This immortal ferry wasn’t heading directly to Longquan County in the Great Li Dynasty. After all, Bao Fu Zhai had already withdrawn from Niujiao Mountain, and the ferry crossing was practically abandoned. Nominally, it was temporarily requisitioned by the Great Li military, but it wasn’t a crucial hub. Only a handful of ferries docked there, mostly carrying Great Li nobles coming to Longquan County to enjoy the scenery. Longquan County was currently undergoing reconstruction, and there were rumors that the vast county would soon be upgraded to a prefecture. This meant that a dozen or so high-ranking official positions would suddenly appear in the Great Li bureaucracy. With the Great Li’s unstoppable military expansion, encompassing half of Treasure Bottle洲, the status of local officials in Great Li had risen significantly. Local officials with Great Li registration were like “officials of the capital” in ordinary vassal states. Nowadays, being assigned to various vassal states in the south meant an almost guaranteed promotion.

The ferry Chen Pingan was on would dock at a crossing within a small nation called Qianhe. Qianhe was a land of many mountains, weak national power, and barren land. Customs and dialects varied every few miles, making it a peaceful place untouched by the Great Li’s iron cavalry. The ferry crossing was controlled by a mountain cave dwelling. The master of Fuyin Cave was both the national teacher of Qianhe and the leader of the country’s immortal cultivators. However, Qianhe only had a few dozen registered immortal cultivators, and the national teacher’s cultivation was only at the Dragon Gate realm. His disciples were few and insignificant. The reason they possessed an immortal ferry crossing was that Fuyin Cave was once the ruins of a shattered ancient blessed land. It produced several resources that could be sold to the south for a meager profit. The annual income was insignificant, which discouraged foreign cultivators from coveting the area.

Chen Pingan planned to return to Longquan County first, then visit Caiyi and Shushui Countries. Many affairs in his hometown required his personal attention and decisions. Some matters, such as buying land, needed him to personally interact with the Great Li court and sign new “land deeds.” Wei Bo could assist, but couldn’t replace Chen Pingan in this regard.

There was a minor incident during the journey. A group of immortal cultivators from Qingfeng City felt it was an insult that an ordinary horse was allowed to occupy a space on the lower deck of the ferry, alongside their carefully raised and trained spirit beasts. They wanted to cause some trouble, albeit subtly. Fortunately, Chen Pingan took good care of his beloved horse, nicknamed “Qu Huang,” and often had Flying Sword Fifteen secretly watch over it to prevent accidents. Having been together for years, Chen Pingan was very grateful to this understanding steed.

So, when Qu Huang was initially frightened on the lower deck of the ferry, Chen Pingan sensed it. He immediately had Chu Yi and Shi Wu turn ethereal and pass through the layers of decks to reach the lower hold, stopping a mountain beast from attacking Qu Huang.

Chen Pingan then hurried there, but was blocked by the ferry’s deckhand guarding the lower level. Understanding the situation, Chen Pingan grabbed the young man’s shoulder, half-dragging him towards Qu Huang’s location. When the indifferent Chen Pingan entered, all the spirit birds and beasts trembled and prostrated themselves. The beast near Qu Huang, in particular, was completely black except for its snow-white paws. According to the book of immortals purchased from Inverted Peak, it was one of the descendants of the ancient ferocious beast, the Nianshan Hound. A true Nianshan Hound wouldn’t have mixed colors, but even a descendant of this lineage was violent, similar to the Mountain-Moving Ape.

When the Nianshan Hound descendant saw Chen Pingan, it was even more terrified than the other docile spirit birds and beasts in the hold, tucking its tail and cowering.

Chen Pingan released the deckhand’s shoulder. The man rubbed his shoulder and fawned, “This young master, it seems your fine steed and the beast next door had a clash of tempers. This often happens on ferries. I’ll separate them immediately and move your beloved horse to a better stall, so there won’t be any more accidents.”

Chen Pingan glanced at the fence between Qu Huang and the Nianshan Hound descendant. It was empty.

Originally, some low-grade talismans should have been placed between the cage fences. If a spirit bird or beast crossed the line, the restrictions would be triggered immediately, allowing the ferry to “mediate.” However, most of the birds and beasts brought on board by cultivators were intelligent and wouldn’t cause trouble for their owners. Otherwise, it would cost money to resolve, which would harm the cultivator’s path. If a problem arose that money couldn’t solve, it would be even more disastrous.

