When Chen Ping’an awoke, the moon was already high in the sky. Perhaps because he carried a saber and a sword, the tavern owner hadn’t dared to chase him away. The old man just held his nose and tolerated this vagabond, who was like a man occupying the privy but not relieving himself. Chen Ping’an, feeling generous, gave the old man some extra silver. It was a windfall, and the old tavern keeper was quite happy.

Chen Ping’an slowly strolled back towards Scholar Lane. The brothels were doing a brisk business. The beautiful women, usually so vibrant, were now listlessly draped over the railings. Chen Ping’an looked up and noticed that their makeup was lighter than usual, yet somehow more appealing than their usual heavy cosmetics.

Many of the women called out to him from above, teasing and flirting. One even threw a handkerchief down to him, exclaiming, “Handsome young man, come up and sit with me. This sister will treat you to tea and let you sit on her lap!”

The women in her brothel and the nearby pleasure houses immediately began to jeer and make lewd jokes. Chen Ping’an easily avoided the handkerchief but glanced back at it on the ground. He returned, picked it up, rolled it into a ball, and gently tossed it back to the woman. The brothel women were silent for a moment, then burst into raucous laughter.

Chen Ping’an’s heart was still as a tranquil pond. He walked back into the alleyway. At the corner, a man and a woman dressed in commoner’s clothing were waiting. They were young, not yet thirty, but their breathing was deep and their aura steady. In this Lotus Blessing Land, they were likely considered talented individuals with a solid foundation. Of course, compared to prodigies like Smiling Face and Zanhua Lang Zhou Shi, the gap was still immense.

They introduced themselves as spies directly under the command of Imperial Preceptor Zhong Qiu, from the capital. The man handed Chen Ping’an two packages containing the stolen books they had gathered from bookstores in a nearby market town, as well as books on bridge construction selected from the Ministry of Public Works. The woman then gave Chen Ping’an a secret dossier concerning the Jiang surnamed scholar and the pipa-playing courtesan.

Chen Ping’an noticed that both the man and the woman were unsteady, both in their hearts and in their hands, as they handed him the items.

Chen Ping’an smiled at them, thanked them, and walked towards Cao Qinglang’s residence.

He had killed Ma Xuan, the Pink Vajra, and the pipa-playing courtesan in the street, nearly killed Lu Fang of Bird’s View Peak, defeated Imperial Preceptor Zhong Qiu, and finally killed Ding Ying, the Supreme Master of the Demonic Sect.

To these Southern Garden spies who walked the edge of the court and the pugilistic world, it was like the old General Lu Xiao on the city walls, witnessing the peak battle between Yu Zhenyi and the Daoist Huang Ting, and involuntarily exclaiming, “Truly immortals!” Chen Ping’an’s current reputation in this land, even exceeded Ding Ying’s at the height of his power.

As Chen Ping’an slowly walked to the courtyard gate, pushed it open, and entered, the young woman finally took a deep breath. It turned out she had been holding her breath, afraid to exhale. She whispered softly, “So he really is that young.”

The man looked helpless and remained silent.

She giggled, “He’s really handsome.”

After saying this, she felt a little embarrassed.

Just then, the man suddenly backed out of the courtyard, leaned back, gave the woman a thumbs up, and smiled, “Good eye.”

The woman was stunned. Even the normally stern man was caught off guard.

As the sound of the closing gate faded, the woman covered her face and stomped her foot hard.

The man sighed. In truth, she wasn’t usually so foolish. In her seven years as a spy, she had been adept at infiltration, always meticulous and steady. She had rendered many meritorious services for the Southern Garden court. Even Imperial Preceptor Zhong Qiu had a high regard for her. The fact that the two of them were responsible for surveilling Tang Tieyi, the Northern Jin Dragon Martial General, was a testament to Zhong Qiu’s trust.

In the courtyard, Cao Qinglang and the as-yet-unnamed little girl were sitting on small stools. The two of the same age weren’t chatting. The little girl was cracking melon seeds, likely having gotten them from Cao Qinglang. She was scattering the shells everywhere. When she saw Chen Ping’an, she panicked. Chen Ping’an glanced at the ground. She immediately put the remaining seeds in her pocket and began to clean up the shells.

