The old Daoist vanished as abruptly as he had appeared.

He left Chen Pingan stranded by the edge of the pit, offering no instructions on how to leave this Lotus Blessed Land, nor when the Dao Observation would conclude. As for the ascension blessing, the ten candidates under heaven, the old Daoist made no mention.

However, the old Daoist’s unannounced departure, while leaving Chen Pingan with a monumental mess, was a great relief. It loosened the taut string of his heart, and he stumbled a few steps before finally collapsing backward, unable to hold on any longer.

Without the pure qi to prop him up, the injuries inflicted by Ding Ying’s Yin spirit sword, which had driven him deep into the earth, erupted completely. Chen Pingan felt as if he were lying in a pool of blood, constantly leaking.

But a smile quickly appeared in Chen Pingan’s eyes.

With Chu Yi and Shi Wu guarding him, Ding Ying was dead, and he was alone. Chen Pingan extravagantly squandered his last bit of strength, took down the Sword Nourishing Gourd, and trembling, put it to his lips, forcing down a mouthful of wine. When one is burdened with debt, one ceases to care. This bit of pain was nothing more than an itch. Chen Pingan simply felt that not drinking at this moment would be a waste.

Unbeknownst to Chen Pingan, on his golden Jinli Daoist robe, the originally snow-white, enormous pearl between the claws of the central golden dragon on his chest was now filled with dense lightning plasma. Moreover, the smaller pearls under the claws and jaws of the two smaller golden dragons on his shoulders also had wisps of lightning coiling around them.

However, the changes in the Jinli were insignificant compared to the earth-shattering transformations occurring within Chen Pingan’s body.

The most thorough rebirth.

His immersion in the thunder pool had given Chen Pingan’s bones a golden-jade luster, a sign of what cultivators called “golden branches and jade leaves.”

Deep roots and a firm foundation, the path to longevity and eternal vision.

Chen Pingan was in a daze, half-asleep and half-awake.

It was as if he were dreaming.

In his dream, someone pointed to a surging river, asking Chen Pingan if he wanted to cross it.

The person answered their own question, saying that if Chen Pingan wanted to cross the river without being bound by the Great Dao, he would need a bridge, and then he could naturally cross.

Chen Pingan didn’t know how to answer, and simply squatted by the river, scratching his head.

His true heart was there, undeniable.

The person then said that nothing is ever perfect, and asked if Chen Pingan hadn’t learned someone’s sage teachings? Was his knowledge of literature and propriety, the principles he held within, just empty words?

Chen Pingan complained, unable to hide his emotions, “What does learning principles have to do with a bridge?”

The person didn’t explain why, only how to do it, “Visualize a bridge in your mind, any bridge will do. You’re not that old, but you’ve traveled quite a bit. Don’t worry, as long as it’s a bridge, it doesn’t matter much, even those in the capital of Nanyuan Kingdom will do. When visualizing, don’t restrain your thoughts. Let your mind wander, don’t be afraid of them, just loosen your thoughts. The more the better, what we want is for your spirit to roam the eight extremes and wander ten thousand ren.”

Chen Pingan, unaware of his whereabouts, “closed” his eyes by the river.

For no reason, he thought of the golden arch bridge in the sea of clouds, long and seemingly endless.

Chen Pingan couldn’t see the old Daoist, no matter how hard he looked. He was destined not to find him.

Thus, Chen Pingan wouldn’t see the old Daoist glance at the swirling clouds above the long river, his expression strange, nor would he hear the old Daoist cursing Chen Qingdu for constantly causing him trouble, cursing the old scholar for being no simple lamp, finally praising a junior’s vision and courage, and remembering a mountain and river “old friend” who wasn’t human.

Chen Pingan widened his eyes, seeing the faint outline of a golden arch bridge, from his feet to the opposite bank of the long river, but it was flickering and unstable.

A book appeared in his hand, bearing the moral essays of an old man, recording a Confucian sage’s never-before-seen theory of order.

Each word detached from the book, golden and radiant, floating towards the golden arch bridge Chen Pingan had visualized.

Each word was like a brick.

Unfortunately, a good portion of the words in the book remained lifeless, especially on the pages in the middle and later parts, the words standing firm and unmoving.

Regardless, the golden long bridge over the river, as if a person had gained a spirit, finally solidified.

But it was still short of being completed, still unable to allow Chen Pingan to walk across the river, lacking flesh and blood, lacking a great deal.

