Perhaps it was an illusion, but Cao Qinglang always felt time was passing swiftly. Before, it was a mighty river, flowing slowly; now, it was a mountain stream, gurgling rapidly, even allowing one to hear the sound of rushing water.

In the blink of an eye, autumn departed and winter arrived. This year’s first snow came unexpectedly, falling in goose feather flakes. Cao Qinglang, waking in the early morning, sat on his bed and gazed out the window at the vast expanse of snow, stunned into disbelief. He hastily put on his clothes and shoes and pushed open the door. His first impulse was to tell that person, “It’s snowing heavily!” But looking at the door of the side room, Cao Qinglang scratched his head, finally remembering that the person had been gone for a long time. Yet, he often felt that the person would be sitting on the small wooden stool in the courtyard, whether in the early morning or late at night. As soon as he stepped outside, he would see him, saying little, just smiling and looking at him.

“Hopefully, this auspicious snow heralds a bountiful year.”

Cao Qinglang raised his hand and breathed into it, feeling the cold. He needed to add another layer of clothing. He retreated back into the house, added a garment, and sat upright at a small wooden table made by his father. He opened a book and began to recite the words of the sages.

In late autumn, the academy had replaced a teaching instructor with one who was more strict and seemed to possess greater learning. He explained the principles clearly and plainly, so even the classmates at the academy who disliked studying the most could understand. He was quite remarkable.

Cao Qinglang finished reciting, rubbing his hands to warm them. He was a little worried; the family didn’t have much money left.

After his parents passed away, the government had provided a sum of compensation silver, but it wasn’t given to him all at once. Instead, the yamen delivered money to him regularly each month, handing it directly to him.

Cao Qinglang didn’t think much about it, assuming that all government affairs were handled in this way. Moreover, he had no relatives in the capital of the Nanyuan Kingdom, and now that his parents were gone, he had to figure out how to manage money carefully. The days when he could just ask his elders for whatever he wanted to eat or buy were over. Every copper coin had to be spent with utmost care. This kind of life wasn’t easy, but he had no choice; he had to keep going.

Fortunately, during his most difficult time, that person had lived in his house, giving Cao Qinglang, who was lonely guarding this residence, something to look forward to.

Cao Qinglang changed into a pair of yellow deerskin boots suitable for walking in rain and snow. However, as he put on the boots, Cao Qinglang began to cry. His mother had bought these on New Year’s Eve. What about this year?

Fortunately, Cao Qinglang quickly composed himself. He went to the kitchen, ate a light meal, and prepared to go to the academy. However, as he packed his books, Cao Qinglang was lost in thought. That person had promised to make him a small bamboo box when he had the time. The books said that a gentleman keeps his word, a promise worth a thousand pieces of gold. So, he must truly have an urgent matter. He just didn’t know when they would meet again.

Cao Qinglang picked up an oiled paper umbrella, slung his bag over his shoulder, and walked out of the courtyard. He was surprised to see a familiar figure passing by outside the gate. It was actually Master Zhong from the academy, a very unusual surname. The old instructor was dressed in a blue robe, also holding an oiled paper umbrella. Seeing Cao Qinglang, he stopped and asked, “What a coincidence, you live here?”

Cao Qinglang wanted to put down his umbrella to bow to Master Zhong, who happened to be passing by his house. However, Master Zhong waved his hand and said, “No need, it’s snowing heavily.”

Master Zhong was learned, but when he taught and imparted knowledge, he was stern and never smiled. Everyone was quite afraid of him, and Cao Qinglang was no exception, though he held him in even greater respect than his classmates did. So, when the academy instructor said that there was no need to bow, Cao Qinglang instinctively obeyed. Then, the old and the young, each holding an umbrella, walked along the snow-covered alley.

Master Zhong had naturally heard about Cao Qinglang’s family situation. After all, at the academy, many of the children from the neighborhood were his playmates and classmates. He noticed the way people looked at Cao Qinglang differently and the whispers behind his back. Cao Qinglang just pretended not to see or hear. So, the old man asked, “Now that you’re living alone, do you have any difficulties?”

Cao Qinglang smiled and shook his head, saying, “No, sir.”

His answer was precise and his demeanor and phrasing were unlike those of a child from a humble alleyway. No wonder the thin little girl had mocked him as a little Confucian scholar.

The old man nodded and said, “You’re still young. If you truly encounter an insurmountable obstacle, you can tell me. Don’t feel embarrassed. Life is full of difficulties, both in books and outside of them. It’s not just you; even I, at my age, still have times when I need to ask for help.”

