Chen Ping’an, not waiting for Ning Yao to finish speaking, hastily interrupted, “Ning-guniang, please wait a moment.” Then, turning his head away, he secretly took a swig from his gourd, the one used to nourish his sword.

Ning Yao was utterly bewildered.

Could it be that this fellow had done something to wrong her? Like racking up a mountain of debt on the journey from the Li Zhu Grotto-Heaven to Upside-Down Mountain, all charged to her, Ning Yao’s, account?

Or perhaps he’d long ago discarded that Earth-Shaking Fist manual, feeling that practicing the fist after a few thousand repetitions was beneath him, so he now carried a sword box, starting to learn the sword, ultimately becoming mediocre at both fist and sword?

Or maybe Chen Ping’an, venturing into the world, had the fool’s fortune, surrounded by a circle of simple-minded, lovelorn beauties, now waiting for him at an inn?

Ning Yao’s thoughts ran wild, north and south, east and west.

The only thing she hadn’t considered was whether Chen Ping’an had lost the sword forged by Ruan Qiong.

How could that be? Through countless mountains and rivers, seasons of spring, summer, autumn, and winter, he would surely deliver the sword.

Having finished the wine, Chen Ping’an suddenly stood up and walked down the steps, facing Ning Yao. Behind her stood a Pavilion of Revered Swords, seemingly embodying the ten thousand years of spirit of the Sword Qi Great Wall, with the dogwood and bamboo adding to the scene. Chen Ping’an had squatted by the wall then, pondering many chaotic thoughts, such as the poetic lines recorded in books, including “wearing dogwood, one man less,” “sitting alone in the bamboo grove,” A-Liang and that word “fierce,” the more historically ancient inscriptions at Thunder Pond, even imagining the scene of their first reunion, which was definitely not sitting foolishly on the steps of Upside-Down Mountain and then seeing her.

Ning Yao sat leisurely on the steps, leaning back, her elbow resting lazily on the higher steps. She squinted, her slender eyebrows appearing even more refined and captivating.

Seeing this, Chen Ping’an couldn’t utter a single word, turning his head and taking another sip of wine.

Just as Chen Ping’an was about to speak, Ning Yao suddenly raised an eyebrow, sat upright, and asked, “Chen Ping’an, when did you become a drunkard?!”

Those words, mustered with great difficulty, as if climbing a mountain, were frightened back into his stomach, plummeting to their deaths, shattered into pieces.

Chen Ping’an sighed, squatting on the ground, silent, scratching his head with both hands.

Ning Yao stood up and smiled, “Chen Ping’an, you seem to have grown taller?”

Chen Ping’an suddenly rose, gesturing for Ning Yao not to come down the steps, “Ning-guniang, let me finish what I have to say!”

The young man raised his head high, puffed out his chest, gripped the wine gourd tightly, and gazed at the maiden in the ink-green robe.

Ning Yao blinked, seemingly unable to guess what Chen Ping’an was up to.

Chen Ping’an said, “Ning-guniang…”

He quickly shook his head, changing his address, “Ning Yao, I like you.”

Ning Yao sat back on the steps, “Say it louder if you dare.”

Chen Ping’an then cleared his throat and shouted, “Ning Yao! I like you!”

Ning Yao asked, “Who are you?”

Chen Ping’an smiled brightly, no longer reserved, declaring with heroic spirit, “Chen Ping’an of Longquan County, Great Li!”

Although Chen Ping’an also knew that after giving the sword to Ning-guniang, spending more time together, preferably witnessing her native land and her friends at the Sword Qi Great Wall, deciding whether to confess would be the most prudent course. The worst outcome would be that Ning Yao didn’t like him, but they might still be able to be friends.

But Chen Ping’an was unwilling to do that.

Ning Yao stood up again, her expression strange, asking Chen Ping’an, “Is liking someone such a big deal?”

Chen Ping’an was completely baffled, not knowing how to answer.