However, in the eyes of the Nianshan Hound descendant’s owner, what harm could a roadside character who boarded with a horse cause?

Chen Pingan reached out and stroked Qu Huang’s head. It gently pawed the ground, showing little panic.

South of Shujian Lake, Qu Huang had seen the world with Chen Pingan.

Chen Pingan withdrew his hand and smiled. “Are you trying to ruin my path?”

The deckhand was stunned. He had guessed that the horse’s owner might demand an explanation, but he never expected such a serious accusation. Was he trying to extort money?

This was good.

The young deckhand was secretly overjoyed, wishing the two parties would fight.

No matter what background this person had, no matter why he could make those beasts cower, as long as he provoked the cultivators from Qingfeng City, he wouldn’t have a good outcome.

The immortal cultivators from Qingfeng City were always valued guests on this ferry, with whom the ferry had a very close relationship. Because the products of Fuyin Cave in Qianhe, including a certain type of spiritual wood, were favored by the fox spirits of the fictional kingdom of Qiqiu, this spiritual wood, which could moisturize fox pelts, was almost entirely bought up by the immortal cultivators of Qingfeng City, and then resold to the Xu family, resulting in doubled profits. As for why the Xu family of Qingfeng City didn’t make the trip themselves, the ferry had once curiously inquired. The cultivators of Qingfeng City laughed and said, would the Xu family care about others earning such meager profits from them? With such free time, the Xu family members, skilled in making money, could earn even more immortal coins. The Xu family of Qingfeng City, who owned Qiqiu, were accustomed to being gods of wealth who only needed to count money at home.

A group of immortal cultivators wearing snow-white fox furs slowly walked into the lower deck, somewhat eye-catching.
The fox fur cloaks of Qingfeng City are renowned for their ability to ward off winter’s chill and dispel summer’s heat, differing only in thickness. Yet, donning such a garment in the sweltering summer, however thin, appeared incongruous. Nevertheless, it served as a talisman for cultivators traversing the mundane world, Qingfeng City holding considerable sway in the northern regions of Baoping Continent. Especially now, with rumors abounding that the Xu family head of Qingfeng City had encountered a significant stroke of luck. His Daoist partner had acquired a priceless carbuncle armor from the Lizhu Grotto Heaven, propelling him even further in his cultivation. Moreover, the family possessed a Great Li ‘Peace Untroubled’ plaque, signifying the unstoppable rise of the Xu family of Qingfeng City.

Without a word, Chen Ping An, still appearing frail and with a loose stance, swiftly approached the group of cultivators. With a single punch, he felled one after another, including a round-faced young maiden who fainted on the spot. Only the handsome young master remained, beads of sweat forming on his forehead, his lips trembling as he debated whether to adopt a defiant tone or plead for leniency.

Chen Ping An stood before him, hands tucked into his sleeves, and inquired about the inner workings of Qingfeng City.

After all, the Xu family of Qingfeng City and the Mountain-Moving Ape of Zhengyang Mountain both had unresolved matters weighing on Chen Ping An’s mind. Even if he traversed Shujian Lake again, he would not let the past be forgotten.

Seeing his companions and personal guards already prostrate on the ground, the pampered young cultivator abandoned all pretense of pride or backbone, answering with utmost candor, like pouring beans from a bamboo tube.

Chen Ping An questioned in detail, and the young cultivator responded earnestly, like a tutor quizzing his students on their lessons.

The ferryman tending to the lower deck cabins, witnessing this scene, felt a sense of bewilderment. What was happening? Were not all immortal cultivators hailing from Qingfeng City said to possess boundless divine powers?

Chen Ping An turned his gaze towards the calculating ferryman, simultaneously striking the young cultivator behind him on the forehead with a palm. With a thud, the latter fell backward, unconscious.

This was called sharing both fortune and misfortune.

Chen Ping An looked at the terrified ferryman and asked, “Do you get any immortal coins for helping with this scheme?”

The young ferryman shook his head, his voice trembling, “No, no, not a single snowflake coin. I just wanted to curry favor, to become acquainted with these immortals. Perhaps they would casually offer some advice, and I would find a way to earn money.”

Chen Ping An asked, “Who came up with the idea?”