Cao Qinglang hummed in acknowledgement. “Sir, I understand. If I truly have a difficult matter, I will seek you out.”

After a moment of hesitation, Cao Qinglang said somewhat shyly, “Someone once told me something similar to what you said when he took me to the academy. He told me that when I study and make a living alone in the future, it’s inevitable that I will need to ask for help. If others don’t help, I shouldn’t resent them, and if they do help, I must remember it.”

Master Zhong smiled for the first time, “Was that person named Chen Ping’an?”

Cao Qinglang was astonished. “Sir, you know him?”

Master Zhong nodded. “He is a friend of mine. However, I didn’t expect you two to know each other.”

Cao Qinglang was immediately happy.

Chen Ping’an was Master Zhong’s friend!

Master Zhong put on a stern face and scolded, “Don’t think that just because you have this connection, I won’t punish you if you don’t study hard.”

Cao Qinglang quickly nodded.

The old and the young, the instructor and the student, walked on the main street that the government had already repaired, walking laboriously and slowly. Cao Qinglang became a little bolder and asked the master how he had met Chen Ping’an. Master Zhong only said that they were like-minded and that although they hadn’t known each other for long, they were indeed worthy of being called friends.

The heavy snow fell on the world, unwilling to stop. Cao Qinglang’s heart was warm as he walked with the master to the entrance of the academy. He turned his head to look.

The last time they met, at their parting, that person had stood there and stopped, saying those words. Then, with one hand holding an umbrella, he watched him enter the academy.

Master Zhong turned his head from ahead and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Cao Qinglang shook his head, smiled brightly, turned, and quickly walked into the academy.

Master Zhong sat down in the classroom. After all the young students had arrived, he began to impart his knowledge.

The old instructor’s temples were frosted with white. Dressed in a green robe, speaking slowly, he possessed a majestic aura akin to that of a sage when he spoke of the principles of the sages to the young children.

In a deep courtyard within the capital city of the Nanyuan Kingdom, a scholar’s family resided. The family’s private library was quite famous in the capital. Today, a young man of humble birth was ascending the stairs to read. He often came here to peruse the books. However, because the books were precious, the family rules not only prohibited bringing candles upstairs and taking books out, but also many rare and ancient books in wooden boxes were sealed with labels, and no one was allowed to open them without permission.
Today, the young man was filled with grief and indignation, his heart heavy. He came here not to read, but to seek a tranquil haven to soothe his troubled mind.

He had passed both the county and prefecture examinations, open to all scholars in the capital, earning the title of “Child Scholar.” However, his performance was not outstanding, failing to secure the prestigious “Flowering Talent” degree. This filled him with remorse towards his mother. His two elder brothers, also participating in the examinations, had effortlessly become Flowering Talents. The young man, known for his supposed “prodigy” status, was perplexed. He couldn’t understand why his brothers, whose essays were mediocre and knowledge far inferior to his own, had achieved better results. He initially attributed it to his own poor performance on the day, while his brothers had simply excelled. But today, he had inadvertently overheard his two drunken brothers revealing the secrets behind their success. They had divulged that their father had privately bribed the examiners.

Their grandfather, a former Minister of Rites in the capital, was a renowned figure with countless disciples. He had presided over numerous imperial examinations in the Southern Garden Kingdom. The chief examiners of the capital’s county and prefecture examinations would respectfully address their grandfather as “Mentor” or “Examiner,” a powerful “teacher-student” relationship in the officialdom. The young man firmly believed that his grandfather would never engage in such sordid affairs. It must have been his brothers’ father, using his grandfather’s name, who had compromised the family’s honor for personal gain.

This would have been tolerable if the young man was not a mere concubine’s son. Born into a noble family, he was well aware of the intrigues within the officialdom. However, according to his brothers’ boastful conversations, their father had deliberately suppressed him, snatching away the Flowering Talent degree that was rightfully his. Standing on the top floor of the library, surrounded by shelves and books, the young man smiled bitterly. In this renowned scholarly family in the capital, besides him, a son born of a concubine, how many of his peers were still willing to come here and read? So many precious books, year after year, were left gathering dust, unvisited. Was it not a pity?

The young man raised the back of his hand and wiped away his tears. “What’s the use of reading? ‘Jade trees in the courtyard’ my ass…”

After venting his frustrations, the young man still began to look for books. The provincial examination still awaited, and the Confucian classics still needed to be studied. Even if he wasn’t reading for himself, or seeking fame and fortune, he couldn’t disappoint his mother again. However, feeling restless today, he decided to browse through a book outside the classics. After searching through the shelves, he finally picked out a nearly brand-new scholar’s notebook in a corner of the library. Then, the young man paused. As soon as he opened the first page, he felt something was amiss. He flicked open a page and found a coin inside. It was slightly different from the Southern Garden Kingdom’s standard copper coins. The seal script was unfamiliar, and it wasn’t made of copper or iron, but something like jade, crystalline and translucent.

