Ruan Xiu once again stowed away the “bracelet,” a seemingly exquisite and adorable fire dragon’s true form, coiled around her wrist, emitting faint snores. The battle at Mount Furong alone saw two Golden Core Earth Immortals, and she even devoured a young man blessed with martial fortune, making her somewhat overfed.

Ruan Xiu posed a question that caught Master Song off guard, “Could I move some Furong stone back to Longquan Prefecture? I’d like to open a shop selling seals and feng shui stones in the small town’s alleys.”

This Vice Minister Song, known for his nimble mind in the Great Li court, who once shared a celebrated anecdote of “thirty-seven questions and answers between the sovereign and subject within the time it takes an incense stick to burn” with His Majesty, was now struggling to keep up with Miss Ruan’s train of thought. After pondering for a moment, he smiled and said, “As long as Miss Ruan’s spatial treasure is large enough, even emptying Mount Furong would be no problem.”

Upon receiving the answer, Ruan Xiu immediately instructed Dong Gu and Xu Xiaoqiao to begin “excavating the mountain.” While the two junior siblings toiled like old farmers tilling the land, Ruan Xiu said to the old man, “Venerable Song, rest assured, your trip won’t be in vain. In Green Tung City by Book Brief Lake, and on the way back to Great Li, if we follow the original route, I’ll help you find three suitable candidates for cultivation. Added together, they’ll be about equal to… Xu Xiaoqiao, what was that kid’s name again?”

In the distance, Xu Xiaoqiao softly said, “Han Jin.”

Ruan Xiu nodded, “Right, someone no worse than this Han Jin. One is the grandson of the sesame cake seller near the Land God Temple in Green Tung City, the closest to us. Another is the little girl with the adorable rosy cheeks, to whom I gave a sugar figurine at the sugar-blowing stall in Sweet Dew Temple, Shihao Kingdom. And the last one is a local kid I met at the immortal ferry of Nianzhi Crossing when I was buying a large bag of yellow osmanthus persimmon cakes. He even challenged me to an eating contest, only to end up with a toothache, crying and running home to find his parents.”

The three Great Li Secret Emissaries were somewhat incredulous, wondering if she was joking.

Unexpectedly, Vice Minister Song nodded, “Once Master Dong and Miss Xu have mined enough Furong stone, we’ll return to the Land God Temple in Green Tung City first and find that child named Tong Shan.”

The Secret Emissaries immediately understood. Since even Vice Minister Song remembered the child’s name, it was evident that he was a promising jade of cultivation.

Ruan Xiu raised her head and looked towards Willow Palace Isle. As she made this movement, the fire dragon on her wrist, which had already intended to “hibernate,” opened its eyes and raised its head, looking in the same direction with her.

Certain descendants of ancient true dragons have an innate predilection for fratricide. In the history of the ancient Shu Kingdom, these ferocious beings were often the prime targets for roaming sword immortals to slay.

Xu Xiaoqiao suddenly said, “Eldest Sister, Master instructed us that, apart from official matters, Eldest Sister is not allowed to…”

Xu Xiaoqiao paused here, glancing at the black-robed youth Dong Gu.

This time at Mount Furong, the path to opening the mountain was forcibly broken by this fellow disciple, the Second Brother, who revealed his true form, suffering heavy injuries. Not only did he break a tusk, but he also lost at least forty to fifty years of cultivation.

Dong Gu, with a stern face, added the remaining two words that Xu Xiaoqiao dared not say, “Act rashly.”

Ruan Xiu looked around, somewhat regretful, “Then let’s shelve it for now.”

Dong Gu and Xu Xiaoqiao nodded in unison, and Master Song followed suit.

Ruan Xiu found their synchronized movements amusing and laughed, “What are you doing, pecking like chickens?”

Her laughter caused the Secret Emissary youth, who was already smitten with Ruan Xiu, to become mesmerized, lost in infatuation.