It was like a person who only had a soul without a body, a skeleton, a lonely ghost unable to face the sunlight, unable to enter the mortal realm.

Moreover, the length and magnificence of the long bridge were beyond expectation, so the words in the book weren’t enough.

The old Daoist instructed, “Walk a bit, see if it collapses.”

Chen Pingan shook his head, answering with his intuition, “It will definitely collapse.”

The old Daoist didn’t question Chen Pingan. After some thought, he stepped out of the small world he had created.

And then, there was nothing more.

At the edge of the pit, Chen Pingan suddenly sat up. Where was the long river? Where was the old Daoist?

Only boundless heaven and earth.

Beside him were two flying swords, Chu Yi and Shi Wu.

Although they weren’t Chen Pingan’s natal flying swords, they had followed Chen Pingan on his travels, living together day and night, relying on each other. They had long since understood each other’s hearts.

One was silent, the other guilty.

Chen Pingan fastened his Sword Nourishing Gourd, reached out his hands, and gently patted the two flying swords, comforting them, “It’s good that the three of us are still alive. Besides, we definitely won’t be so stifled next time. And if it weren’t for you helping to block, I wouldn’t have been able to hold on until the moment my soul left my body…”

Chen Pingan stopped speaking, because he found that Chu Yi and Shi Wu were becoming more silent and more guilty.

Chen Pingan stood up, patted his Sword Nourishing Gourd, and muttered as he walked, “You guys go back in here first. We need to hurry into the city to find the Lotus Little Man! The road ahead may not be smooth. Without you, I really don’t have much confidence in fighting people now. If I don’t rest for ten days or half a month, not to mention that old demon, even that kid who can control swords would give me trouble. I might need you two to clear the way later.”

The two flying swords returned to the Sword Nourishing Gourd.

Chen Pingan walked alone towards the capital of Nanyuan Kingdom.

As he got closer and closer to the city walls, the Jinli Daoist robe gradually changed from gold back to a snow-white robe.
Chen Pingan understood, glancing back.

Behind him, the battlefield centered on Buffalo Mountain was brimming with spiritual energy that lingered. In this world, it should be the largest “blessed grotto.”

Of course, it was also saturated with martial fortune.

If he wasn’t in a hurry to return to the city to find the lotus figurine, staying put would, in fact, yield the greatest benefits.

However, Chen Pingan raised his head to look at the distant city walls. If he took all the advantages, it would be easy to become an enemy of the world.

As for whether entering the city in full view of the public would be dangerous…

Chen Pingan walked on the deserted official road, each step covering tens of yards.

The words he spoke earlier were mainly to comfort the disappointed Chu Yi and Shi Wu. In reality, if anyone dared to block his path and persist in entanglement, then Chen Pingan, wielding the Changqi, would be entirely in the right.

He had witnessed the invincible aura of the old Cui in the bamboo building.

And to personally defeat someone who was “unbeatable in the world” were two different realms.

Buffalo Mountain had already been beaten into nothingness, so where would the second celestial drum come from, and what could be said of a place of ascension?

Even Zhou Fei, playing in the mortal realm near the capital’s walls, felt a bit heavy-hearted.

Surely, they hadn’t all busied themselves for naught these sixty years?

As the heavenly lightning pool dissipated, parting the clouds to reveal the great sun and unleash brilliant light, Fan Wan’er raised the mirror, its surface gleaming and reflecting her stunning beauty.

Just as Fan Wan’er was about to put away the bronze mirror, she suddenly discovered that her reflection in the mirror was smiling, yet she herself was not smiling at all.

The “Fan Wan’er” in the mirror sighed with a smile.

A voice echoed in Fan Wan’er’s mind, “Silly child.”

She felt as if struck by lightning.

As if burned, Fan Wan’er dropped the bronze mirror, clutching her head, which throbbed with pain and felt like it was about to split open, her face filled with bitterness and tears.

Far away on the city walls, Ya’er carefully called out, “Palace Master Zhou.”

Zhou Fei turned his head and saw that the green dress on her body had automatically fallen off, swaying gently like a singing girl dancing and admiring herself, as if no one else were there.

Zhou Fei sneered, “Once you’re in my hands, do you think you can escape?”

Zhou Fei reached out and grabbed the dress at the shoulder, leaving an imprint. The green dress continued to drift to the right, tearing incessantly, finally emitting the sound of silk being ripped. Zhou Fei now held a piece of torn brocade in his hand, frowning. “Playing tricks! I want to see where this old hag’s soul can hide! What exactly are you plotting!”