The coin was sandwiched between the pages, leaving slight imprints on both sides. At the imprint, there was a well-known saying that every scholar knew, but not everyone believed:

“Within books, there are houses of gold; within books, there are faces of jade; within books, there are thousands of bushels of grain.”

The young man was puzzled. He hesitated for a long time, then quietly slipped it into his sleeve, intending to take it back and show it to his mother.

Little did he know that this act would almost lead to disaster. Later, while studying at home, he took it out and caressed it in his palm. His brother accidentally saw it and falsely accused him of stealing his desk ornament, causing a great commotion and alarming his grandfather, who had been indifferent to worldly affairs for many years. Afterwards, the old Minister, who had long been devoted to Taoist arts, took back the coin. On the same day, he mobilized all the trusted stewards of the mansion and spent two days and one night meticulously searching through the library’s vast collection of books. But to no avail, they couldn’t find a second coin.

The old Minister ordered everyone to leave the library and forbade anyone from spreading the word, or they would be expelled from the family. The old man pondered alone in the library for a long time, then found his grandson, who was trembling with fear. He took the young man back to the library and handed him the scholar’s notebook that had contained the coin. He smiled and said, “If there were two such coins, you wouldn’t have this opportunity. Keep it. It was meant to be yours. From now on, focus on your studies. All the books in this library are open to you. You can take them out and read them.”

The young man, who had unexpectedly benefited from misfortune, took the book, completely bewildered.

The old Minister then revealed a secret, saying earnestly, “In the previous dynasty, the two young scholars who were child prodigies and rose rapidly through the ranks in the imperial examinations both had poor reputations, and one of them even ruined his reputation in his later years. Therefore, this dynasty is deeply wary of this. This time, your failure to become a Flowering Talent was not your uncle’s doing. He doesn’t have that malicious intent, nor does he dare to. I’m not dead yet. It was actually my intention, to suppress you and temper your character, so that you can accumulate strength and develop steadily in the officialdom. Ultimately, the officialdom is not like playing chess. Making a beautiful first move may not be a good thing in this dynasty.”

After the excited young man left, the old man turned around and took out another book. There were also imprints in it, but no coin. However, at the imprint, there was a saying from the sages: “A noble man is like something cut, something filed, something chiseled, something polished.”

Because there was only one coin, the young man had unknowingly possessed all the good fortune.

There was providence in the dark.

This even made the old Minister, who yearned for immortal arts, dare not snatch it.

The old man, who had spent most of his life navigating the treacherous seas of officialdom, with heartfelt respect and admiration, exclaimed, “The transcendent expert is truly a divine being.”

On the mountain road, Chen Ping’an made himself a large bamboo box. In theory, besides the cotton cloth package, it could hold many items, but Chen Ping’an still made Pei Qian carry the package and the green bamboo fishing rod, and also made her a walking stick, small and handy.

Afterwards, along the winding mountain paths and rivers, Chen Ping’an seemed to have changed from his initial hurried pace, eager to leave Tongye Continent and return to his hometown in Baoping Continent, to settling down again. However, this tormented the poor little girl Pei Qian, who grumbled incessantly. However, compared to her direct and cutting words when they first met, perhaps because she had read some books, or perhaps because she was afraid that Chen Ping’an would get angry and abandon her, even her complaints had become roundabout.

Chen Ping’an always turned a deaf ear to this, making Pei Qian even more resentful.

Along the way, the two witnessed many sights that broadened Pei Qian’s horizons. For example, one autumn night, they encountered countless fireflies, like small lanterns hanging everywhere. Taking advantage of Chen Ping’an’s inattention, she used her walking stick to beat them to death. As soon as Chen Ping’an turned his head, she would immediately stop and pretend to be focused on hurrying on.
They also traversed a bizarre and eerie forest. The soil was fertile, and the branches of the trees stretched out, laden with the desiccated corpses of various birds and beasts.

Little Pei Qian, terrified, clutched at Chen Ping’an’s sleeve, only then daring to walk. Before entering the forest, Chen Ping’an took out a Yang Energy Lamp-Lighting Talisman and tossed it into the woods. The ordinary talisman immediately burst into flames, though it burned slowly. Chen Ping’an strode directly into the forest. Pei Qian begged Chen Ping’an for a talisman as a protective charm, but Chen Ping’an turned a deaf ear, telling her that if she feared those oddities, she should loudly recite her lessons. The principles of the Sages, he said, could ward off evil.