Inside Poolwater City, on Ape’s Cry Street, which specialized in selling immortal artifacts, an old man in a blue robe strolled along, his face ordinary, his bearing unremarkable, like a wealthy commoner. He repeatedly rubbed a snowflake coin between his fingers, looking around as he walked, browsing extensively but not buying anything. Fortunately, Ape’s Cry Street was full of strange people and oddities, and no one cared about such a tall, thin old man.

The old man stopped at a shop. The recently prosperous old shopkeeper was drinking a little wine, with two side dishes: salted peanuts and Book Brief Lake’s specialty, silverfish threads. Seeing the robed old man, the shopkeeper didn’t even bat an eye.

The old man seemed somewhat regretful and asked curiously, “Did the large imitation Qu Huang sword sell? Oh, the Portrait of a Lady sold too? Did you find a sucker?”

The old shopkeeper, guarding this ancestral shop, had a peculiar temperament and was not good at business. If it were an ordinary shopkeeper, they would have rolled their eyes or chased away such a tactless customer. But the old shopkeeper did the opposite, becoming interested, and said with a smile, “Indeed, the same customer, a foreigner, quite discerning. Not exactly a sucker, but a thousand gold pieces can’t buy what the heart desires.”

The old man clicked his tongue, “Not bad, not bad, your business acumen is far inferior to your great-grandfather’s, but your luck is much better. To think you could sell that, I thought it would gather dust for another hundred years or so.”

The old shopkeeper glanced at the stranger, “Big words. Which island lord immortal master from Book Brief Lake are you? Heh, unless I’m mistaken, all the slightly capable island lords are currently staying on Willow Palace Isle, where would they have the leisure to come here and play the old immortal.”

The old man worried, “Several hundred people eating, drinking, and relieving themselves on Willow Palace Isle must turn it into a cesspool.”

The old shopkeeper chuckled, “Those immortals who fly around are not like us commoners. Willow Palace Isle won’t turn into a latrine. Besides, after the conference ends, who cares what Willow Palace Isle becomes, such a messy graveyard of a place.”

The old man sighed, “I care quite a bit.”

The old shopkeeper found it increasingly interesting and beckoned, “Old fellow, care for a drink?”

The old man shook his head, “No better than swill, I won’t drink.”

The old shopkeeper laughed and scolded, “Giving good intentions for a donkey’s liver and lungs. Don’t drink then, but I like your bad temper. Look around the shop, anything you fancy, I’ll give you a ten percent discount.”

The old man waved his hand and walked out of the shop.

He strolled through the entire Ape’s Cry Street. It had been too long since he had returned to Book Brief Lake, and everything had changed. He could no longer see a familiar face. The old man walked out of Ape’s Cry Street and came to a quiet lane in Poolwater City. At the end, he took out a key and opened the courtyard gate. Inside was a hidden paradise.

No one lived there, but someone was responsible for maintaining it every so often, and they did so with great effort and care. Therefore, the winding corridors and deep courtyards of the tranquil mansion remained immaculate.

The old man came to a waterside pavilion, pushed open the window, and listened carefully. Spring water struck the rocks, creating a tinkling sound.
Approximately half an hour later, an unknown, portly old man from Poolside City arrived outside the waterside pavilion. He bowed respectfully and said, “Wang Guanfeng from Ungraded Lane pays respects to Ancestor Liu.”

The old man turned around and chuckled, “Are you the great-grandson of Wang Shibu from the Kingdom of Stone Bristle? Come in and sit. Your Wang family once did me a great service. You, the Wang clan of Poolside City who moved from Stone Bristle Kingdom, know my temperament better than many of the youngsters in Bookscroll Lake these days, so there’s no need to be so formal.”

The waterside pavilion was sparsely decorated, with only a few white futons placed on the floor. Wang Guanfeng, who was actually wealthier than the city lord of Poolside City, Fan, sat cautiously on a futon, not daring to presume upon the old man’s amiable demeanor.

The old man, surnamed Liu, inquired about the recent hundred years of Bookscroll Lake, and Wang Guanfeng answered each question in detail.