Chen Ping’an greeted Cao Qinglang and went inside. He lit the oil lamp, opened the two packages. The books that the little girl had sold off were intact and undamaged. He restacked them on the table. The books from the Ministry of Public Works were placed on the other side. Two small mountains of books, one on the left and one on the right, stood like door gods guarding the entrance. Chen Ping’an opened the secret dossier, which contained a detailed record of the pasts of the Jiang surnamed scholar and the pipa concubine.

Chen Ping’an returned the letter to its envelope and tucked it into a book.

Chen Ping’an began to review this inexplicable game of chess.

Although this trip to Lotus Blessing Land had been fraught with danger, it had yielded rich rewards.

The battle with Grandmaster of Martial Arts Zhong Qiu had not only successfully broken through the Fourth Realm bottleneck, but in their second exchange, Zhong Qiu had even lowered his status and actively fed him punches, helping him stabilize his Fifth Realm cultivation. Although Zhong Qiu had his own considerations, guessing that Ding Ying and Yu Zhenyi were likely conspiring together and wanting to thwart them, regardless, Zhong Qiu’s grandmasterly demeanor, martial prowess, and temperament impressed Chen Ping’an.

The battle with Ding Ying afterward was exhilarating and full of twists and turns. Chen Ping’an truly wielded a sword against an enemy for the first time. Sure enough, a pure martial artist still needed to temper his body on the line between life and death. Even though Chen Ping’an was unaware of the standards of other Fifth Realm martial artists in the Great Hao Heaven, he believed that his own Fifth Realm foundation was quite good.

This was the foundation of his being. Chen Ping’an, no matter how greedy he was for wealth, wouldn’t trade it for any amount of gold.

To retreat ten thousand steps, even if the bridge of longevity couldn’t be built on this trip to Lotus Blessing Land, it would still have been worthwhile. It was far better than Chen Ping’an’s previous hopes of going to the ancient battlefield ruins or the Martial Saint’s temple to try his luck and strive to reach the Fifth Realm.

However, this trip, with its overwhelmingly positive developments, also harbored hidden dangers.

The problem lay in being struck by Ding Ying’s Yin Spirit Golden Body from the peak of Buffalo Mountain and sent flying into the pit outside the mountain, especially in the depths of the “Thunder Pool”. The vast spiritual energy and shattered martial fortunes of the Lotus Blessing Land, entangled with the Buffalo Mountain area, poured into Chen Ping’an’s body, seeping into his soul. Chen Ping’an faintly sensed that a mist had risen on his heart lake, lingering and unyielding. Lightning intertwined, like dragons and serpents soaring through the clouds, and streaks of sword light flashed within the mist, as if swords were cleaving through dragons.
Fortunately, the spiritual energies that clashed with the pure Qi of a martial artist hadn’t incited rebellions in the remote, fragmented fiefdoms. After all, in the vast world, the paths of Qi cultivators and martial artists were fundamentally distinct from the very beginning. Martial artists had to disperse the spiritual energy within their bodies to forge a pure Qi, like a fiery dragon patrolling the wilderness. In contrast, the first step for Qi cultivators was to absorb as much spiritual energy from the heavens and earth as possible. Afterward, they would refine and purify it, expanding their inner domains, turning their Qi reservoirs into residences and cities, like vast lakes beside mighty rivers. Whether during floods or droughts, Qi cultivators could always connect themselves to the heavens and earth, with spiritual energy flowing continuously. Eventually, they would open their Dantian, form a Golden Core, nurture a Yin Spirit and a Yang Spirit, and ultimately achieve the realm of a terrestrial immortal.

Currently, within Chen Ping’an’s body, pure Qi and spiritual energies were in opposition, two armies facing off, each forming their formations, barely maintaining a state of mutual non-interference.

Chen Ping’an collected his thoughts, picked up the gourd beside the table, and took a sip of wine.