Pei Qian was skeptical but still gripped Chen Ping’an’s sleeve tightly, while striving to recite the contents of that book.

In truth, that Confucian classic was quite thin. She recognized all the characters, and had finished reading the book. Pei Qian had long wanted to exchange it for something fresh, not to be forced to read the same book over and over again, it was too dull. However, Chen Ping’an stubbornly refused, making her read it again and again, and not just read it silently, but aloud. At dawn, when he practiced his Sword Hearth Stance, she had to begin reading; at dusk, when he still practiced his stance, she still had to read. In the end, she truly memorized every chapter backward and forward.

By the time the two emerged from the dense forest, there had been no unusual movements.

Pei Qian was covered in sweat, exhausted from reciting the book. Her throat was hoarse.

Only after they had walked more than a dozen *li* did the trees begin to sway wildly, as if venting their anger.

Afterward, they passed through a mountain valley where colorful butterflies fluttered beside a pool beneath a waterfall, dazzling the eyes.

While Chen Ping’an was cooking, Pei Qian, with lightning speed, killed more than a dozen butterflies, choosing the most beautiful one and slapping it into the pages of her book. As a result, she received a solid flick on the forehead from Chen Ping’an, which hurt so much that she crouched on the ground, wailing and clutching her head, her forehead red and swollen. She wore a sullen expression throughout the meal.

The two also encountered a woodcutter descending the mountain, and even shared a meal with his family. Chen Ping’an wanted to offer some money, but the simple, honest family refused, no matter how he insisted. Chen Ping’an had no choice but to give up. Before leaving the fenced yard, he told Pei Qian to thank them. Pei Qian, who had eaten plenty of rice, was reluctant, but after inadvertently catching a glimpse of Chen Ping’an’s gaze, she obediently bowed and thanked them.

The two left the continuous mountain range and came to a great river. Pei Qian saw the trackers hauling large boats for the first time. Under the scorching sun, the men chanted in unison, leaving her dumbfounded. Then, she secretly chuckled, as if there were quite a few people in the world living miserably. But she quickly suppressed her smile, fearing that fellow would see it and she’d be in trouble again. Last time, just because she had gathered slightly less firewood, he had forced her, hungry as she was, to eat only a small bowl of rice. Alas, this Chen Ping’an was truly difficult to please. This rich young master deserved a beating. Once she secretly mastered a peerless sword technique with her walking stick, she would beat him until he cried for his parents! Then she would see how he dared to glare at her.

They ate what the mountains and rivers provided.

Walking along the riverbank, she suddenly wanted to fish, so she asked Chen Ping’an to make her a fishing rod, but he ignored her. Pei Qian had no choice but to take a wood-chopping knife and split a thick green bamboo. After felling it, she realized it was not a fishing rod, but a bamboo pole. Crestfallen, she chose a thin one. Fortunately, Chen Ping’an, that miserly old skinflint, wasn’t too unreasonable and gave her a fishhook and line. But while they both were fishing, not far from each other, Chen Ping’an had a steady stream of catches, even a carp as long as her arm. Yet she didn’t even get a nibble. Did even the creatures in the water look down on her, acting like dogs with low vision? She wanted to jump into the water and smash all the fish and shrimp in the river with her fishing rod.

But that night’s large pot of fish soup made Pei Qian beam with joy. Tentatively, she asked Chen Ping’an for three bowls of rice, saying that she had exhausted all her energy fishing today and needed to replenish it with rice. She would drink less fish soup and not snatch it from him. She thought he wouldn’t agree, but to her surprise, that fellow nodded. That filling meal, with fish soup poured over rice, was the most fragrant and delicious thing in the world! Anyway, she ate until her belly was round.

Later, she followed Chen Ping’an to fish once more, still haphazardly casting and reeling in her rod. As expected, the hook remained completely still.

That fellow, however, hooked a huge black carp. Just struggling with it took at least a quarter of an hour. Watching Chen Ping’an run back and forth along the shore, she rolled her eyes. Weren’t you a swordsman with immortal techniques? Wasn’t it beneath you to be toyed with by a stupid fish?

Looking at her own “unshakeable” fishing rod, she grumbled at those fellows hiding at the bottom of the water who wouldn’t give her any face. Pei Qian sighed deeply, feeling that she possessed great skills, but Heaven was against her, leaving her with no place to use them.

So she decided to never fish again in her life. After spending so much patience and effort, without any results, why do it?