Zhou Fei held more and more pieces of the torn dress.

He and Lu Fang both knew the origins of Tong Qingqing in the Great World.

The Grand Ancestor of Taiping Mountain, in order to correct her temperament, which was too inflexible and easily broken, and to prevent her from rushing forward recklessly and gambling everywhere, had temporarily reversed her Dao heart with true immortal powers before throwing her into the Lotus Root Blessed Land, making her seem innately afraid of death. The hope was that between the two extremes, she would comprehend the Great Dao and successfully ascend to the upper five realms.

Because this incarnation of the banished immortal, Tong Qingqing, was extremely afraid of death, it was reasonable for her to hide and avoid things.

But if such a timid person didn’t cherish her martial arts talent at all, it would certainly be against reason.

So, what exactly was Tong Qingqing’s trump card? It must be very interesting.

The old men of Mirror Heart Study, who were of the same generation or even older than Tong Qingqing’s teacher, had high hopes for her. She had a photographic memory, and in terms of erudition, she was probably second only to Ding Ying. Her martial arts talent was even more stunning and exceptional. If her nature wasn’t so soft and timid, Tong Qingqing would likely be the number one grandmaster in the martial world after Ding Ying.

With Ding Ying, who seemed to be an adversary but was actually secretly allied, now dead, Yu Zhenyi’s desire to kill Zhong Qiu must have faded. Moreover, having obtained the Silver Lotus Crown from Old Devil Ding, Yu Zhenyi securely occupied a place among the top three. He was unwilling to add unnecessary details to avoid becoming a target, as he had already committed a great taboo by joining forces with Ding Ying to set up such a large scheme against all the grandmasters.

Currently, it was only because Yu Zhenyi’s combat power remained completely unscathed that people didn’t dare to break ties with him and talk about martial ethics.

At least Zhong Qiu, the knife grinder Liu Zong, and the hiding Tong Qingqing must have a very poor impression of Yu Zhenyi.

So, Zhou Fei was actually unwilling to fall out with Tong Qingqing at this time. However, this green dress and the Golden Arhat statue that the Cloud Mud monk had requested from the Emperor of Nanyuan were fortunes he absolutely had to obtain. The former was to take away the demonic Ya’er to temper his son Zhou Shi’s character, and the latter was to exchange for a magic treasure to give to Lu Fang. After the next sixty years, even without him, Zhou Fei, in the Spring Tide Palace, the Sword Immortal of Bird’s Eye Peak would still be allied with the Spring Tide Palace, ensuring there were no future worries on Zhou Shi’s path to the peak of martial arts.

In the end, it was still too difficult for great cultivators like him to have children, especially the Jiang clan of the Jade Tablet Sect, who had been passing down a single line for many years.

A bald old man, carrying a large travel bag, ascended the city walls, moving swiftly. It was none other than the Cloud Mud monk, who had taken off his cassock and left the Vajra Temple.

Passing by Fan Wan’er, who was squatting on the ground holding her head, the old man glanced curiously, wondering what had caused this young immortal of the Mirror Heart Study such pain.

However, when the old man saw Zhou Fei “tearing apart” the green dress, the man who was no longer a monk roared, “Zhou Fei!”

Zhou Fei sneered, “Old Bald Donkey, do you really think this dress sought you out with good intentions? It’s just one of the old hag Tong Qingqing’s schemes. You’ve been fooled by her for most of your life, and you’re still deluded? The dress is one of the four fortunes, that’s true, but is there anything inside? Tong Qingqing’s soul has long been hidden within.”

The old man remained unmoved, his eyes wide, like a Diamond Guardian in a temple hall, “What’s it to you?! It was agreed that you would take ‘Miss Qingqing’ away from this world, and I would bring you this Arhat statue. If you, Zhou Fei, dare to go back on your word, I will dare to kill you!”

Zhou Fei was amused, “You, an old bald donkey, calling a dress ‘Miss Qingqing,’ aren’t you ashamed?”

The old man was momentarily speechless, feeling a bit guilty.
Zhou Fei pointed towards Fan Wan’er in the distance, admiration gleaming in his eyes. “This direct disciple of Tong Qingqing, the future mistress of Mirror Heart Hermitage, is likely the fleshy vessel of Tong Qingqing, a banished immortal in this lifetime! Back then, she first rejuvenated, becoming as young as Yu Zhenyi, with the appearance of a child. Then, she abandoned her cultivation realm, allowing herself to grow into a young woman like Fan Wan’er. With Reverence Pavilion helping her deceive the heavens, you and I, everyone in the world, even Ding Ying, were fooled!”