After listening to the recent events on Palace Willow Island, the old man Liu smiled and said, “From so far away as Bee Tail Ferry, I’ve heard of the formidable reputation of Liu Zhimao and Gu Can, master and disciple, from Azure Gorge Island.”

Wang Guanfeng carefully weighed his words before replying, “Currently, the Great Li Song Clan and the Vermilion Canopy Dynasty are locked in a contest of strength over Bookscroll Lake. We have placed our bets on Azure Gorge Island. The Vermilion Canopy Dynasty seems to have chosen an alliance of Azure Tomb, Celestial Mother, and Millet Isles, overseen by a ninth-realm sword cultivator from the Vermilion Canopy Dynasty’s imperial family, who has some connection to Oriole Island. However, this person’s current whereabouts are unknown. Within the Vermilion Canopy Dynasty, there seems to be disagreement on whether to win over or eliminate Gu Can, so no unified decision has been reached. Therefore, the assassination attempt in Poolside City previously was a major setback for a certain faction of the Vermilion Canopy Dynasty. Liu Zhimao himself remains in the Nascent Soul realm, showing no signs of breaking through. On the other hand, the draconic creature by Gu Can’s side has already entered the Nascent Soul stage and possesses terrifying combat power, even Liu Zhimao is wary of it, perhaps eventually leading to a situation where the tail wags the dog, and Liu and Gu split Bookscroll Lake. But all of this is the result of the ancestor standing by and watching.”

The old man asked with a smile, “That little devil named Gu Can, is he hailed as invincible throughout Bookscroll Lake?”

Wang Guanfeng sensed the underlying meaning in his words and cautiously inquired, “Does the ancestor wish us to switch our allegiance and bet on the Vermilion Canopy Dynasty?”

The old man shook his head and said, “Those are two different matters. Liu Zhimao’s current prominence is half due to Gu Can and that Nascent Soul dragon. Let him sit on the throne of Bookscroll Lake for a few days. When Gu Can dies, Liu Zhimao will be crippled. When a wall falls, everyone pushes it down. Whatever Bookscroll Lake was two hundred years ago, it will be again two hundred years from now.”

The old man smiled, “When did the rogue cultivators of Bookscroll Lake become so unafraid of death? A little brat, daring to flaunt his power so openly?”

Wang Guanfeng explained, “The Vermilion Canopy Dynasty may have the idea of winning over Gu Can and restraining Liu Zhimao; otherwise, they wouldn’t allow Gu Can to act so recklessly. However, the dragon’s growth rate is too unbelievable, advancing from Earth Immortal to Nascent Soul in less than three years. It has indeed left us all somewhat bewildered.”

The old man was clearly not the type of mountain cultivator who liked to be overly critical of his subordinates. He nodded and said, “It’s not your fault. I was traveling with two friends earlier, and when we discussed this matter, even they, with their high realms and insight, had the same thoughts as you, Wang Guanfeng, more or less meaning unbelievable.”

“Betting on Liu Zhimao is fine. If you’re not afraid of me fleecing your Wang clan’s silver, just put all your wealth on it.”

The old man finally smiled and said, “But that Gu Can, I will personally kill him when the time comes. You only need to play dumb, observe the situation, and wait to collect your money.”

Wang Guanfeng swallowed hard.

The old man’s expression was indifferent, “Since we are all rogue cultivators, no one’s life is worth more than another. No one can kill their way from beginning to end. At least, not in Bookscroll Lake, not here with me.”

Wang Guanfeng prostrated himself on the ground.

Bookscroll Lake actually has rules; the old-timers of Bookscroll Lake just don’t mention them, and the young people don’t know about them.

The old crone doorkeeper of the Ghost Cultivator’s mansion had gained a bit more vitality recently, eagerly anticipating the young accountant’s visit each day.

Even though Mr. Chen came and went in a hurry each time, never stopping much at the doorkeeper’s position, only exchanging a greeting before leaving, barely even making small talk, the crone named Hong Su, neither human nor ghost, was still a little happy.