The young ferryman answered without hesitation, “It was the immortals from Qingfeng City’s idea. I was just lending a hand. Please, immortal lord, forgive me…”

Chen Ping An lightly stomped his foot, and the young master’s body twitched. He groggily awoke, and Chen Ping An smiled, “This brother on the ferry says that you came up with the idea to harm my horse. What do you have to say?”

The Qingfeng City youth flew into a rage, sitting on the ground and unleashing a torrent of abuse.

Chen Ping An walked out of the lower deck cabin and smiled at the youth, “Don’t kill anyone.”

The youth struggled to his feet, a malicious grin on his face as he approached the ferryman, “Good fellow, you dare to trick me? I’ll peel a layer of skin off you…”

The youth suddenly turned his head and saw the blue-robed man standing at the cabin door, looking back at him. He quickly smiled, “Don’t worry, I won’t kill him, I wouldn’t dare. I’ll just teach this scoundrel a lesson.”

Chen Ping An walked out of the cabin.

The wicked will always be tormented by the wicked.

It was difficult to say who was more evil, the Qingfeng City cultivators or the ferryman.

However, deep down, Chen Ping An felt more disgusted by the frail ferryman. Yet, in the future, he would still not have many good ways to deal with these “weaklings.” On the contrary, he had more opportunities to act against those arrogant and overbearing mountain cultivators. Just like that snowy night, when he encountered Prince Han Jingling of the Shihao Kingdom, he killed him without hesitation. Who knew, perhaps in the future, not just princes, but even emperors could be killed in that lawless Northern Ju Continent.

Chen Ping An arrived at the bow of the ferry, grasped the railing, and strolled slowly.

Zhengyang Mountain and Qingfeng City were both thriving.

Especially the former, after the disintegration of Li Tuanjing, the strongest cultivator below the Upper Five Realms on Baoping Continent, it had become increasingly powerful. The Storm and Thunder Garden was destined to endure a long period of humiliation and hibernation in the past century. If the new Garden Master, Sword Cultivator Huang He, and Liu Baqiao could not quickly ascend to the Nascent Soul Realm, they would likely be suppressed by Zhengyang Mountain for hundreds of years, unable to breathe.

As for the Xu family of Qingfeng City, they had previously sold the mountain peak in Longquan County at a low price, clearly favoring the Zhuying Dynasty and Guanhai Academy. Now that the situation had become clear, they were quickly making amends. According to the young cultivator, they had established a relationship with Grand Pillar State Yuan family at the end of last year, both through a marriage between a collateral branch outside the main lineage, with a Xu family嫡女 daughter marrying a Yuan family concubine’s son in the Great Li capital, and by strongly supporting a cavalry unit controlled by the Yuan family son.

Look at that.

Whether friend or foe, everyone was busy.

On the Great Dao, everyone strived to be first.

Chen Ping An felt a sense of self-deprecation as he thought about his own situation.

Breaking through the Fifth Realm bottleneck of a pure martial artist and entering the Sixth Realm was something Chen Ping An could have easily done before entering Shujian Lake. At the time, he was near his hometown and wanted to show the old man surnamed Cui in Luopo Mountain that, after being tempered by you, the strongest Third Realm of the past, after hitting more than a million punches, finally had the strongest Fifth Realm martial artist in the world. He thought it would make the barefoot old man more subtle when feeding him punches later, and suffer less. Chen Ping An didn’t care much about martial luck gifts. Even if he had an opportunity like the Cloud Sea Jiaolong in Old Dragon City, he should still punch it back.

He didn’t expect that this delay would last for nearly three years.

As for replenishing the Five Elements natal objects and rebuilding the Bridge of Longevity, it was better not to mention it. According to A Liang, it was “I have a watermelon rind swordsmanship, wherever it slips, the sword will be there, let fate decide.”

Chen Ping An smiled knowingly.

Turning his head, he saw the group of Qingfeng City cultivators who had come to apologize. Chen Ping An ignored them. After roughly determining that Chen Ping An had no intention of pursuing the matter, they left dejectedly.

Afterwards, the ferry owner also came to apologize, vowing to severely punish the troublemaking ferryman.