Zhou Fei laughed heartily. “Even deceiving herself, Tong Qingqing, you are ruthless! Alas, alas, all are but external things.”

With a flick of his sleeve, Zhou Fei let the azure dress float away.

Without the azure dress, acquiring that Arhat’s golden body meant seizing it by force from Monk Yunni.

However, after weighing the pros and cons, Zhou Fei relinquished both opportunities for fortune, desiring only one of the spots among the top three grandmasters.

He could still take the Demonic Sect’s Crow Child away.

In this Lotus Root Blessed Land, for banished immortals who are Qi refiners in the Vast World, it’s like practicing Dao in a snail’s shell, with limited freedom, or like a skilled cook without rice, unable to do anything.

The appearance of that Chen Ping’an disrupted all the plans. Even Ding Ying could die; who else in this world dares to say they won’t die?

Zhou Fei worried about getting caught in a trap and being killed. Although it wouldn’t prevent him from leaving the Lotus Root Blessed Land, the loss would be significant.

The biggest problem currently is that among the ten in the world, only two have died so far, one at the beginning and one at the end: Ding Ying and Feng Qingbai.

Eight remain, meaning five more need to die before the promise in that secret letter can take effect.

Lu Fang, worthy of being a longtime friend of the Jiang Clan’s head, quickly understood the key. “Rest assured, I will be watching for the next sixty years. Zhou Shi can definitely reach the top three.”

Zhou Fei, unexpectedly taking a step back, Monk Yunni naturally didn’t want to, and dared not, press him aggressively. He followed the “Miss Qingqing” to Fan Wan’er’s side.

She was vigorously rubbing her temples.

Then, the young and beautiful woman straightened her back, clapping her hands against her cheeks with a crisp sound.

Fan Wan’er extended two fingers, pinching the collar of the azure dress in front of her, shaking it a few times. After putting it on, she tore it open and casually tossed it to the bewildered old monk. She smiled and said, “Rest assured, your so-called Miss Qingqing is still here. You just need to stay on Bull Mountain, and she will soon regain vitality. She is the true owner of this dress. My soul has only borrowed it for a few decades. After residing, I sealed it off, making it like a dead object. This way, it wouldn’t be easily discovered by Ding Ying. So, whatever you said to this dress over the years, whether it was Buddhist words or sweet nothings, I didn’t hear a single word.”

The old monk held the dress in his arms, a little embarrassed.

Fan Wan’er narrowed her eyes, falling into contemplation, ignoring the monk who had long been tempted by the mortal world.

Memories gradually returned, flowing like a clear spring into her heart, but she deliberately set them aside in a corner of her mind, not dealing with them yet.

Instead, she began to review as purely “Fan Wan’er, disciple of Mirror Heart Hermitage.”

Senior Sister Zhou Shuzhen, acting on behalf of her master, accepted the young Fan Wan’er and took her back. In the sect’s forbidden Mirror Heart Pavilion, Fan Wan’er only bowed three times to the painting.

She had been the person in the world who most wanted to see “Tong Qingqing.” So, Zhou Shuzhen eventually gave her a bronze mirror.

She learned the White Ape Swordplay, hailed in the martial world as “With or without the sword on her back, Fan Wan’er is two different people.”

However, Fan Wan’er discovered that the final strike of this unique skill seemed unusable in this world. There was neither such a sword nor such a martial artist’s physique. Yet, Zhou Shuzhen insisted that she thoroughly study this White Ape Swordplay.

Therefore, when Chen Ping’an, the banished immortal, was at White River Temple, he found it strange that Fan Wan’er, despite being “close to the Great Dao,” seemed to be walking with a heavy burden, moving sluggishly. It was because her soul was missing a large part, like a living corpse, how could she be agile?

Fan Wan’er also asked Crown Prince Wei Yan on the bridge if he often encountered familiar people and events. Later, in the Crown Prince’s residence, the old chef, originally the third-ranked cultivator in the world, also saw Fan Wan’er’s strangeness at a glance. However, the old man mistakenly thought she was merely a reincarnation of some “banished immortal,” so she was more easily “possessed,” surrounded by certain auras.

Thinking about the two times she inexplicably took the initiative to find Chen Ping’an.