This day, after the accountant left, she stood at the mansion gate, gazing after his retreating figure, unaware that her master had appeared beside her. By the time she suddenly realized, the ghost cultivator, surnamed Ma, snorted coldly, “What, still dreaming of a sparrow flying up to a branch to become a phoenix? Hoping that someone like Chen Ping An will take a liking to you and take you in as a servant?”

She quickly gave the ghost cultivator a curtsy, sadly saying, “Master is joking, how would this slave dare to have such presumptuous thoughts that deserve to be struck by lightning.”

The ghost cultivator tossed her a small bag of immortal coins, “This Chen Ping An will be visiting the mansion often recently. One snowflake coin each day is enough for you to restore yourself to your former appearance and maintain it for about ten days, so Chen Ping An doesn’t think our Vermilion String Mansion is a Yama Palace, unable to even afford a living doorkeeper.”

She held the bag of immortal coins with both hands and then bowed in thanks.

Of course, she wouldn’t have any real thoughts about the young and gentle accountant. Women in this world, regardless of their beauty or ugliness, don’t necessarily have to like a man just because he is good. Nor do they necessarily dislike him just because he is bad. The Old Man Under the Moon, who ties the red threads of fate for men and women, must be a mischievous old boy.

Hong Su, with a head full of dark hair but an aged face, was simply guarding this gate day after day, year after year, in the deathly silent mansion, and it was too monotonous. It was not easy to see a young man, so naturally, she cherished it somewhat.

The ghost cultivator, who didn’t usually like to talk to people, unusually stayed at the gate today, looking out at the vast lake scenery beyond Azure Gorge Island, his face filled with worry.

Earlier, Liu Zhimao had fought fiercely with the old island lord of Celestial Mother Island, almost turning the latter’s brains into the congee served for supper on Palace Willow Island that night. Although the Azure Gorge Island alliance had ostensibly boosted morale, everyone with eyes knew that the tragedy at Hibiscus Mountain, whether Liu Zhimao was secretly behind it or not, had significantly hindered Liu Zhimao’s path to the throne of Bookscroll Lake, and had invisibly lost the support of many smaller island lords.

Because Bookscroll Lake had two timeless golden rules: one was to help relatives, not the righteous, and the other was to help the weak, not the strong.
Therefore, the atmosphere on Azure Gorge Island had been somewhat heavy these past few days, and the banquets hosted by the twelve major islands had decreased significantly.

Chen Ping’an still frequented Crimson String Manor, Crescent Hook Island, and Jade Kettle Island. Yu Gui of Crescent Hook Island was the easiest to talk to, making transactions the smoothest. The Yin-Yang Grand Cultivator of Jade Kettle Island was also acceptable, though not particularly enthusiastic. Still, his straightforward business demeanor was something Chen Ping’an appreciated. On the other hand, the Ghost Cultivator surnamed Ma, with the lowest cultivation level, remained unyielding. Unless Chen Ping’an could persuade Liu Chongrun of Hairpin Pearl Island, there was no room for negotiation. Thus, Chen Ping’an found himself acting like a matchmaker, frequently visiting Hairpin Pearl Island. However, Liu Chongrun was even more unyielding than the Ghost Cultivator. If Chen Ping’an didn’t mention that “Rice Porter” individual, he would be treated as a distinguished guest of Hairpin Pearl Island, with fine wine, tea, and beautiful maidens awaiting him at the Jewel Pavilion. But if he came as an envoy for that lowly servant of the former Liu Imperial Clan, he wouldn’t even be allowed to enter the gates of Hairpin Pearl Island.

Stubborn as ever, Chen Ping’an never crossed the threshold, conversing with Liu Chongrun only at the ferry before returning by boat.

In truth, the two could have had a conversation. They had spent nearly three hundred years wandering the Lotus Root Blessed Land, witnessing countless affairs of court and matters of royalty. However, Chen Ping’an was unwilling and unable to be distracted at the moment. Perhaps one day, when he was about to leave Scroll Lake, he would definitely visit Hairpin Pearl Island to ask Liu Chongrun, the female cultivator who almost became the first female emperor of Treasure Bottle Continent, about some of his lingering questions.

