## The Tale of Two Hearts in Upside-Down Mountain

I offer a humble bow to all who lend their eyes to these words. The scrolls detailing Master Jianlai’s latest tale bear a curious enchantment. Twenty-one thousand five hundred souls have deemed it worthy, yet only twenty thousand have paid the toll for passage to its end. A mere five hundred more joined their ranks within the span of a day and night. Verily, I thank thee for thy affections towards Jianlai’s craft.

Chen Ping’an, lost and addled, found himself adrift in Upside-Down Mountain. No towering trees offered a vista, only the oppressive weight of high walls and closed doors. He dared not trespass upon their surfaces. The dawn streets were devoid of familiar faces, none who knew of his dealings with Dongbao Ping Zhou Yayan. The worry that would surely gnaw at Jin Su of the Stork Inn, should he believe Chen Ping’an lost to the night, tugged at his thoughts. On Osmanthus Island, such a predicament would have filled him with disquiet. Yet here, in this labyrinth of stone, he felt a strange sense of peace, allowing his gaze to linger on whatever fleeting beauty he could find.

He clung to the wisdom of the ages: one should never burden others unless truly needed. Even then, a touch of guilt was unnecessary.

And then, as he walked, he beheld her.

Ning Yao, garbed in a robe of deep green, stood at the far end of the street, moving towards him with slow grace. If his memory served him true, it was the very garment he had procured for her in Lizhu Cave Heaven. It graced her form with exquisite precision.

With a quickened pace, Chen Ping’an met her, words tumbling from his lips, “What a fortunate coincidence!”

Ning Yao, a flicker of a smile gracing her lips, paused and stood firm, offering no reply.

Chen Ping’an, his voice lowered, continued, “I was pondering a venture to Overlord Mountain, and whether to acquire some trinkets at Lingzhizhai, perhaps to present alongside the sword forged by Master Ruan…”

Ning Yao’s brow furrowed, her voice tinged with exasperation, “What treasures could possibly reside in Lingzhizhai? At best, a Ruyi Lingzhi or a sword gourd, neither of which I require. Besides, Lingzhizhai guards its wares jealously. You shall find them unavailable, even to you.”

A crestfallen “oh” escaped Chen Ping’an, and he scratched his head, regret settling upon him.

Ning Yao hesitated, a battle raging within her. She spoke again, as if compelled, “There is no hidden meaning in my words. Do not dwell upon them.”

A smile bloomed on Chen Ping’an’s face. “I shall not. My mind is presently a mire, and contemplation brings only aches.”

“Does my presence exacerbate the pain?” Ning Yao inquired.

“It eases it considerably,” Chen Ping’an replied hastily.

“Where do you reside?” Ning Yao pressed. “Do you merely wander, awaiting an opportunity to play the hero and rescue a damsel in distress?”

Chen Ping’an sighed. “Last night, I partook of the Wangyou wine at Huangliang Blessing. Upon exiting the establishment, I found myself utterly lost.”

They walked together, companions in this strange place. “How did you manage to afford such a draught?” Ning Yao wondered.

Chen Ping’an lowered his voice once more. “A couple offered their hospitality. A strange pair, indeed. They claimed to have only just arrived from the Great Wall of Sword Qi, though I saw them upon its ramparts not long ago. They spoke knowledgeably of many senior sword immortals. Is it simpler to leave the Great Wall when one is upended, yet difficult when right-side up? Regardless, I believe them to be benevolent souls. Should the opportunity arise, I shall return their kindness.”

Ning Yao offered a vague nod.

They traversed a silent alley, high walls adorned with vines flanking their path. Ning Yao remained quiet.

Chen Ping’an broke the silence. “Miss Ning, in the flurry of our last parting, I neglected to ask… do you harbor ill will towards me?”

“No,” she responded frankly.

Chen Ping’an halted, his hand instinctively reaching for his wine gourd before swiftly retreating. His gaze met hers. “Miss Ning, do you… do you hold affection for me?”

Ning Yao remained silent.

Recalling her actions in Nipin Lane, Chen Ping’an extended two fingers, leaving only a sliver of space between them. “Perhaps… perhaps just this much?”

Instead of answering, Ning Yao countered with a question of her own. “Why do you hold affection for me?”

Chen Ping’an turned his head, drew his sword gourd, took a hasty sip of wine, and wiped his mouth. Then, with a radiant smile, he began, “Let me tell you, slowly. Whatever your reaction, you must listen to me without interruption. I fear that a single word might forever silence me. Miss Ning, you are of surpassing beauty. Before I met you, I had not beheld your equal in Lizhu Cave Heaven. Later, when I recovered in Nipin Lane, you did not scorn my humble origins. You taught me to read, patiently explaining the Shanshan Fist Guide. I first practiced boxing, and ended up in this Upside-Down world.