Fan Wan’er grinned. Well, what kind of background did he have to get Grand Ancestral Master to agree to let him possess her? Taking the risk to descend into Lotus Root Blessed Land was to warn Chen Ping’an? Unfortunately, the rules of this world were too strict, making it difficult to exploit loopholes. So, those two times, “Fan Wan’er” could only stare blankly, unable to say a word. And Chen Ping’an probably just saw her as a crazy woman?

“Fan Wan’er” stepped on the ruins of the wall, leaning forward, one arm resting on her leg, looking into the distance with a rich smile.

At the night market, on a table near her and Chen Ping’an, ordinary people seemed to be cursing in the streets, slapping tables and glaring at each other, cursing about an old procuress and whorehouse, saying that it shouldn’t happen more than three times, or they would open a brothel directly in the other’s house.

The real meaning, of course, was that “no more than three times.”

However, those curses were truly crude, sounding like the wording of that bratty little Daoist boy. When she returned to the Vast World, even if Grand Ancestral Master stopped her, she would have a good talk with that little rascal she had long disliked. Over the past ninety years, Ding Ying had coincidentally met her several times. It shouldn’t have been the little Daoist boy acting on his own, but when she was captured by the Sect Master of the Talisman Gate, she dared to say it was definitely that most vengeful little bastard playing tricks on her. Although there was no real danger, thinking about it now, it was still disgusting.

Moreover, because of the possession incident.

Most importantly, Grand Ancestral Master had broken the rules of Lotus Root Blessed Land, causing all of “Mirror Heart Hermitage’s Tong Qingqing’s” plans to come to naught.

The little Daoist boy, before Tong Qingqing could obtain the soul fragments in the bronze mirror and azure dress, quickly decided on the final ten on the list.

Or was it that Grand Ancestral Master, who had been stingy all his life, had met a wealthy benefactor, so he didn’t care about the money anymore? Was he planning to directly throw money to pull her out of the Lotus Root Blessed Land?

In Fan Wan’er’s, or rather Tong Qingqing’s, sight.

The white robe was already approaching the city.
Nay, to be precise, she was now Huang Ting, a Taoist priestess of Mount Taiping, no longer a puppet of tangled threads,樊莞爾, nor the timid and cowardly Tong Qingqing.

She let out a sound, raised her arm high, and gave a thumbs-up to the figure outside the city.

This was Huang Ting, the renowned Taoist priestess of Mount Taiping, paying respects for the first time in her life to a man younger than herself.

Chen Pingan raised his head, looking at the strange and unfamiliar Fan Wan’er, and frowned slightly.

He merely glanced at Zhong Qiu, and the two exchanged a smile.

In Chen Pingan’s eyes, no matter the Jianghu, there should be figures like Song Yushao and Zhong Qiu to truly be considered the Jianghu.

Huang Ting raised an eyebrow, her smile deepening, “Got some spunk, I like it!”

Outside the city stood Chen Pingan, who had halted his steps.

On the city wall, those among the top ten included Yu Zhenyi, the Sect Leader of Lake Mountain Sect, who had already donned the silver lotus coronet, a jade-like flying sword hovering beside him, and now held a jade bamboo folding fan. Each rib of the fan was inscribed with a martial arts secret, in characters as small as flies.

Zhong Qiu, a look of understanding on his face, slumped against the dilapidated city wall, his shoulders drooping, no longer resembling the Grand Preceptor of Nanyuan Kingdom he usually was.

Chun Chao Palace’s Zhou Fei.

The solemn-faced Grand General Tang Tieyi of Northern Jin kept stroking the hilt of his Refiner’s Blade with his thumb.

Liu Zong, the Knifegrinder.

The Cloud-Mud Monk, holding a soft, blue monk robe.

Cheng Yuanshan remained hidden somewhere within the capital.

Feng Qingbai, the tenth-ranked wandering swordsman, had already died under the Refiner’s Blade of his good brother, Tang Tieyi.

Ding Laomo, the first ranked, had died at the hands of the celestial being named Chen Pingan.

Beyond the top ten, Huang Ting, whose aura had undergone a complete transformation, was also on the city wall. Although not among the ten, even Zhou Fei probably wouldn’t dare provoke her now. With the fusion of her soul and body, her appearance began to change. Her already stunning beauty gained a few more points of radiance, becoming even more mesmerizing.