Although he couldn’t successfully acquire those Yin Spirits from the Ghost Cultivator surnamed Ma, sparring with him on some Ghost Dao techniques proved more meaningful than chatting for two hours with a slick character like Yu Gui. As for the Yin-Yang cultivator of Jade Kettle Island, he was so stern and taciturn that Chen Ping’an couldn’t pry open his mouth for conversation. Therefore, Chen Ping’an visited Crimson String Manor more often. Moreover, it was on Azure Gorge Island, so after dinner, a leisurely walk would often lead him there before he even fully realized it.

One day at dusk, Chen Ping’an had just retrieved a confidential message delivered by flying sword from the sword room and came to Crimson String Manor to relax.

Fan Junmao of Old Dragon City had responded, but only with four words: “No comment.”

Chen Ping’an was helpless.

The future Southern Sacred Mountain deity of Great Li, a top-tier deity on par with Wei Bo, and far more petty than Wei Bo, was not someone to be trifled with.

However, Chen Ping’an had clearly stated in his letter that he was both seeking a favor and offering a trade. Fan Junmao shouldn’t have responded in this manner.

Today, Chen Ping’an greeted the gatekeeper “Old Crone” as usual and went to find the Ghost Cultivator surnamed Ma.

Without stopping or lingering, Hong Su, whose appearance had returned to that of a forty-year-old woman, felt no disappointment. She felt this was better, and strangely, more comforting.

That day, after Chen Ping’an left Crimson String Manor, he found Gu Can and Little Muddy standing at the end of the path, asking if Chen Ping’an was free tonight. Gu Can said his mother had made another home-cooked meal.

Chen Ping’an said he couldn’t tonight, as he had to visit two islands further from Azure Gorge Island. He would likely return very late, so even a late-night snack wouldn’t be possible.

Gu Can seemed disappointed.

Chen Ping’an didn’t say anything further.

Gu Can escorted Chen Ping’an to the house outside the mountain gate and suddenly asked, “Chen Ping’an, you actually have some reservations about my mother, don’t you?”

Chen Ping’an ruffled his hair. “Don’t think too much about it. If there are any issues or problems, I will find a time and opportunity to talk to your aunt. But in your presence, I will never say anything bad about your mother.”

Gu Can seemed to understand and left with Little Muddy.

Chen Ping’an returned to the house and buried himself in his studies.

Inside a tall building in Poolside City.

Cui Chan put down a confidential letter.

Cui Chan rubbed his brow, pondering deeply.

Cui Dongshan was still in that golden lightning pool, never having left, currently imitating Chen Ping’an’s Heaven and Earth Stake.

The trends of the world and the fluctuations of people’s hearts all had discernible traces. This had always been a field of study that Cui Chan had delved into deeply.

Cui Chan murmured to himself, “On one hand, Chen Ping’an arrived earlier than expected. This is due to the minds of Gu Tao, and of course, Chen Ping’an, being better than the Embroidery River Water God, nipping the potential for mutual destruction between Ruan Xiu and Gu Can in the bud. But this was always part of Chen Ping’an’s plan to break the situation. Even if you weren’t here, I wouldn’t have interfered.”

“On the other hand, I slightly underestimated Gu Can’s composure. He didn’t rashly act and directly provoke Ruan Xiu with that Muddy Loach that night. As for Ruan Xiu’s goodwill towards Chen Ping’an, shifting attention away from the loach, and Liu Laocheng, the Lord of Willow Palace Island’s ambition, both are greater than I imagined. These are all significant variables.”