Do all maidens in the world ask such a question after being confessed to?

Chen Ping’an couldn’t help but feel a little resentful towards Sword Saint Song of Flowing Comb Country and the master of the old boatman of Osmanthus Island, one with an unlucky mouth, the other unwilling to impart any experience of the Jianghu.

Ning Yao took a step down the stairs, arriving in front of Chen Ping’an, extending a hand, “Give it to me.”

Chen Ping’an nodded, untied the knot, removed the wooden box from his back, drew out the long sword forged by the Saint Ruan Qiong, and handed it to the maiden before him.

After receiving the sword, Ning Yao didn’t draw it to examine its sharpness, but hung it on her right side at her waist. She walked straight ahead, brushing past Chen Ping’an.

As Chen Ping’an suddenly turned to look, he only saw her raise an arm, waving farewell.

Chen Ping’an’s lips moved slightly, but he couldn’t say anything, because all his strength and courage had been used on that one sentence before.

He was reluctant to turn his head for a long time, unwilling to withdraw his gaze.

She walked further and further away, her figure gradually disappearing into the night.

Chen Ping’an turned around, walked towards the spot where he had been sitting on the steps, and began to mutter, saying the words that hadn’t had the chance to be spoken.

Ning-guniang, how have you been lately?

Ning-guniang, on this trip, I’ve seen many interesting things, shall I tell you about them?

Ning-guniang, you won’t believe it, I promised you to practice the fist one million times, and now I’m only two thousand punches away.

Ning-guniang, do you know that when you smiled back at the ancestral home in Mud Bottle Alley, I felt like the richest man in the world.

Ning Yao, I met A-Liang, but Mister Qi is gone.

Ning Yao, I’ve been to Huang Ting Country, Da Sui, Rainbow Garment Country, Flowing Comb Country, Old Dragon City, I’ve been to many places. I’ve seen many girls, but none of them are as beautiful as you.

Ning-guniang, you asked me if I liked you before, and I said no, and you didn’t seem unhappy, but now that I like you so much, you don’t seem very happy. I’m sorry.

Ning-guniang, I’m very happy to have met you.

At the foot of Lonely Peak Mountain, on the white jade plaza, the little Daoist priest wearing a fish-tail crown continued to sit on the futon, reading a book. These days were important fasting days in the Azure Sky World. Upside-Down Mountain had never considered itself a part of the Great Vast World, so this gate leading to the Sword Qi Great Wall would only reopen after the Zi hour on the day after tomorrow. Otherwise, this would be one of the liveliest areas of Upside-Down Mountain.

Because this place only allowed people to pass, not goods.

The true transfer hub was within the belly of Upside-Down Mountain.

The nearby eight ferries, including Catch-and-Release Pavilion and Fragrant Tower, each had a sloping road leading down into the mountain’s belly. Earlier, the two senior and junior disciples had argued over whether it was necessary to carve through the mountain wall and build a new major ferry inside the mountain’s belly, and whether to ask for instructions from the Honorable Teacher of the Azure Sky World. The Great Heavenly Lord of Upside-Down Mountain believed that it was the trend, and why should Upside-Down Mountain give up so much incense money?
Besides being a mere gatekeeper, his true identity was that of the Second Seat’s Daoist acolyte in Upside-Down Mountain. He believed that any groundbreaking work on Upside-Down Mountain, even the slightest touch involving the Mountain Seal’s essence, was an act of profound disrespect towards their revered Master.

Back then, the two argued fiercely, unable to reach a consensus, even resorting to blows. Afterwards, they each lit three incense sticks in the Incense Offering Pavilion, startling their Sect Leader, who resided year-round in the Celestial Realm. The Sect Leader first returned to the White Jade Capital in the Azure Heaven and then personally issued an edict, finally calming the two disciples. However, after that, the Daoist acolyte, who originally held great power and was almost equal to his senior brother, the Great Heavenly Lord, in a fit of pique, ceased handling any matters of Upside-Down Mountain. He relinquished everything to the Great Heavenly Lord and confined himself to this single prayer mat.