“Upon the other side of the bridge, you lent me your skirt-pressing knife. We fought together, standing shoulder to shoulder against the Zhengyang Mountain Moving Ape. Death danced close, yet we prevailed. In the immortal’s grave, I nearly brought Ma Kuxuan to his end. We journeyed westward, aiding the Chen woman of Posa Forum in her search for the regular tree. You were angered once, insisting upon brewing your own medicine, only to scorch it. I found it endearing. You spoke of how the Great Way should not be so small. I did not comprehend then, but after my long journey, I believe I do now. When you advised me against villainy and the path of a Shancai boy, I was greatly heartened. You left Lizhu Cave Heaven, stepping away from those celestial beings, yet returned, sword in hand, to bid me farewell. After you departed, I ate candied haws alone. What does that feel like? Mr. Qi left, and I guided Xiaobaoping and the others to Dasui. When I beheld the beautiful mountains, I saw Miss Ning’s eyebrows. When I gazed upon the beautiful waters, I saw Miss Ning’s eyes. Even the beautiful girls… they reminded me of Miss Ning. And suddenly, the girls seemed less fair.”

The floodgates opened, Chen Ping’an’s voice growing raspy, his face flushed. The sword gourd in his hand felt as heavy as a mountain.

Yet Chen Ping’an did not regret his outpouring.

His voice trembling, he concluded, “Miss Ning, my affection for you is my burden. It matters not if you do not reciprocate.”

Ning Yao leaned against the wall, the vines paling in comparison to her presence.

“If I do not hold affection for you,” she asked, “would you then seek the affections of another? Perhaps… perhaps Ruan Xiu?”

Chen Ping’an looked at her, recognizing that he held affection for a truly remarkable woman, one who did not appear to reciprocate. It was a poignant realization, yet he felt little sadness. “If I were to seek the affections of another, I would never seek your presence again. As long as I seek you, I will not turn my gaze to another, even if worlds lie between us.”

Ning Yao rolled her eyes. “Am I truly so unreasonable?”

Chen Ping’an was taken aback.

Then, she changed her mind. “Yes, I am! Who made me fall for such a fool?”

A sudden laugh escaped her, filled with youthful pride. Her eyebrows, lively and charming, framed her face. She crossed her arms. “Who burdened me with such a fool as you?”

Taking two steps forward, she embraced the young man from Dali and murmured, “Chen Ping’an! I hold affection for you, no less than you hold for me!”

Upon their reunion, she had intended to say the opposite.

*I do not hold affection for you.*

But those words proved too difficult to utter.

Releasing him, her eyes, slightly reddened, revealed a rare glimpse of annoyance and shame. “Why are you so dense?!”

Chen Ping’an stammered, “How can it be that you truly care for me…”

His reaction mirrored Liu Baqiao’s, Fenglei Garden.

When one holds affection for a girl, one believes she will never reciprocate, accepting it without resentment.

Ning Yao finally regained some composure, her eyes flashing like the sharpest flying sword in the world. “Do I, Ning Yao, need a reason to choose whom I love?!”

In truth, there were many reasons, yet she was too shy to reveal them, unlike the shameless Chen Ping’an.

A wave of elation washed over Chen Ping’an, and he embraced Ning Yao once more.

Ning Yao’s face flushed, and her lips curled slightly. Instead of resisting, she quietly raised a hand and gently clutched at his clothes.

In the alleyways of Upside-Down Mountain, the boy and girl embraced in silence.

The world seemed to awaken in that moment.

Ning Yao was Ning Yao, Chen Ping’an was Chen Ping’an. This shyness and fear would not rule them forever.

Breaking the embrace, Ning Yao led the way, declaring her intention to finish the remaining jar of yellow wine. She guided Chen Ping’an to an ancient locust tree, raising her hand and bending her fingers as if knocking on an invisible door.

Ripples appeared before them, and a wine shop materialized. Ning Yao crossed the threshold, with Chen Ping’an close behind.

Xu Jia, the shop clerk, greeted Ning Yao with enthusiasm. “Miss Ning, you have returned! Shall I invite you to a drink?”

Ning Yao cast a fleeting glance at him, showing no recognition.

Disappointed, Xu Jia backed down.

He considered the girl before him to be second only to the eldest lady in the world. He had been deeply impressed upon their first encounter, years ago. The girl had arrived from the Great Wall of Jianqi, visiting Outouxuan Mountain for the first time. A fellow had brought her to the wine shop, imbibing two jars while she barely touched a single drop. Dressed in black, with a knife at her side, she did not yet carry two swords, nor did she wear the deep green robe. Her face was cold and stern. Even the old shopkeeper’s gaze was met with indifference. While Aliang drank, she walked to the high wall, gazing at it for a long time without speaking, then returning to her seat. Xu Jia found her to be uniquely dazzling, almost too much to bear.

Aliang, for that one time, was quiet and without smile, merely drinking. Xu Jia saw his helplessness. It seemed that the girl intended something extraordinary. Aliang drank heavily, lamenting that half his daughter had flown away.

When the girl insisted on leaving the wine shop alone, Aliang abstained from further drinking, morosely saying that half his daughter had flown away just like that.

Xu Jia glanced at the Dali boy named Chen Ping’an.

He felt this man was hardly worthy of Miss Ning.

A hundred Chen Ping’ans might not be her equal.