That afternoon, Chen Ping’an, unusually, talked to her about some fishing techniques.

She understood the principles, but Pei Qian still didn’t want to learn his way of fishing. But Chen Ping’an said that next time they went fishing, he would personally teach her, and only then did she not throw away her fishing rod.

She tentatively said, “Fish soup is delicious, but eating it every meal is a bit tiring. How about we eat something else?”

Chen Ping’an replied, “Okay, you go find something.”

Pei Qian feigned ignorance, “I’m too young and weak, I don’t have the strength.”

The next day, Chen Ping’an didn’t use his own fishing rod, but took Pei Qian’s. After waiting for a long time, ignoring the nibbling of small fish, he suddenly raised the rod when a fish weighing about seven or eight pounds bit the hook. The fishing rod bent into a beautiful arc, perfectly timed. Pei Qian, who had been yawning on the side, immediately widened her eyes. Chen Ping’an told her to quickly take the rod and let her deal with the big fish. Pei Qian jumped up and took the rod, and what happened next made Chen Ping’an unable to bear to watch.

Clutching the fishing rod tightly with both hands, relying on the strong, thick, and unreasonable green bamboo pole, the little girl gritted her teeth and, without a word, began to pull back with all her might. Pei Qian didn’t listen to a word of the methods Chen Ping’an had told her before, such as slowly playing the fish, reeling in and releasing the line, not rushing to let the big fish see the light, gradually draining the fish’s strength, and letting it choke on water a few times. She just wanted to rely on brute force to drag it ashore.

A leisurely fishing trip was turned into a tug-of-war by Pei Qian.
The fish was sizable, and in its element in the water. Moreover, it was a spirited grass carp. Conversely, Pei Qian’s strength was not great. With a careless stumble, the frail little girl was nearly dragged into the river, rod and all, by the large fish. She had once mocked Chen Ping’an’s nonsensical claim that fish could drown. Now, it was Pei Qian choking on water. Unable to swim, she stubbornly refused to release her grip.

In the end, Chen Ping’an hauled her ashore, the fishing rod having been snatched away by the fish.

This time, Pei Qian did not wail with heart-rending sobs. The drenched girl stood on the bank, mouth agape, silently weeping.

The fish was gone, the fish soup for tonight was lost, and so was the fishing rod. Even knowing that they had dried provisions, that she wouldn’t starve, that there would be food, she herself didn’t know why she was so grief-stricken.

Chen Ping’an wiped the tears and river water from her face, but offered no comfort.

He simply recalled his own childhood, before he met Liu Xianyang, who was skilled in angling. He lacked the know-how, unable to pick the right time or location. His fishing expeditions often ended in failure. Under the blazing sun, an afternoon could leave his skin stinging. He probably felt much the same way then.

Later, the meal naturally consisted only of pickled vegetables and rice.

After changing into dry clothes in the small tent, Pei Qian remained sullen during dinner. Chen Ping’an smiled and asked, “Where did you suddenly find so much courage? Weren’t you afraid of drowning in the river?”

Squatting beside him, Pei Qian hunched over her rice bowl, muttering, “Because you were there.”

Chen Ping’an rewarded her with a flick to the forehead. Pei Qian abruptly looked up, indignant. “Why did you hit me for that? I’m already heartbroken!”

Chen Ping’an chuckled. “Eat your food.”

Pei Qian harrumphed and turned to stare at the river. Her self-made fishing rod, gone after all that effort. A touch of melancholy washed over her.

Chen Ping’an said, “My fishing rod, I’ll give it to you.”

Pei Qian was somewhat doubtful. Seeing that he wasn’t joking, she grinned. “Then I’ll borrow it from you often to go fishing. I’m generous, you know.”

Chen Ping’an was amused.

Why couldn’t she apply this cleverness to reading and writing?

Only when the night was still and she was fast asleep would Chen Ping’an quietly practice the Six Stance Walking and proper swordsmanship while standing guard.

They passed through a small town, replenishing their supplies. Chen Ping’an bought her a new outfit, which Pei Qian received with unrestrained joy. That night, they slept in a small inn. It had been a long time since Pei Qian had slept in a proper bed, and she gleefully rolled around on it. But suddenly, she noticed something at the window, a white cat curled up, staring at her.

Pei Qian jumped off the bed, yelling, “Rebellion! You dare glare at me?” She grabbed the hiking staff leaning against the table and went to poke at the white cat.