Chen Ping An didn’t pay much attention, only saying that learning a lesson was enough.
The ferry docked at the blessed cave dwelling within the Thousand Ravine Kingdom. In the past, Chen Pingan would have simply hurried on his way. But this time, he made a point to visit the master of the Blessed Cave. Perhaps aware of the incident aboard the ferry, the old Dragon Gate realm cultivator, the esteemed Grand Tutor of the Thousand Ravine Kingdom, was exceptionally cordial. Chen Pingan, shamelessly, inquired about the broad strokes of what happens after a cave heaven collapses. The old cultivator was familiar with the subject; after all, the Blessed Cave had some renown, albeit small, a mere ten-odd square miles. Any hidden treasures and relics of immortals had long been plundered by his predecessors. The spiritual energy of the cave dwelling was not particularly abundant. Later, by chance, the old cultivator had taken residence there, using it as a place to cultivate and grow his lineage. Facing visitors from all walks of life, he possessed a well-rehearsed set of courteous phrases, elaborating when appropriate, and remaining silent on matters best left unsaid. Upon learning that Chen Pingan hailed from the Great Li Dynasty, the old cultivator became even more enthusiastic, insisting that Chen Pingan stay for a few days. After a polite refusal, the old cultivator presented him with a nine-sectioned treasure box as a farewell gift. It comprised nine trinkets, each crafted from unique products of the Blessed Cave. In truth, they were not particularly valuable. At the Thousand Ravine Kingdom market, they might fetch around twenty snowflake coins. For a mortal dynasty, this would be an astronomical sum, but in the eyes of mountain cultivators, it was hardly a precious gift.

Chen Pingan accepted the small treasure box and, in return, gifted the Blessed Cave a jar of Honeycomb Ferry Water Well Immortal Brew. The old Dragon Gate realm cultivator was overjoyed upon hearing the name of the brew and invited Chen Pingan to visit the Blessed Cave again whenever he passed through the Thousand Ravine Kingdom. While they might not have any more Immortal Brew like the Water Well kind, the Thousand Ravine Kingdom had its own unique scenery that couldn’t be found elsewhere. He wouldn’t dare to say that it would make a cultivator linger, but a single viewing would certainly be worth the trip. He, this Grand Tutor of the Thousand Ravine Kingdom who was something of a laughingstock, was willing to accompany Chen Pingan on a tour.

The old cultivator personally escorted Chen Pingan to the border of the Thousand Ravine Kingdom before returning to his dwelling.

A young, direct disciple beside him was puzzled, wondering why his master had gone to such lengths. The old Dragon Gate realm cultivator sighed, “On the path of cultivation, one must never miss an opportunity to forge good karma, no matter how small.”

The young disciple seemed to understand. The old cultivator, fearing that his disciple might stray from the right path, couldn’t help but remind him, “At your age, you should focus on diligent cultivation and comprehending the Dao. Do not overthink worldly affairs. It is enough to understand the benefits and detriments. Wait until you are as decrepit as your master, unable to walk the mountain paths, before concerning yourself with such matters. Your so-called master, besides teaching you the Dao, must also do these unpleasant things, so that the disciples of the sect may walk an easier path in the future.”

The old cultivator ruffled his disciple’s hair and sighed, “Last time you went down the mountain alone to temper yourself, I observed your absurd behavior with the young nobles of the Thousand Ravine Kingdom. If you were not just putting on an act, believing that it was necessary to curry favor while disliking it in your heart, I would have been disappointed in you. A cultivator should know the true foundation of their being. What need is there to fuss over those worldly relationships? What is the meaning of it all? Remember, everything outside of cultivation is vanity.”

The young disciple felt a chill in his heart.

The old cultivator smiled, “I took this opportunity to dispel the confusion in your heart. The twenty snowflake coins your master gifted were not spent in vain.”

The young disciple bowed deeply, “Your kindness is immense, and Wan Jun will remember it forever.”

The Blessed Cave mountain master stroked his beard and smiled, leading his promising disciple along the open mountain ridge path.

Chen Pingan, carrying his sword and riding his horse, continued north from the northern border of the Thousand Ravine Kingdom.

He could not have guessed that his previous visit to the Blessed Cave had allowed an old Dragon Gate realm cultivator to take the opportunity to awaken a potential successor.

During the Great Heat period, amidst a slanting drizzle, Chen Pingan, alone with his horse, presented his travel documents and smoothly passed through the Great Li Dynasty border gate.