Building a longevity bridge was so difficult. Destroying a bridge was easy, but building one was hard. He almost died in that Lotus Blossom Blessed Land. Just thinking about that possibility made Chen Ping’an feel lingering fear. Even if a Jiazi cycle within the Lotus Blossom Blessed Land wasn’t equal to sixty years in the vast world, it would definitely cause him to miss the ten-year promise with Miss Ning. After ten years, how old would Li Bao Ping and Li Huai be? Would they be bullied during that time? What about Gu Can, who went to Shujian Lake? Would Liu Xianyang return home in glory, only to find that he was gone? What would happen to the dilapidated mountain bamboo building and the ancestral house in Ni Ping Alley, and the shop in Qi Long Lane?

Chen Ping’an stood up, and soon a knock came from the courtyard gate. The scrawny little girl also ran to Chen Ping’an’s side room, as if to claim credit. She was about to remind Chen Ping’an that a guest had arrived when the door opened. Chen Ping’an saw the female spy from the Nan Yuan Kingdom standing outside the courtyard gate, holding a long box. Chen Ping’an walked over, and she explained softly, “This is the late Consort Pipa’s belongings. The State Preceptor just instructed someone to bring it over and asked me to deliver it to Immortal Chen.”

Before Chen Ping’an could say anything, she had already blushed and fled in a panic.

Cao Qinglang watched this scene with curiosity. The scrawny little girl’s eyes darted around, seemingly lost in thought.

Chen Ping’an placed the pipa back in the room. Cao Qinglang returned to his room to study by lamplight. The little girl continued to sit on the stool, cracking sunflower seeds. This time, she had learned her lesson and didn’t scatter the shells all over the ground like a celestial maiden scattering flowers. Instead, they were piled up at her feet.

Chen Ping’an walked towards the stool, noticing that Cao Qinglang had left his palm-leaf fan on the stool. He gently picked it up, sat down, and said to the little girl, “You can go home now.”

She cracked sunflower seeds, blinked her eyes, and shook her head, “Home? I don’t have a home. I’m just a little beggar, where would I get a home? There are a lot of bad people among the beggars, and they often beat me. I’m too young and can’t eat enough, so I’m even weaker, and I can’t beat them. All the good spots in the capital are taken by them. I can’t compete, so I can only find places to live randomly, like under bridges, or on the stone lions of wealthy families.”

Chen Ping’an asked, “What about your parents?”

The scrawny little girl cracked sunflower seeds and laughed, “They died long ago. I’m not from the capital, but from a place several thousand miles away from here. My hometown was hit by a plague. I was still small then, and my parents and I fled. My mother died on the road. My father brought me here. The officials in the capital were not bad and set up many porridge kitchens outside the city. My father drank a big bowl of porridge before he died.”

Chen Ping’an asked again, “How old are you this year?”

She stretched out her two palms, hooked one little finger, and shook it, “Nine years old.”

Chen Ping’an stopped talking.

She laughed a few times, “I don’t look like nine years old, right? There’s no way, I’m starving, so I can’t grow tall. The last time you saw the person who gave me the little snowman, she’s only six years old, but she’s already taller than me. That young scholar in the courtyard, Cao Qinglang, is even younger than me.”

Chen Ping’an gently waved the palm-leaf fan, appearing indifferent, cold and heartless.

The little girl had actually been observing Chen Ping’an’s expression and eyes all along. Seeing him like this, she cursed in her heart. Wealthy people, sure enough, none of them are good! They never care about the lives of others. Even a little bit of silver slipping through his fingers could give her a good life, but he just wouldn’t give it.

She was already nine years old, but she was so thin and small that she looked like a five- or six-year-old child. The reason why Chen Ping’an didn’t feel strange was because he had lived like that himself. It wasn’t until he left Ni Ping Alley and the small town and went to Yao the Old Man’s Dragon Kiln as an apprentice that he began to grow taller. Before that, Chen Ping’an was half a head shorter than his peers.

Chen Ping’an had been wearing the Lovelorn and Snowdrift all day today, so even sitting on a small stool, he still possessed a certain majesty.