Chen Ping’an requested the remaining half-jar of Wangyou wine, enough to fill nearly two large white bowls, and poured half a bowl for each of them.

They sat shoulder-to-shoulder on a bench, with Ning Yao displaying no discomfort.

Xu Jia, hidden in the distance, watched in amazement.

Chen Ping’an took a sip of Wangyou wine.

He suddenly felt that the wine was far superior to the night before, and smiled at Ning Yao.

Ning Yao glared at him.

They drank in small sips, their words few.

Chen Ping’an suddenly asked, his voice tinged with misery, “Ning Yao, are you perhaps not real?”

An old man tending to a caged bird chuckled at the boy’s foolish question.

Ning Yao sighed.

*He is a fool, but I am even more foolish.*

*Who said that I would ever find a match who is just as stupid?*

Chen Ping’an placed his bowl and reached for the person beside him. Ning Yao merely watched, curious as to his intent.

Chen Ping’an pinched her cheek between his fingers and gently tugged.

Ning Yao remained still.

Chen Ping’an stretched out his other hand and pinched her other cheek.

Xu Jia, covered in cold sweat, believed the bold youth to be doomed.

Instead, Ning Yao swatted Chen Ping’an’s meddling hands and warned, “Chen Ping’an, if you are so careless, I may turn against you.”

Chen Ping’an withdrew his hand, disappointment on his face. “You feel real.”

Ning Yao took a large sip of wine. “You must already know that my parents have passed. Do you find me pitiful?”

Xu Jia felt that should the boy dare to agree, his fate would be sealed.

Without hesitation, Chen Ping’an replied, “Yes, it’s pitiful. Not having your parents is pitiful, how could it not be considered pitiful?”

As he spoke, Chen Ping’an’s lips tightened, and the corners of his mouth turned downward. The boy seemed to feel more aggrieved than she did.

He did not pity the girl, for he, too, lacked parents, and had never known them. It was merely that in his youth, he was unable to care for himself, forced to rely on the kindness of strangers for survival. It was a simple fact, otherwise he would not have survived.

Having grown up, he no longer needed pity. He could provide for himself, and even return the kindness shown to him in those early years. It was only then he allowed himself to feel sorry for her.

But when the words left his lips, Chen Ping’an could not control himself.

Ning Yao scoffed. “Who are you? I do not need your pity.”

Chen Ping’an blinked.

Ning Yao’s face reddened, and she stepped on Chen Ping’an’s foot beneath the table.

Xu Jia’s face was blank. He felt as though he had been stabbed repeatedly by the Great Sword Immortal.

Then, the two continued to drink and whisper.

Xu Jia felt each whispered word as another sword thrust.

*This is unbearable.*

He moved away from the wine shop, sitting on a small stool on the threshold, refusing to look.

He could not resist glancing back, seeing the girl’s long, narrow eyebrows. They no longer bore the sadness he had seen upon their first meeting, but were now playful and warm.

The sword to the heart, the Xin Kou, was like Aliang’s sword.

Later, he saw the young man with a smile on his face, his eyes filled with warmth, as if he were saying that his affection for Ning Yao had nothing to do with the myriad worlds, that he simply loved this girl. And Xu Jia, the outsider, realized that these two were indeed a perfect match.

This sword then pierced the heart of the house, of the old sword immortal atop the city, the legendary “Save the City” sword.

Xu Jia turned his head and cried out to the old shopkeeper, “When will the eldest lady return home? I miss her terribly!”

The old man replied, “Do you wish to die? Just be sure not to die in the wine shop.”

At that moment, Xu Jia leapt to his feet, greeting a new guest who knocked on the door with a jovial, “Welcome!”

An extremely handsome young man entered.

Xu Jia greeted him with a smile. “You have returned from the Great Wall of Sword Qi?”

The young man, clad in white and radiating warmth, slapped Xu Jia’s shoulder and spoke aloud to the old man, “Shopkeeper, the usual arrangement: a jar of wine, charged to my master.”

The old shopkeeper chuckled upon seeing the boy.

The old men could not help but love this radiant youth, “in the prime of his life.”

While one could still rely on their age to look down on this young man, one should cherish it, for such an opportunity would soon be gone.

Upon the wall, the young master had penned the unparalleled phrase, “Marriage can be higher.”

The handsome youth smiled at Xu Jia and said, “Xu Jia, I will add to it. Please fetch me a pen. Well, I wish to add words with my master.”

Xu Jia, his gloom banished, ran to fetch the wine and pen. As he ran, he turned his head and smiled. “Of course, wait a moment.”

As the handsome youth walked towards the wall, he kept stealing glances at Ning Yao, sitting beside Chen Ping’an.

Sadly, Ning Yao simply glanced at him before continuing her discussion with Chen Ping’an about the Great Wall of Sword Qi.

The handsome youth smiled, moved a stool to the high wall, and, in the style of the Daduan Dynasty’s female national teacher, penned five words with his brush: “It’s higher because of me.”

Chen Ping’an quietly averted his gaze and whispered, “Who is that? He seems very powerful.”

Ning Yao considered it seriously. “I forgot his name.”