The sword-bearing man, perched on the hitching post, was sound asleep throughout the day, but became remarkably alert at night. His eyes shone brightly like the radiant moon, his face filled with amusement as he looked around, as if waiting for someone.

After waiting and waiting, without the person he expected appearing, he grew impatient. He leaped down from the hitching post, bypassed the mirror-like gate, and squatted beside the Daoist acolyte, the only sound the slow turning of pages.

The Daoist acolyte had been in a foul mood lately. Although he was a Daoist of the Great Heavenly Lord’s lineage, he was close to the Third Sect Leader, Lu Chen, and the very sight of that effeminate Lu made him irritable. The sissy’s tone was so haughty, adding to his vexation. His senior brother, the Great Heavenly Lord, had lost a fight, which only deepened his frustration.

Why were there so many troubles in the world?

Before he was tricked by the Little Sect Leader Lu Chen into coming to Upside-Down Mountain in this world, when he was still in the White Jade Capital, he didn’t have so many worries. He would accompany Sect Leader Lu on strolls along the railing of the top floor, eagerly awaiting their Master’s return from the Celestial Realm for respite. Occasionally, if he was lucky, he would even encounter the Dao Ancestor, a rare sight. The Dao Ancestor was a busy man, rarely appearing in the White Jade Capital, either wandering in unknown secret realms, helping to stabilize the qi and create paradises suitable for cultivation, or observing the Dao in the Small Lotus Grotto Heaven. Of course, the Dao Ancestor no longer needed to comprehend the Dao. According to his Master, “observing the Dao” was merely observing the trivial paths of others.

The Daoist acolyte couldn’t bear the presence of the sword-bearing man beside him. “In the end, isn’t she just a little girl? What’s so interesting about her?”

The sword-bearing man smiled. “You wouldn’t understand. I’m a condemned man, punished here, it’s rare to have a little interest.”

The Daoist acolyte closed his book and grinned. “Oh, just across the gate, residing in the Vast and Mighty World, yet possessing a Grand Sword Immortal in the Immortal Realm. A little interest? How little?”

The middle-aged man shook his head and sighed. “Chatting with someone like you is just pointless.”

The man added, “The pair next door are more compatible. They’ve already started small stakes gambling.”

The Daoist acolyte finally showed some interest. “Gambling on what?”

The sword-bearing man tentatively asked, “Can I borrow half your prayer mat to sit on?”

The Daoist acolyte didn’t budge, sneering, “What do you think?”

The man dropped the subject and continued, “Old Yao next door is betting with that saber-wielding Daoist nun on whether the little girl will return to the Great Wall of Sword Qi before dawn alone, or with someone else.”

The Daoist acolyte asked, “Can’t she just not return at all?”

The sword-bearing man shook his head, looking into the distance. “She will definitely return to the Great Wall of Sword Qi.”

The Daoist acolyte asked, “Because of the glory of the Ning and Yao surnames?”

The man sighed, his expression complex.

The Daoist acolyte’s eyes lit up. With a wave of his sleeve, he silently chanted two names in the Eastern Treasure Continent’s accent, and two azure talismans, drawn casually, vanished in a flash.

The sword-bearing man flicked his finger, shattering the two wisps of talismans, even more ethereal than green smoke. He said grumpily, “Do not look at what is improper, do not listen to what is improper.”

The two talismans were a Heaven and Earth Echo Talisman and a Gentle Breeze Brushing Face Talisman. The former could roam quickly through the heavens and earth. Whenever conversations in a certain area involved the words chanted by the talisman’s creator, the talisman would activate and quietly record the dialogue. The latter, the Brushing Face Talisman, could find the person depicted in the talisman and transmit images back.