This was the reason why the little girl had been especially honest and well-behaved tonight.

The palm-leaf fan waved, and a gentle breeze blew. Chen Ping’an asked, “How much money did you get for stealing those books?”

She frowned, trying to squeeze out some tears, but she couldn’t. She had to raise one palm and shout with a crying voice, “I really didn’t steal any books. I can swear. If I lied, may I be struck by lightning and die a horrible death!”

Chen Ping’an asked with a smile, “If you lied, who would be struck by lightning and die a horrible death? You don’t seem to have made it clear.”

Her expression changed slightly, and she laughed dryly, “Of course it’s me, who else could it be?”

Chen Ping’an nodded, “Then who are you? What’s your surname and name?”

The little girl bent over and fiddled with the pile of sunflower seed shells with her fingers, “I have a surname, but I don’t have a name yet. My parents left early and didn’t have time to give me a name.”

Speaking of this, she raised her head and smiled brightly, “But my dad told me that our family was very rich. There were very big officials who managed thousands of people.”

Chen Ping’an stopped the palm-leaf fan and shook the wine gourd, “Do you miss your parents?”

She blurted out, “What would I do with missing them, I don’t even remember what they look like.”

Perhaps feeling that saying so would be unpopular, she immediately changed her tone, “Actually, I still miss them a lot. That’s why I often dream about them, but unfortunately, I still can’t see their faces clearly. Every time I dream about them, when I wake up in the morning, my face is covered in tears, so sad.”

Chen Ping’an turned to look at her.

The little girl stretched out her palm again, “I swear!”
Chen Ping’an asked, “Are you really not afraid of the heavens?”

The little girl was a little annoyed, but she didn’t dare to argue with him, so she quickly lowered her head and muttered, “There ain’t no such thing as the heavens.”

Chen Ping’an stood up, put down the cattail fan, and walked out of the courtyard. A person was standing at the corner of the street.

That person wore a silver lotus crown on his head, with the face and height of a child, and a long sword slung across his back.

Chen Ping’an walked to the corner, and the person had already retreated to the opposite side of the street, as if to indicate that he was not there to cause trouble, but to discuss something.

Chen Ping’an’s impression of this person was not good.

Yu Zhenyi, the Sect Leader of the Lakeside Mountain Sect, the so-called righteous leader who colluded with Ding Ying in secret, and the unwavering number two in the world.

Yu Zhenyi smiled and said, “My return to the capital of the Southern Garden Kingdom this time is for both official and private matters. The official matter is to discuss with Zhong Qiu to hand over the Five Peaks Atlas. My Lakeside Mountain Sect and I can move into the Southern Garden Kingdom and not compete with Zhong Qiu for the position of National Preceptor. The private matter is to ask if you have any so-called immortal coins from the banished immortals, snow coins, Lesser Heat coins, Grain Rain coins. Any one will do. I am willing to trade with you. Anything that Lotus Root Paradise has, I can help you find.”

Chen Ping’an retorted, “If I really wanted to, couldn’t I find them myself?”

Yu Zhenyi shook his head and said, “Why waste your time? I am ultimately more familiar with the martial world and courts of the four countries of Lotus Root Paradise. For cultivators, time is the most valuable thing.”

The spiritual energy gathering in the Ox Mountain area was due to the old Daoist using heaven-defying techniques to move all the spiritual energy of Lotus Root Paradise, which was extraordinary and rare. However, the three types of immortal coins from the banished immortals were the embodiment of the spiritual energy of heaven and earth. Yu Zhenyi, who was focused on achieving the Dao and longevity, urgently needed this item, and only he could afford the price.

Yu Zhenyi pointed to the glazed flying sword behind him, “Chen Ping’an, besides using this sword to exchange for immortal coins, I can also personally help you collect the relics of the banished immortals scattered in Lotus Root Paradise. I can even help you obtain the newly acquired magical treasures of Tang Tieyi, Cloud Mud Monk, and others. Moreover, you are a pure martial artist. The Devil Sect’s three gates and Tong Qingqing’s Mirror Heart Hermitage have collected a large number of martial arts secrets. Perhaps there are some that you might like.”