The white cat lived up to her words, as if truly staging a revolt. Instead of being startled and fleeing, it spun and leaped on the windowsill, nimbly dodging the attacks of the hiking staff. Occasionally, it hissed softly at Pei Qian. Panting, Pei Qian leaned on the hiking staff, eyes wide. “What manner of demon?! Quickly announce your name! I might spare your life!”

Pei Qian was, of course, only joking.

But the white cat actually “glanced” at her and spoke in human tongue, “Mad little girl, are you daft?”

Turning around, it leapt and vanished.

Terrified, Pei Qian dropped the hiking staff and rushed to vigorously knock on the door next to theirs.

When Chen Ping’an opened the door, Pei Qian stammered, “There was a cat just now, it could talk!”

Chen Ping’an nodded. “I heard it.”

Seeing Chen Ping’an’s lack of surprise, Pei Qian was stunned. “This isn’t in the deep mountains, are there still demons here?”

Chen Ping’an sat back at the table, resuming his perusal of the divine tome purchased from Upside-Down Mountain, and nodded. “In cities and towns, there are often spirits and demons. It’s not uncommon. Most don’t disturb the world. Some wealthy families even keep many interesting spirits. For example, some rich ladies will have many little creatures with wings in their dowry that can fly in the air, like maids and servants, able to help their mistress dress and apply makeup.”

Pei Qian dejectedly sat opposite him, leaning on the table. “Won’t that scare people to death? I was almost scared out of my wits just now.”

Chen Ping’an smiled. “The world is vast, and nothing is beyond belief. When you’ve traveled through more mountains and rivers, you’ll become accustomed to such things.”

Pei Qian sighed. “Is that so?”

Chen Ping’an casually said, “The old man we saw brewing tea with spring water on the mountaintop and the woman washing her hair by the stream were actually mountain spirits. They had no intention of harming anyone, but instead yearned for the life of the mortal world. Weren’t you chatting with them quite congenially?”

Pei Qian was dumbfounded.

The old man was kind and amiable, and the pretty lady who had washed her hair even played her a tune on a leaf flute!

Pei Qian frowned, a shiver running down her spine.

Chen Ping’an smiled. “They were the only ones who weren’t human. Everyone else we’ve met has been just like us.”

Along the way, they had indeed encountered local officials urging the people to build roads and bridges, pleasure-seeking sons of high-ranking families and famous scholars, and the courtesans who caught Pei Qian’s eye, decked out as if they were walking money bags. There was also a lone swordsman traveling the world with his horse, sitting high in the saddle, haughtily asking Chen Ping’an for directions, which infuriated Pei Qian.

Pei Qian suddenly asked, “What about the little one?”

She was referring to the lotus doll.

Chen Ping’an smiled. “It doesn’t want to see you.”

Pei Qian stood up and went to her room, taking the book from her bundle and returning to Chen Ping’an’s side, reading with him.

She was temporarily too afraid to go back to her room, fearing that the white cat might return for revenge. Her swordsmanship was still insufficient; she wasn’t confident enough to slay demons and vanquish evil yet.

Chen Ping’an closed his book and quietly took out the painting. He had already spent nine Grain Rain coins on it, but still failed to entice the founding emperor of the Southern Garden Kingdom to step out of the painting. This made Chen Ping’an feel somewhat helpless.

Chen Ping’an unrolled the painting, holding a Grain Rain coin in his hand.

This was the last one. If there were still no results, he would have to give up.

He, Chen Ping’an, wasn’t made of money. He couldn’t simply throw Grain Rain coins into a bottomless pit.

But when Chen Ping’an “threw” the Grain Rain coin into the painting, it still vanished without a trace. The fog still rose, but that was all.
Pei Qian had already set aside the rather worn and creased book and stood next to Chen Ping’an. She didn’t deliberately conceal her knowledge of the matter, so she had witnessed the scene of the painting “eating” money many times. Seeing Chen Ping’an’s repeated disappointment, she giggled, “Would it be better if I changed my surname to Zheng?”

Pei Qian, Losing Money. Zheng Qian, Earning Money.

Chen Ping’an sighed and was about to put away the painting.

Turning his head to look towards the opened window for ventilation, there stood a white cat. It didn’t look at Chen Ping’an, but sneered at Pei Qian, “Little brat, go eat shit.”

Then, in a flash, it disappeared to the neighboring table and dropped a turd.

Pei Qian was utterly bewildered. Chen Ping’an found it both amusing and exasperating. It really held a grudge, just like Pei Qian herself.

Suddenly, Chen Ping’an felt a chill run down his spine. He stood up abruptly and pulled Pei Qian behind him.