“According to the deductions from the Riding Dragon Lane incident back then, we can roughly conclude that Ruan Xiu is a being highly valued by the Old Divine Lord, even more critical than Li Liu and Fan Junmao. She is likely one of the Great Spirits of the Divine Dao back then, capable of seeing the karmic retribution on a person. With her, Chen Ping’an essentially knows the exam questions in advance. The Fourth Difficulty, difficult among all difficulties, can be reduced by nearly half. But I still allowed Ruan Xiu, who made many excuses and lingered in Green Tung City unwilling to move, to legitimately stay in Scroll Lake, making you lose fair and square.”

Saying this, Cui Chan smiled at Cui Dongshan.

Since Liu Laocheng secretly entered Scroll Lake, he still hasn’t contacted Great Li’s intelligence network through any channel.

This indicates that Liu Laocheng, this rogue cultivator of the Upper Five Realms, after climbing up the ladder to the Old Sect Master Xun Yuan of Jade Decree Sect, has decided to burn his boats, choosing to bet all his assets in Scroll Lake as a proof of allegiance to establish a lower sect in Scroll Lake. Generally speaking, sitting by and watching Liu Zhimao of Azure Gorge Island unify Scroll Lake, Liu Laocheng, as the Lord of Willow Palace Island, still has many old connections hidden beneath the surface. As long as Jade Decree Sect chooses a lower sect in Scroll Lake, Liu Laocheng doesn’t lose out, perhaps even makes a small profit. It’s just that the lion’s share goes to Liu Zhimao and the Song Clan of Great Li behind him. However, a mountain-lake rogue cultivator from the wilderness, in such a grand gamble with a fifty-fifty chance of winning or losing, who wouldn’t bet? Especially Liu Laocheng, the foremost mountain-lake rogue cultivator of Treasure Bottle Continent. In addition, even if Liu Zhimao’s wings are already full, he may not be willing to perish together when facing the deeply rooted Liu Laocheng in Scroll Lake, once the latter starts to stir trouble.

This is the general trend.

Liu Laocheng possesses it.

One person alone occupies a share of the grand trend of the times.

How difficult is that.
Liu Zhimao is far from comparable. Half his achievements rely on his disciple, Gu Can, and a beast. His aura is like that of a housewife, accumulated bit by bit. How can he compare to someone like Liu Laocheng, who single-handedly carved out a bloody path, an old turtle who fought his way up? His cultivation, temperament, and skills are simply not on the same level. Give Liu Zhimao another century or two to manage his territory, accumulate connections, and then maybe, just maybe, he could squeeze into the Upper Five Realms.

On the other hand, Liu Laocheng is a true hero whom even Cui Chan admires.

Cui Dongshan walked upside down, saying casually, “Ruan Xiu staying at Shujian Lake allows you to act accordingly. The variables caused by the self-emergence of one or two key pieces are inconsequential to the grand scheme. You can still twist it towards the momentum you desire.”

Cui Dongshan righted himself, standing still, and said nonchalantly, “Find an excuse to give to the Song family, and make them leave Lvtong City quickly.”

Cui Chan asked with a smile, “Why is that? It’s clearly a small profit for you, why not take it?”

Cui Dongshan vigorously rubbed his cheeks. “Of course I want a big gamble! If I lose, I’ll just go bankrupt. If I win, I’ll leave the Cliff Academy and plot for you the grand scheme south of Treasure Bottle Continent.”

This time, Cui Chan was truly puzzled and had to ask, “Why is that?”

Cui Dongshan played the rogue. “Because I want to! I just love seeing you calculate and calculate, only to realize you’ve calculated nothing at all.”

Cui Chan laughed heartily. “Then you’ll be disappointed.”

Cui Dongshan did a clumsy set of Wangbaquan (a type of basic martial art), and then asked, “Why?”

Cui Chan smiled slyly. “You can guess.”

Cui Dongshan suddenly asked, “If Liu Laocheng kills Gu Can, won’t this game end anticlimactically?”

Cui Chan countered, “Am I the one who should be anxious? Isn’t it you?”

Cui Dongshan chuckled.

