

The young Jiao dragon twisted back into the sea, but still whimpered softly, unwilling to leave the Cinnamon Flower Island waters. Chen Ping’an thought for a moment and threw a large handful of ordinary snake gallstones into the sea.

The young Jiao dragon thrashed wildly, stirring up huge waves as it devoured those delicacies that were like the finest of human fare.

Finally, Chen Ping’an stood at the ferry, telling it, “Cultivate diligently from now on. You have received my kindness today. If you like to harm people like that old Jiao dragon, I’ll beat you to death with one punch.”

The young Jiao dragon swam back to the ferry, its head towering over the shore, eyes wide, as if trying to memorize Chen Ping’an’s face.

After a moment, it arched backward and returned to the sea.

The old boatman, who had seen his share of storms, sighed, “You have a kind heart, forging a good connection, but the world is unpredictable. Good karma doesn’t always bear good fruit.”

Chen Ping’an’s gaze was indifferent as he looked out at the starlight shimmering like gold and silver on the sea’s surface, softly saying, “If it becomes a karmic entanglement of misfortune, I’ll cut it down with a single sword strike.”

The old boatman was thinking about his master, who would disappear again for hundreds of years, and the gold scroll left behind by a celestial that Chen Ping’an had given him. He didn’t pay much attention to Chen Ping’an’s expression and words.

Great Sui Cliff Academy.

Those fellow students and sect members who had left the Great Li border back then were destined to never have the chance to be together again after arriving at this Eastern Mountain.

Li Huai had already made two new friends, a timid son of a high-ranking official from the capital and a bold and unruly commoner. Both were slightly older than Li Huai, and the three of them spent their days playing together, having a great time.

Lin Shouyi, now devoted to cultivation, devoured books, wandering between the library, study halls, and lecture halls, standing out from the crowd.

Yu Lu and the Great Sui imperial prince, Gao Xuan, were close, becoming good friends. Gao Xuan increasingly liked coming to the academy to fish with Yu Lu.

Xie Xie, besides attending lectures with the instructors, lived a secluded life, willingly serving as a maid for Cui Dongshan.

After Li Baoping read the letter that her little martial uncle had sent last time, she seemed somewhat lost for a long time afterward.

One day, she skipped class again, nimble and swift like a little wildcat, quickly climbing to the top of the Eastern Mountain’s large tree, sitting on a branch, her back against the trunk. She still wore the self-made wooden plaque engraved with “Martial Arts Alliance Leader” around her neck. Later, she felt it wasn’t imposing enough, so she added “Commanding Heroes.” After that, she couldn’t stop, filling the small wooden plaque with heroic declarations full of the spirit of the martial world, all copied from the legends, such as “Regret that there is no match in this lifetime.”

A handsome young man in white robes stood on a nearby branch, his figure swaying slightly with the branch, asking with a smile, “What’s wrong? Feeling gloomy?”

After summer arrived, the little girl had changed from her red cotton-padded jacket to a thin red shirt. She said sullenly, “Not angry.”

Cui Dongshan asked, “Do you feel like Li Huai, Lin Shouyi, and the others are drifting away from you?”

The little girl said crossly, “It doesn’t matter if they drift away from me. I didn’t like paying attention to them in the town’s school anyway.”

Cui Dongshan smiled knowingly, “Then you’re feeling indignant for my master?”

The little girl had a straightforward personality, nodding generously in admission, “Yes.”

Cui Dongshan clasped his hands behind his head, sighing, “People will grow up. After growing up, they’ll pick up some new things and throw away some old things. Just picking up and throwing away like that, with a whoosh, they’ll be old.”

The little girl said angrily, “Would my little martial uncles be willing to throw them away too?!”

Cui Dongshan turned to look at the indignant little girl, smiling, “What’s there to be willing or unwilling about? Besides, even if my master knew about this, he wouldn’t be angry. Why are you getting upset? There’s no need.”

The little girl crossed her arms, puffing out her cheeks in annoyance.