Chen Ping’an asked, “Your entry into the capital this time must have been to find me first to discuss this deal. I can be sure that you, Yu Zhenyi, sincerely want to complete this transaction, but you also want to use this opportunity to suppress National Preceptor Zhong, right? Once I agree, National Preceptor Zhong and the Southern Garden Kingdom will be under pressure. Furthermore, your so-called personally helping me collect martial arts secrets is nothing more than using the names of the number one and number two in the world to suppress the entire martial world, allowing you to search for those remnants of the banished immortals’ magic? Otherwise, even with your strength, Yu Zhenyi, you wouldn’t dare to defy the world’s expectations. After all, the martial maniac Zhu Lian and the Devil Sect’s Ding Ying are both cautionary tales.”

Yu Zhenyi did not deny it and nodded, “But you will still benefit from it, and from beginning to end, you don’t need to show your face. I will be the villain.”

Chen Ping’an drew out the narrow blade Stopping Snow.

Yu Zhenyi’s glazed flying sword behind him buzzed and trembled, also preparing to be unsheathed.

His face was gloomy. He did not expect that this Chen Ping’an would be so unreasonable.

But then, Chen Ping’an used the tip of his blade to pierce two small holes in the ground, and then drew an arc between the two points. After sheathing his blade, he asked, “The initial intention is good, and the result you hope for is also good, but is that your reason for acting unscrupulously?”

Yu Zhenyi glanced at the arc under Chen Ping’an’s feet, retracted his gaze, and said calmly, “Those who want to achieve great things don’t dwell on trivial matters. Today’s loss is tomorrow’s gain, and there is a distinction between large and small, and the difference is extremely large. Yu Zhenyi has a clear conscience, why not do it? During this period, a few people on the list died, a dozen people? What does it matter? Do you know how many tens of thousands of people in this world have died unjustly in history because of the banished immortals? Not to mention those tragic wars, just the ten people on the list you have seen, like Zhou Fei of the Spring Tide Palace, how many people did he harm?”

Chen Ping’an nodded and said, “I have read many books. I wouldn’t dare say I know everything, but I know a lot. Just the names of the wars that may have been caused by the banished immortals in history, I can list more than sixty right now.”

Yu Zhenyi stopped talking.

Those who walk different paths cannot make plans together.

Chen Ping’an hesitated for a moment, squatted down, and added two lines with his finger, a straight line, and one located between the arc and the straight line, with a smaller curvature.

After Chen Ping’an stood up, “I don’t demand that you, Yu Zhenyi, be a moral saint, and I don’t have that ability. It’s hard to say if you are wrong right now, but putting those aside, I won’t make a deal with you. I have immortal coins, and a lot, but I won’t sell you a single one.”

Yu Zhenyi narrowed his eyes, “Oh?”

Chen Ping’an laughed, “What, unhappy? Good, then I’m quite happy now.”

Yu Zhenyi suddenly smiled, “I hope we meet again.”

The glazed flying sword instantly unsheathed and hovered at his feet. Stepping onto the flying sword, he prepared to fly away from the capital of the Southern Garden Kingdom.

As for Zhong Qiu, there was no need to look for him. As Chen Ping’an had revealed, only if Chen Ping’an agreed would there be a chance to persuade Zhong Qiu.

Yu Zhenyi’s flying sword had just risen one zhang into the air when he heard the man laughing and saying, “Shorty, it’s better if we don’t meet again.”

Yu Zhenyi’s murderous aura suddenly surged, turning the tip of his sword and staring coldly at the young, insulting banished immortal.

Chen Ping’an looked calm and asked, “You, Yu Zhenyi, feel greatly humiliated by being called a shorty? You cultivated the Dao, became an immortal, is that so great?”

Chen Ping’an’s hands were already pressing on the hilts of the Infatuation Sword and Stopping Snow Blade.