A small Daoist priest with a huge golden gourd slung across his back sat on the windowsill, smiling at Chen Ping’an. The white cat jumped onto his shoulder and curled up.

Chen Ping’an had caught a glimpse of this small Daoist priest from afar in the capital of Southern Garden Kingdom. Later, after talking with Zhong Qiu, he knew the approximate identity of this fellow, who referred to the old Daoist as “my Old Master” and was responsible for the drum-beating ascension in the Lotus Root Blessing Land.

The small Daoist priest glanced at the sword-nurturing gourd at Chen Ping’an’s waist and scoffed, “The quality is so-so, not even close to the best. It’s far inferior to my sword-nurturing gourd.”

Chen Ping’an asked expressionlessly, “What do you want?”

The small Daoist priest began speaking to himself, “Doesn’t your Treasure Bottle洲 have two of the best sword-nurturing gourds? How come you didn’t get your hands on them?”

Before the downfall of Immortal Su Jia of the Righteous Sun Mountain, she once possessed a purple-gold gourd.

The Land Sword Immortal Wei Jin of the Wind and Snow Temple also had a silver-white sword-nurturing gourd, which later came into A Liang’s possession, and was then given to Li Bao Ping.

The small Daoist priest propped himself up on the windowsill, swinging his legs. “There are seven sword-nurturing gourds in the world, grown from a gourd vine personally planted by the Dao Ancestor. They are the rarest, capable of nurturing the most flying swords, forming them the fastest, making them the most indestructible, the sharpest, and the best at nourishing the master’s body. The flying swords are the smallest, truly killing without a trace. As for the last one, which is the one I’m carrying, do you know its mystery?”

Chen Ping’an didn’t answer.

Pei Qian hid behind Chen Ping’an, very curious but afraid to peek.

Seeing that Chen Ping’an was playing dumb, the small Daoist priest felt bored. With the white cat on his shoulder, he leaped lightly down from the windowsill, walked to the table, and pointed to the rolled-up painting. “My Old Master wants me to give you a message. He felt a little bad about helping you choose five people and hurriedly sending you away, so he made an exception and asked me to tell you something. First, keep the oil-paper umbrella safe and don’t throw it away carelessly. With it by your side, your aura will be concealed. Second, about the first painting you chose, I will remind you once, and only once, directly telling you the number of Valley Rain Coins required. For example, this painting with Wei Xian in it is…”

He smiled and held out both hands.

The white cat on his shoulder lazily raised a paw. The small Daoist priest chuckled, “It’s eleven coins.”

At this point, the small Daoist priest felt a bit regretful and a bit gleeful. The total number of Valley Rain Coins required for the four paintings was decided by the old Daoist, but the specific amount to be allocated to each one was his arrangement. These secrets, Chen Ping’an wouldn’t know. The small Daoist priest originally thought that Chen Ping’an would definitely choose the martial maniac Zhu Lian, then Chen Ping’an would be in for a hard time.

Unexpectedly, the lotus doll interfered, unintentionally helping Chen Ping’an choose Wei Xian.

Chen Ping’an asked, “Then why are you only telling me the amount now?”

The small Daoist priest smirked. “As long as I tell you the answer before you insert the last coin, it doesn’t count as breaking the rules, and my Old Master won’t blame me.”

Seeing that Chen Ping’an didn’t show any signs of being upset, the small Daoist priest became even more bored. He waved his hand. “That’s all. I hope we don’t have the chance to meet again in the future. Seeing you annoys me.”

Chen Ping’an didn’t take it to heart and asked, “Are there any immortal ferries going to Treasure Bottle洲 recently?”

The small Daoist priest was unwilling to tell Chen Ping’an, but thinking about his Old Master’s temper, he had to report the location, not daring to be disrespectful.

Seeing the little head peeking out from behind Chen Ping’an, the small Daoist priest snorted coldly, seeming very displeased and unwilling to look at her again. With a leap, he disappeared without a trace from the window with the white cat on his shoulder.

Chen Ping’an reopened the painting and dropped in the eleventh Valley Rain Coin.

Without hesitation.

Mist filled the air, enveloping the entire room.

Chen Ping’an pulled Pei Qian back a few steps, about five or six steps away from the table. Chu Yi and Shi Wu in the sword-nurturing gourd were already on standby.

A short man in a dragon robe “rose from the ground” from the painting, stood on the table, then stepped onto the stool, and finally onto the ground. Looking at Chen Ping’an, this founding emperor of Southern Garden said with a straight face, “Wei Xian greets the master. From now on, I shall slay enemies at your command.”

Chen Ping’an nodded.

Then the two looked at each other in silence, the atmosphere stagnant and a bit awkward.