Both were of high quality, extremely difficult to draw, but considered useless in the Daoist talisman lineage on the mountain. This was because, whether it was the Echo Talisman or the Brushing Face Talisman, they would rapidly deplete their spiritual energy in places with magical restrictions or dense baleful aura, such as grand residences guarded by door gods, Confucius and Martial Temples, City God Pavilions, or mass burial grounds.

Even if the talisman paper was good, the backlash would be significant. The commotion would be too great, and if detected by cultivators, it would naturally be seen as a provocation, easily leading to the talisman’s creator being found and ultimately causing disputes.

Therefore, the two talismans were only suitable for reconnaissance in lawless lands.

However, the Daoist acolyte, operating the two talismans within his own territory of Upside-Down Mountain, naturally faced no such issues.

Unfortunately, they were shattered with a flick of a finger by that Sword Immortal of Upside-Down Mountain.

The sword-bearing man asked, “Wanna bet?”

The Daoist acolyte, disinterested, shook his head. “No bet. You’re a terrible gambler, with a reputation for poor gambling manners that ranks in the top three in Upside-Down Mountain. If I bet with you and lose, I’ll definitely give you something, but if I win, I definitely won’t get anything. Why would I bet? No bet.”

The man was despondent. “I guess I have no hope in this life. I can’t even be the best gambler.”

The Daoist acolyte thought of something interesting and laughed heartily. “You’re lucky. Look at those two broken swords in the Sword Reverence Pavilion, then look back at yourself. Anyone passing through here, whether from the Great Wall of Sword Qi or the Vast and Mighty World, treats you with utmost respect. In their eyes, even a fart from you, the living Grand Sword Immortal, smells sweet.”

The sword-bearing man wasn’t angry, mocking himself, “So, I shouldn’t complain about guarding the gate here.”

The Daoist acolyte put down his book, clasped his hands behind his head, and looked up at the sky.

The man murmured, “For commoners, after a hundred years away from home, their hometown would probably have become their old home. For Qi refiners, a thousand years would count, but what about us, these exiled criminals who’ve been around for over ten thousand years?”

The Daoist acolyte did not answer.

He couldn’t.

The night was deep in Upside-Down Mountain, while on the other side of the gate, the sun was high in the sky.

Similarly, two people guarded the gate, one each from the Great Wall of Sword Qi and Upside-Down Mountain.

An old sword cultivator in gray was openly tempering his natal flying sword, while next to him stood a middle-aged Daoist nun with a Dharma saber at her waist.
The Daoist nun frowned, “Ning girl went to Upside-down Mountain without permission, which is against the rules. When the Great Heavenly Sovereign questions it, I will tell the truth.”

The old sword cultivator nodded, “Just tell the truth, I will bear the responsibility.”

A group of young men and women walked from afar, all of them the darlings of the Great Wall of Swords.

Although almost everyone came from prominent families and could be called the pride of heaven, in this recent war, in less than three years, this group of children had already gone to war three times, and two friends were gone. One, nicknamed Little Cricket, died in battle on the battlefield south of the city wall. One completed his experience and returned to the Confucian Academy.

A handsome young man, wearing two long swords, one with a sheath, named Jing Shu (Classic Book), and one without a sheath, named Yun Wen (Cloud Pattern).

A fat young man, born with a smiling face, but with the heaviest killing intent, wore a sword named Zi Dian (Purple Lightning) around his waist.

A one-armed girl carried a large sword named Zhen Yue (Suppress Mountain) that did not fit her.

A dark-skinned young man with an ugly face and full of scars wore a sword named Hong Zhuang (Red Makeup).

The old sword cultivator didn’t have a good look on his face when he saw these brats and continued to refine his sword.

On the other hand, the Daoist nun Shi Dao, who had nothing to do with the major families of the Great Wall of Swords, smiled sincerely and greeted the children.

To say that these guys are children is only in terms of their height and age. In fact, their bright future and the height of their future achievements are almost visible to the entire Great Wall of Swords. Especially when they walked on the city wall and then went down the city wall to the southern battlefield, and personally experienced battles, they had actually won enough respect.