Yu Zhenyi snorted coldly, ascended on his sword, and turned into a rainbow streaking across the sky.

Chen Ping’an turned around and walked back into the alley. The fellow who had been peeking had quickly turned around and ran.

The little girl ran away while regretting that it would be great if the two of them fought to the death.

Chen Ping’an returned to the courtyard, closed the door. Near the kitchen door, the little girl was sitting on a stool, tilting her head and pretending to be asleep, while Cao Qinglang had already turned off the lights and gone to bed. Chen Ping’an entered the house, took off his sword and blade, and began to flip through books, looking at matters related to bridge construction.

After that, everything was peaceful. The capital of the Southern Garden Kingdom was like this, and the entire world seemed to be the same, slowly transitioning from the last solar term of summer to the beginning of autumn amidst Chen Ping’an’s book-reading.
The old Daoist hadn’t sought him out, leaving Chen Ping’an no choice but to wait.

His hometown’s Li Zhu Grotto-Heaven, it had once been a pearl suspended in the sky above the Great Li territory.

And the shattered, dilapidated Yellow Millet Blessed Land atop Upside-Down Mountain, a place where even immortals struggled to find the entrance. Heaven only knew what sort of place the Lotus Root Flower Blessed Land was, or where it resided within Tongye Continent.

The village school near the alleyway still hadn’t opened its doors.

That scrawny little girl, stubbornly clinging to this place, had at least learned to haul water and sweep the yard daily, though she still cut corners whenever possible, shirking her duties whenever she could.

Generally speaking, after the Beginning of Autumn, common folk would begin to anticipate the Mid-Autumn Festival and the full moon. Children, especially, would eagerly await the day, counting down the days with their fingers. Families would reunite, eating mooncakes, gazing at the large, round disc hanging in the sky, filled with laughter and joy.

This night, as Chen Ping’an was enjoying the cool evening air in the courtyard, he suddenly realized that he, Cao Qinglang, and the little girl all seemed to have no anticipation for the upcoming Mid-Autumn Festival.

However, Cao Qinglang had been smiling more often lately. At times, he would find the little girl, with her tongue as poisonous as arsenic, truly annoying. But after the annoyance passed, he would still interact with her as before, holding no grudges. Occasionally, he would even bicker with her a few times, but Cao Qinglang was no match for her. Once, she had even made his eyes redden with her sharp words, his lips trembling with anger. Yet, when she asked him for melon seeds that very night, Cao Qinglang silently brought them out for her, saying that these were all that remained. She retorted with, “If they’re gone, go buy some more! You’re such a big guy, do I have to teach you how to buy things?” This caused Cao Qinglang to be sullen for a long time, not speaking to her for the entire evening. The little girl, however, didn’t care in the slightest. She munched on melon seeds, chatting with him regardless of whether he responded or not, only saying what she wanted to say. Cao Qinglang rolled his eyes, and finally, unable to bear it any longer, went inside to read, summoning up his courage to glare at her. But when she glared back, making a move as if she were going to pick up a bench to beat him, he became so frightened that he quickly ran inside and slammed the door.

Peeking from the window, Cao Qinglang saw Chen Ping’an glance at the wicked girl. She quickly sat up straight and explained, “I was just playing with Cao Qinglang. We’re very good friends!”

Cao Qinglang smiled happily and began to read by the lamplight.

This was the real reason Chen Ping’an hadn’t driven the little girl away.

One morning, it suddenly began to rain. The little girl, carrying a half-bucket of water, whether from the well or collected rainwater, wore a flattering expression as she returned to the courtyard and told Chen Ping’an that the village school had opened.

This day, Chen Ping’an, holding a oiled-paper umbrella, accompanied Cao Qinglang to the school.

The two walked along the alley.

The scrawny little girl, who had been sheltering from the rain under the eaves, ran to the courtyard gate. She saw Chen Ping’an holding the umbrella, subtly tilting it more towards Cao Qinglang. They seemed to be chatting, with Cao Qinglang doing most of the talking, and Chen Ping’an smiling gently, watching him.

She stood at the courtyard gate for a long time.