Cui Dongshan turned back, looking towards the Great Sui capital, “You might meet a very good friend in the future, growing up together and sharing secrets. Then one day she’ll get married and love her husband even more. You might encounter a better teacher than Qi Jingchun, and then one day you’ll think that Qi Jingchun’s knowledge isn’t the greatest. You might meet… a good young man in the future, even better than your little martial uncle. Then you’ll find that the worries and sadness you have now are just like this. When the time comes, you’ll drink a sip or two of wine, and it will all go down with it…”

Cui Dongshan suddenly turned his head, surprised, “Little Baoping, you didn’t refute me! If you don’t say anything, I’ll run out of things to say!”

The little girl wrinkled her pretty little face, “I’m busy being sad!”

Cui Dongshan laughed heartily, leaning back and falling over, just barely lying sideways on the slender branch. He supported his head with one hand, gazing at the little girl in the red cotton-padded jacket.

There will probably come a day when the little girl will grow taller and taller, her round little face will become thinner, her chin will be pointed, her eyes will still be so moist, clean and spirited. She will still wear red clothes, ride horses on the edges of the martial world, and drink wine among the mountains and rivers. She will probably encounter happy things and sad people, right?

Cui Dongshan sighed.

He was a little worried.

If such a good girl falls in love with his master one day, it would be very troubling.

But if one day, she doesn’t like his master the most anymore, it seems that it would be even more regrettable.

Cui Dongshan turned over, closing his eyes to sleep, crossing his legs.
As for those chance encounters and the dispersion of hearts, even though Cui Dongshan now only possesses the appearance of a youth, the trials and tribulations he has experienced have accumulated in his heart, no less than the Great Li National Preceptor, Cui Chan.

He kept a certain sentiment unspoken to the young girl.

He, Cui Dongshan, and that old Cui Chan, along with Zuo You, Mao Xiaodong, and even Qi Jingchun, all grew up under the sheltering boughs of the Old Scholar’s immense influence. But in the end, everyone yearned to step out from that vast shade. Those who succeeded fared well, but those who remained trapped saw their hearts slowly change.

Not far away, the red-clad little girl put away the wooden tablet and carefully took out a painting from her bosom. In it, a young man stood beneath a cassia tree, smiling at her.

The little girl’s worries vanished instantly, and she beamed, cheerfully saying, “My Little Martial Uncle, who has learned to drink, is so handsome! When I’m older, I must have him take me on adventures in the Jianghu!”

The more she thought about it, the more excited she became, turning to ask loudly, “Cui Dongshan, is drinking difficult?”

Cui Dongshan decisively refused, “You cannot drink!”

Li Baoping retorted angrily, “Why not?!”

Cui Dongshan said with a resentful tone, “The Master wouldn’t scold you even a little, but he would beat me to death!”

Li Baoping sighed, shaking her head, and said with pity, “So pitiful.”

Cui Dongshan glanced at the smiling little girl, “Little Baoping, please, when you comfort people in the future, put away that gloating grin.”

Li Baoping made a gesture of holding a seal and stamping it.

Cui Dongshan lamented, muttering, “No good deed goes unpunished.”

Between the Upside-Down Mountain and the sea, hung “river channels” of water and cloud, allowing all ferries to ascend the mountain. Many ferries that could ride the wind still needed to descend to the sea before approaching the Upside-Down Mountain.

The Cassia Flower Isle docked briefly at a ferry landing at the bottom of a river channel, symbolically presenting a sort of pass like a Crimson Writ, but without paying the exorbitant toll. Then, it began to ascend the inclined river channel toward the Upside-Down Mountain.

The Upside-Down Mountain spanned a hundred li in circumference, a solitary peak in the human realm, a truly vast territory.

A high-ranking Daoist priest with the appearance of a middle-aged man stood on a cliff edge. Behind him stood an emaciated old Daoist with an immortal air, holding a horsetail whisk. Each strand of the whisk, gold and silver, was made from the whiskers of a Jiaolong dragon. The old Daoist softly asked, “Master, should this disciple go teach a lesson to the Rotten Cassia Flower Isle?”

The high-ranking Daoist priest laughed, “Accept defeat gracefully. There’s nothing shameful about it. You’re not your grandmaster, who has never lost in his entire life.”

As the Grand Heavenly Lord of the Upside-Down Mountain spoke.

In the Azure Billow Heaven.

A Daoist priest was punched out of the Heaven Beyond Heaven, plunging into the human realm within the Azure Billow Heaven.