At the Great Wall of Swords, no matter what your surname is, you need to go to the battlefield.

Of course, there will also be some differences. It lies in the cultivation realm of the sword masters who protect the formation. Young sword cultivators from poor families can only honestly accept the sword masters arranged by the Great Wall of Swords, while the children of those large families will definitely have powerful retainers secretly following them when they go to war early, mostly those who have no tasks for the time being. However, unless they are in a desperate situation, these people will not easily help.

North of the Great Wall of Swords, this piece of land is permeated with sword energy passed down from generation to generation since ancient times.

To the south, it is permeated with the blood of generations of ancestors.

These people have different personalities. The fat man pestered the Daoist nun Shi Dao, imitating someone and saying vulgar jokes, but was called a fool by the Upside-down Mountain Daoist nun. The one-armed girl stared at the old sword cultivator’s sword refining technique. The handsome young man looked displeased, and the dark-skinned young man looked blankly at the gate. He heard that it was another world just a short distance away, and there was only one sun and moon over there, and the scenery was beautiful. The young man couldn’t imagine what beautiful scenery was.

The handsome young man kept patting the hilt of his sword with his palms, looking impatient, and complained, “If I see that guy, I’m afraid I won’t be able to help but cut him with my sword. You must stop me then.”

The fat man chuckled, “Stop what? Kill him, and then you’ll be chopped into minced meat by Ning Yao. It’ll be a double win to have two annoying guys gone at once. Don’t worry, I’ll keep Jing Shu and Yun Wen safe for you.”

After joking, the fat young man said helplessly, “Ning Yao doesn’t want to say much about that guy, just those few original words repeated over and over again: a fool from Lizhu Cave, a good-for-nothing, a money grubber… I think, if I had to choose, the bookworm from the academy is more likable. At least he fought alongside us many times and even saved Dong Heitan (Black Charcoal) once, barely good enough for Ning Yao.”

The ugly young man glared at the chubby boy.

The latter was not afraid at all and winked back.

The handsome young man asked, “Could we be thinking too much? With Ning Yao’s temperament, who could she possibly like in this life?”

The one-armed girl thought seriously and concluded with few words, “Difficult!”

In the second half of the night at Upside-down Mountain, a heroic girl in a dark green robe with two swords hanging from her waist appeared near the foot of Lonely Peak. She didn’t even look at the sword-holding man and the little Daoist boy, and walked straight into the mirror.

In an instant, she walked out of the mirror again. The sun was shining brightly. She raised her head and squinted subconsciously.

Inside and outside the gate, the sword-holding man and the little Daoist boy with the fish crown, the gray-clothed old sword cultivator and the Daoist nun Shi Dao, looked at each other tacitly.

As for those of her age, her friends who were full of admiration and respect for her, one by one, breathed a sigh of relief, feeling that only with Ning Yao alone returning to the Great Wall of Swords, the weather today was really good.

Walking, walking, the charcoal-like Dong boy turned his head and said, “Sister Ning?”

Ning Yao hummed, quickened her pace, and caught up with them.

Then she passed them.

The four people who were laughing and talking became silent.

Outside the Jing Jian Pavilion (Respect Sword Pavilion) on Upside-down Mountain, Chen Pingan stood up and planned to return to the Guanque Inn (Stork Pavilion Inn).

Just after he stood up, he found a middle-aged couple walking from afar, dressed plainly, with ordinary appearances, and smiling faces. They just glanced at him and looked at the Jing Jian Pavilion behind him.

Chen Pingan lowered his head and fastened the wine gourd that he had never actually drunk from, and was about to leave.

The woman smiled softly, “This is our first time visiting Jing Jian Pavilion. We heard it’s very big. Are there any rules or sayings?”

Chen Pingan stopped, thought for a moment, and nodded, “How about I take you around?”

The man and woman looked at each other and smiled, then nodded, “Okay.”