Lu Fang of Bird-View Peak was preparing to stay in Lotus Root Blessed Land for another sixty years, both for his own Dao heart and to act as a protector for his friend’s son.

Zhou Shi, the Flower-Adorned Gentleman, was filled with melancholy at the impending separation, as well as anticipation for the beautiful things to come in sixty years.

Ya’er of the Devil Sect, about to be taken out of this world by Zhou Fei, was the most heartbroken since Ding Ying’s death.

At this very moment, as everyone saw the young celestial being stop on the official road outside the city gate.

Yu Zhenyi’s eyes were dark, his face unreadable.

Zhong Qiu smiled knowingly. The one who killed Ding Laomo should be this imposing! As if saying, “You all saw it, I, Chen Pingan, was injured in the battle with Ding Ying. Whoever wants to take advantage of my weakness, come ahead. Once we are off the city walls, we will fight to the death.”

The Knifegrinder Liu Zong sighed, leaning against the wall, feeling troubled. Having witnessed the earth-shattering battle at Buffalo Mountain, he truly lacked the energy to wade into troubled waters, finding it all meaningless. If he had the chance to step down from the city wall safely this time and return to his shop at Kejia Bridge, he would just be a wealthy man from then on, at most picking one or two favored disciples, and nothing more.

A hint of anger flashed in the eyes of Grand General Tang Tieyi of the Dragon Martial Army, but after hesitating for a moment, he simply closed his eyes to rest, out of sight, out of mind.

In the end, Chen Pingan walked straight through the city gate, gradually moving away.

Yu Zhenyi floated up, stepping onto the jade-like flying sword, about to head to Buffalo Mountain.

The abundant spiritual energy that had gathered from all over the world had already begun to dissipate. How could Yu Zhenyi, a cultivator, miss such a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity?

Spiritual energy was different from the ethereal Martial Fortune of the world, it didn’t discriminate. Whoever had the ability could embrace it.

Tang Tieyi fixed his gaze on the dispirited Knifegrinder Liu Zong, slowly moving forward along the ramparts.

Liu Zong was startled, jumping up and cursing, “You good-for-nothing Tang Tieyi, you dare to treat me like a pushover?!”

Huang Ting, on the other hand, set her sights on the displeasing Zhou Fei.

What Tong Qingqing of Mirror Heart Studio could tolerate, Huang Ting of Mount Taiping could not!

In Fan Wan’er’s eyes, it was an ordinary bronze mirror, but in Huang Ting’s hands, it held great mystery. She controlled it with her Qi, grabbing the bronze mirror from the ground. She heavily tapped the mirror surface with her fingers, and it shattered with a bang, revealing an eerie phenomenon like a deep, green pool. Huang Ting extended two fingers, as if pinching something, and pulled it out, revealing a sheathed long sword!

She was the pride of Mount Taiping, the third largest sect in Tongye Continent, the future sect leader, Huang Ting, destined to become a twelfth-realm immortal as long as she reached the upper five realms!

If she didn’t have any family treasures, it would be too absurd.

In an instant, Zhou Shi and Ya’er exchanged glances, both feeling like they were sitting on pins and needles.

The two turned their heads abruptly.

Just in time to meet the gaze of the white-robed celestial being looking up at the city wall.

Zhou Fei laughed and cursed, “Ding Laomo, that guy with ambitions higher than the sky, is more trouble than he’s worth, he screwed me over.”

Zhou Fei turned to look at Lu Fang, who also sighed helplessly, “Unless this person ascends with you, Zhou Shi will definitely be in danger if he stays in Lotus Root Blessed Land.”

Zhou Fei pinched his chin. If it was difficult to form a good relationship, then he would have to make other plans.

But at this moment, everyone couldn’t help but look up at the sky.

The sea of clouds opened a golden hole, and a pillar of light landed on the city wall in an instant.

In the blink of an eye.

Probably no one in the capital, except for these celestial beings and grandmasters on the city wall, would notice this scene.

In everyone’s view, a small Taoist child appeared, carrying a delicate five-colored rattle drum in his hand, but carrying a huge golden gourd on his back, almost as tall as himself, looking extremely comical.

Huang Ting saw this little guy and exclaimed “Yo,” then ignored Zhou Fei and strode towards this disciple of someone who was very annoying in the Grand World.