Wei Xian suddenly said, “Master has such a strong aura of dominance.”

Chen Ping’an was speechless.

Pei Qian felt that she had gained some knowledge. Good heavens, this guy is too shameless, isn’t he?

Wei Xian looked around and slowly said, “Does the master have any inconspicuous clothes? I’ll change into them, and then go out for a stroll tonight to appreciate the beautiful mountains and rivers of the vast world. Whenever the master sets off, I will appear.”

Chen Ping’an took out a set of brand-new clothes for him. Wei Xian took off the dragon robe, changed into Chen Ping’an’s simple clothes, propped himself up on the windowsill with one hand, leaped out, jumped onto the wall, and disappeared into the night.

Pei Qian asked, “What’s there to see in the beautiful mountains and rivers in the middle of the night?”

Chen Ping’an said helplessly, “How would I know what he’s thinking?”

Nothing happened overnight.

Pei Qian returned to her room and saw the turd on the table, making her grind her teeth in anger.

The next day, as they set off, Chen Ping’an and Wei Xian indeed appeared outside the inn.

After that, Wei Xian stopped talking.

Wei Xian was even shorter than Chen Ping’an. It was hard to imagine that this was a founding emperor, and also the number one grandmaster of that era, with extraordinary martial power, praised by later generations as a “ten-thousand-man enemy on the battlefield.”

Over time, Pei Qian became accustomed to Wei Xian’s existence, because she could just pretend he didn’t exist.
As winter waned, the trio approached a remote border town. Beyond lay the Great Spring Dynasty, a powerful force in Willow Leaf Continent. The immortal’s ferry crossing the young Daoist mentioned was situated at the northernmost tip of the Great Spring Dynasty.

Traversing the frontier, just before reaching the town, Pei Qian pleaded with Chen Ping’an, “Give me another talisman, please! The one that emits golden light. It whooshes and blocks that azure water buffalo.”

Chen Ping’an was lost in thought.

Pei Qian persisted, “It’s not like I’m asking you to give it away. I’ll just stick it to my forehead so I can walk faster. Please! We’re trying to make good time, aren’t we? Don’t you want me to walk faster, so we can get back to that Great Li Dragon Spring thing sooner?”

*Thwack*.

Sure enough, it was plastered onto Pei Qian’s forehead.

Still crooked, but just enough not to obstruct her vision.

Pei Qian instantly beamed. She had the mansion from the Southern Garden Kingdom’s capital plastered to her forehead, how could she possibly feel tired? Walking with it felt like strolling through her own grand estate.

Wei Xian, trailing behind the two, glanced at Pei Qian, his mood probably similar to that of the white cat, thinking this little brat was touched in the head.

Chen Ping’an, with the longsword ‘Obsession’ and the narrow blade ‘Halting Snow’ hanging at his waist, uncorked his gourd and took a swig of wine.

Wei Xian, initially walking with heavy steps, now moved with ease. Pei Qian noticed nothing amiss, but Chen Ping’an was keenly aware.

As the three ascended a hillside, they spotted dust billowing not far away. A hundred or so cavalrymen were fighting and retreating, with dozens of corpses littering the ground. These riders seemed to be desperately protecting an elderly man.

Chen Ping’an’s gaze was drawn to the two Qi Refinement cultivators pursuing the cavalry, one of whom was a sword cultivator.

Wei Xian, on the other hand, focused on the cavalry, a hint of admiration in his eyes. He muttered to himself, “Battle-hardened soldiers. Dismounted, they are elite infantry; mounted, they are iron cavalry. This must be the Yao family’s border army of the Great Spring Dynasty.”

Pei Qian, no longer intimidated by the diminutive man, questioned, “How do you know all this? Do you wander around just to find out about this stuff?”

Wei Xian ignored her, his gaze burning.

The Southern Garden Kingdom was once renowned for its iron cavalry, which had driven the steppe horsemen back beyond the borders, almost forcing them to pay tribute and acknowledge the Southern Garden Kingdom as their overlord.

Wei Xian was solely responsible for that achievement.

Chen Ping’an abruptly turned, asking in a deep voice, “The Yao family border army? Are you certain?”

Wei Xian wore a stony expression, not even deigning to speak, as it would be a waste of his breath.

The hillside shook. Chen Ping’an exploded into action, descending from the sky, effectively cutting off both the fleeing iron cavalry and the two Qi Refinement cultivators.

He had once promised Mister Qi, or rather, he had promised the single locust leaf that had deigned to fall into his palm.

And so, Chen Ping’an stopped upon encountering the Yao.