Cui Chan smiled faintly. “Then I’ll say something unromantic. If Chen Pingan begins to openly face those countless wronged spirits, there will definitely be all sorts of interesting things. Among them, even if only one Yin creature, or a living relative of a Yin creature, directly questions Chen Pingan, ‘Apologies? Unnecessary. Compensation? Also unnecessary. I just want to exchange a life for a life. Can you do it?’ How should Chen Pingan handle that? How should he overcome that inner hurdle? And that’s just one of countless difficulties.”

Cui Dongshan hopped and skipped, covering his ears with both hands. “I can’t hear, I can’t hear, the old turtle chanting sutras is so unpleasant.”

At the Zhu Xuan Mansion gatehouse.

This day, Chen Pingan sat on the doorstep. The woman named Hong Su, for some reason, no longer relied on absorbing the spiritual energy of a snowflake coin every day to maintain her appearance. So she quickly reverted to the old woman’s face she had when they first met.

Then, on this day, Chen Pingan suddenly took out paper and pen, and said with a smile that he wanted to ask her about some old stories, wondering if it was appropriate, with no other intentions, asking her not to misunderstand.

Before answering, she stood at the doorway of the dark room, and asked with a smile, “Mr. Chen, are you really a novelist from among the Hundred Schools of Philosophers?”

Chen Pingan shook his head. “I’m not, but I have a friend who likes to write landscape travelogues, and he writes very well. I hope that some of my experiences can be told to this friend when we meet again in the future, or recorded and given directly to him to see.”

She twirled her skirt and walked quickly to Chen Pingan’s side, asking, “Can I sit?”

Chen Pingan said helplessly, “This is your home.”

She sat down with a smile, still some distance away from Chen Pingan.

She said a little embarrassedly, “Mr. Chen, let’s make it clear beforehand, I don’t have many stories to tell. Mr. Chen will probably be disappointed after listening. And also, can my name really appear in a book?”

Chen Pingan smiled slightly. “Of course it can, as long as you don’t mind. And after we finish talking, you must remember to remind me which stories can be written, which cannot, which people and things to write more or less about. I will tell my friend everything.”

She clenched her hands on her knees, looking radiant.

Chen Pingan looked at her with a smiling face, his eyes gentle and clear, as if he were looking at a good girl.

She quickly stood up, gave a cheerful and playful curtsey, then sat down, her face blooming with smiles.

She told her story slowly, surprisingly remembering many people and things that she had mistakenly thought she had already forgotten.

Chen Pingan recorded them one by one.

Occasionally, when she was tired, she would look directly at the pale-faced accountant who was bowing his head and writing seriously, without feeling anything was amiss.

Finally, Chen Pingan put away his pen and paper, and clasped his hands in thanks.

She covered her mouth and giggled, then whispered, “Mr. Chen, remember to tell your friend to definitely publish the book, and if that doesn’t work, I can take out a few snowflake coins.”

Chen Pingan frowned. “How can I take such unconscionable money? Don’t worry, my friend has that much money. Besides, you have to believe in his writing ability. Surely there will be a bookstore willing to pay for it.”

After Chen Pingan left.

The gatehouse “old woman” still had a smiling face and couldn’t help but hop on the spot.

As a result, she found the Zhu Xuan Mansion Master standing next to her.

She quickly restrained her smile.

Unexpectedly, the rigid and stern Master asked a question, “Tell Chen Pingan later that my story with the Princess Liu Chongrun can also be written about. As long as he is willing to write, I will give you a Minor Heat coin as a reward.”

She asked timidly, “What if I can’t persuade Mr. Chen? Will the Master punish me?”

The ghost cultivator surnamed Ma cursed and turned around, striding across the threshold. “That means he’s blind and deaf, and it has nothing to do with you, you ugly hag. Damn it, can your petty family squabbles compare to the magnificent, soul-stirring love and hatred between me and Liu Chongrun? Chen Pingan isn’t stupid…”

Speaking of this, the ghost cultivator coughed and turned his head, saying, “When you mention this to Chen Pingan, remember to speak properly, and grind him down.”

She was relieved and nodded vigorously.

Then she was a little puzzled. Huh? When did my Master become so understanding?