The little Taoist child glanced at the murderous Huang Ting and rolled his eyes, “I’m not here to fight this time, if you go too far and annoy my master, aren’t you afraid that your Grand Ancestor, would have wasted all those years protecting you?”
If Huang Ting were still the Taiping Mountain Daoist nun she was before coming to Lotus Flower Paradise, she would have simply retorted, “That’s a matter for my ancestral master,” and then proceeded to act regardless. But now, she grinned, her face conveying, “Just you wait until we get to the Vast Sky World!” The little Daoist boy retorted with a matching grin, unimpressed, as if to say, “Comparing backings with me? Taiping Mountain is still a bit small, isn’t it? It’s not like Dragon Tiger Mountain of the Central Earth Divine Continent.”

The little Daoist boy cleared his throat, puffed out his chest, and strode along the ramparts of the city wall. His voice wasn’t loud, but everyone could hear him clearly. “The rules have changed. This is great news for you all. The last ten on the list who survive can ascend. Those unwilling to leave this world should leave the city walls between the second and third drumbeats. Of course, even if you don’t ascend, those who step down from the city walls will still receive a magical treasure.”

“Remember,” he continued, “those who ascend from the city walls will leave their physical bodies behind in this world, with only their souls going elsewhere, retaining all their memories. Don’t think that starting over is all bad; there are mysteries to be experienced later.”

The little Daoist boy walked with a swagger, full of himself. “The top three on the list are even more fortunate. Yu Zhenyi, ranked second, can take three people with her if she chooses to ascend. Zhou Fei, ranked third, can take one person at will. My master has spoken: Ding Ying is excluded. Those taken along can leave with their physical bodies intact.”

“Hmm, it seems many are confused. Don’t be surprised; your strength is too low, and you aren’t qualified to participate. If you harbor wishful thinking, you’ll only end up like Feng Qingbai.”

Speaking of this, the little Daoist boy chuckled at Huang Ting. “Isn’t it infuriating? Your strength was originally enough to put you in the top three. Alas, man proposes, heaven disposes. Nothing can be done. Who told you Taiping Mountain to collude with those two outsiders, breaking the rules first? My master was very angry at the time.”

Huang Ting twitched the corner of her mouth.

The little Daoist boy tilted his head, staring at her face, adding fuel to the fire. “Huang Ting, how can you be so shameless? In the Vast Sky World, you weren’t even half as pretty as you are now…”

The little Daoist boy seemed to be hit on the back of the head, falling face-first to the ground. Unashamed, he stood up, dusted off his Daoist robe, and brushed past Huang Ting, sticking his tongue out before continuing, “Finally, here’s an age-old rule passed down through generations: don’t easily publicize today’s events. Just keep it to yourselves. Of course, if you really can’t hold it in and mention it to a very few people, it won’t matter.”

Having said all this in one breath, the little Daoist boy raised his pellet drum and gently shook it.

There were no celestial phenomena, just a light “dong” sound.

Was that the second strike of the Heaven-Shaking Drum?

Yu Zhenyi, standing on a glazed flying sword, gave a salute to the little Daoist boy. “Farewell, Immortal Master.”

The little Daoist boy treated this “peer” of his with a different attitude, showing more seriousness, acting like an old man. “Go, each person has their own aspirations. My master isn’t disappointed in you, so please cherish the next cycle of sixty years.”

Yu Zhenyi revealed a rare hint of excitement, controlling her sword and flying away towards the ruins of the Guniu Mountain battlefield, greedily absorbing the spiritual energy of the world.

Hopefully, after emerging from seclusion, she could break through her realm again, perhaps even having a chance to fight Chen Ping’an.

Zhong Qiu smiled and asked, “Liu Zong, what do you say?”

The knife sharpener, Liu Zong, pondered for a moment, and laughed, “I’ll have to trouble the State Preceptor to sell my shop for me in the future. I believe with State Preceptor Zhong’s methods, you already know the young people I’ve taken a liking to. When the time comes, divide the silver and give it to them.”

Zhong Qiu nodded. “Not difficult. Then, farewell?”

Liu Zong sighed.

Zhong Qiu clasped his fist in salute.

Liu Zong quickly returned the salute, unable to help but ask, “State Preceptor Zhong, aren’t you leaving together? After leaving, you might still have a chance to return, but if you don’t leave this time, there will be no more opportunities to ascend.”

Zhong Qiu shook his head. “My heart is at peace where I am.”

Liu Zong kept his fist clasped, not lowering it.

Zhong Qiu smiled warmly, gently pressing down on Liu Zong’s hand before turning and leaving, stepping down from the city walls.

The little Daoist boy glanced at Zhong Qiu’s back, shaking his head.

Tang Tieyi quickly followed Zhong Qiu.

The Yunni monk took a step off the city wall, landing outside the city, carrying a blue dress in his arms, quickly running towards Guniu Mountain.

There were few left on the city wall.

Zhou Fei said to Lu Fang, “First, take Zhou Shi to hide. It’s best to leave Nanyuan Kingdom, the farther the better. Once I leave Lotus Flower Paradise, no one will be able to stop Chen Ping’an.”

Lu Fang and Zhou Shi didn’t hesitate, immediately leaping down from the city walls, bypassing Guniu Mountain, and heading towards the border of Nanyuan Kingdom.

In the end, only four people remained: the little Daoist boy carrying a huge gourd, Huang Ting of Taiping Mountain, “Zhou Fei” of the Jade Tablet Sect, and Liu Zong, native of Lotus Flower Paradise.

The little Daoist boy glanced at a certain stone bridge in the city, where the Arm Saint Cheng Yuanshan was hiding. He was full of mockery, yawned, and casually shook the pellet drum, the third drumbeat sounding.

By not appearing on the city walls, Cheng Yuanshan’s efforts were all in vain. He couldn’t ascend, nor could he obtain any additional opportunities.

A brilliant pillar of light surged down, enveloping Liu Zong. He vanished instantly, leaving nothing behind.

The little Daoist boy clearly admired Zhou Fei, revealing a little more secret of heaven, softly saying, “Don’t worry about Chen Ping’an causing trouble here. Heh, he’s got his own troubles to deal with.”

Zhou Fei looked enlightened, smiling. “Thank you.”

The second pillar of light fell upon the world. Zhou Fei lingered longer than Liu Zong. His figure blurred, and he even had the leisure to wave farewell to Huang Ting.

The little Daoist boy smiled, gazing at the frowning Taiping Mountain Daoist nun. “Are you very worried about your situation?”

Huang Ting sneered, “Go back and tell my ancestral master, there’s no need to spend money. At most ten years, and what Sui Youbian couldn’t do, I can. When the time comes, it will be when I break through my realm. I want to ascend with my physical body and return to the Vast Sky World.”

The little Daoist boy’s smile was playful. He tapped his toes and, carrying such a large golden gourd, began to “ascend” into the air. Without a pillar of light, he wiggled and writhed, slowly swimming towards the sky like a dog paddling…

Huang Ting glanced at the scene and refused to look again. Such childish antics were something only this little brat could do.
In the capital city of the Nanyuan Kingdom, there was a gaunt little girl who had sold her books. She bought two articles of clothing and with the remaining copper coins, ordered a lavish spread of delicacies, the kind that only appeared in dreams. She devoured them ravenously, as if afraid that eating too slowly would mean a great loss. Sitting on the chair, she had to stretch high on her tiptoes to reach the delectable dishes across the table. Her face was smeared with grease, and she felt a happiness she had never known before.

A child named Cao Qinglang was led away by a squad of soldiers to the yamen (government office). Outside the main hall, four straw mats were laid out, covered with four white cloths. The child squatted there, dazed and silent.

Beneath a bridge, the “Arm Saint” Cheng Yuanshan was still waiting patiently, awaiting the earth-shattering sound of the second drumbeat.

A poor scholar, upon hearing of the deaths not far away, was dragged by his friend to join the throng of onlookers. The area was already swarming with commoners. The scholar only heard that it was a beautiful woman who had died. He thought that when she returned (to him in the afterlife), he must tell her of this tragedy, and most importantly, persuade her to stay home more. Even if they were a little more impoverished, it wouldn’t matter. She wouldn’t need to visit relatives and borrow money to buy him books.

Flying swiftly, Chen Ping’an returned to that main street. After turning into the alley, his footsteps grew heavy.

Upon entering the city, even though so many grandmasters stood atop the city walls…

Chen Ping’an still passed through with an unprecedented, invincible air – dressed in white, carrying a wine flask, and holding a longsword, a figure of effortless grace.

But at this very moment, facing an ordinary residence adorned with cheap spring couplets, Chen Ping’an raised his hand several times, only to let it fall again, unable to knock on the door.

Chen Ping’an did not know…

That the old Taoist stood behind him, watching him.

The old Taoist needed to “know” two things.

How Chen Ping’an understood himself.

And how he viewed the mortal realm.

(End of Chapter)