This time, on his return to Dragon Spring County, he chose a new route, avoiding the path through Red Candle Town and Chess Mound Mountain.

Along the way, heavy rain frequently fell, and the humid heat was oppressively stifling, almost making Chen Pingan think he was walking through the sweltering summer months in Shujian Lake.

However, the Great Heat is hot, and autumn will bring coolness.

Crickets chirped incessantly at night.

Once, beneath an ancient pine tree on a mountain peak at sunset, he saw a boisterous scholar, bare-chested and holding a feather fan, surrounded by beautiful handmaidens, their voices like warbling orioles. Further away stood two old men with deep, controlled breathing, clearly cultivators.

Chen Pingan led his horse past, without looking aside.

After moving far from the mountain peak, Chen Pingan felt somewhat melancholy. In the past, scholars of the Great Li Dynasty, even those who had gained admission to the Cliff Academy, still desperately sought to go to the Lakeview Academy, or to the Great Sui, or to the Lu Clan Dynasty. Great Li could not retain its people. According to Cui Dongshan, the literary world of the Great Li at that time, before arguing or picking up their pens, would be too embarrassed to speak, too lacking in confidence to write, without mentioning the names of several scholars from other countries, or flipping through the works of several foreign literary giants, or finding some relatives in the literary circles of other countries.

He wondered what the literary scene of the Great Li was like now.

In fact, Chen Pingan was not interested.

As dusk approached, Chen Pingan finally passed through several post stations east of Dragon Spring County, and then entered a small town. The wooden fence gate was already gone, and the town had been enclosed by a stone wall. There were no gatekeepers or soldiers at the entrance, allowing people to come and go as they pleased. Chen Pingan crossed the gate and found that Zheng Dafeng’s thatched hut was still standing alone by the roadside. Compared to the neatly planned rows of shops nearby, it seemed a bit out of place. Presumably, the price negotiation had failed, and Zheng Dafeng was unwilling to move. An ordinary small town would not dare to compete with the Dragon Spring County seat to the north and the town’s county office, but what would Zheng Dafeng not dare to do? He would definitely not accept a single copper coin less.

Chen Pingan should have arrived in town ten days later, but he had traveled faster than expected, arriving much earlier.

Upon entering the border, he had sent a letter to Fallen Phoenix Mountain through the border post station, telling them his approximate date of return.

Chen Pingan did not go to his ancestral home in Mud Bottle Lane first. He led his horse across the stone bridge and went to his parents’ graves. He still took out cotton bags filled with soil from various places and added soil to the graves. It had not been long since the Qingming Festival, and there were still slightly faded red hanging papers on the graves, held down by flat stones. It seemed that the little girl Pei Qian had not forgotten his instructions.
The journey here had been filled with unfamiliar faces. It wasn’t surprising, as most of the town’s original inhabitants had relocated to the Dragon Spring New Prefecture City nestled north of the western mountains. Almost everyone lived in brand new, gleaming mansions, each household boasting a pair of grand stone lions guarding their entrance. At the very least, they had meticulously crafted drum stones, no less impressive than those on Fortune Street and Peach Leaf Lane back in the day. Those who remained in the old town were mostly elderly, unwilling to move, clinging to the increasingly deserted alleys. Besides them, many new residents had purchased properties but were rarely seen throughout the year. Even when they did cross paths, their conversations were akin to a dialogue between chickens and ducks, each unable to understand the other’s dialect.

And so, Chen Ping’an returned to the small town, walking down Mud Bottle Lane, which had remained almost unchanged. However, the lane was now mostly uninhabited. The few remaining families had moved to the New Prefecture City, selling their ancestral homes to outsiders and acquiring a sum of silver they could only have dreamed of. Even after purchasing large mansions in the city, it was still enough to ensure several generations would live comfortably. The ancestral home of Gu Can’s family had not been sold, but his mother had also settled in the New Prefecture City, buying one of the largest residences in the city, with sprawling courtyards, flowing streams, and an air of opulence.

Chen Ping’an retrieved a set of keys from his spatial artifact, opened the courtyard gate, and released Qu Huang into the small yard, loosening its reins and letting it roam freely.

Chen Ping’an opened the door to the house. It was just as he remembered it, small and without any new, large additions. He moved an old, long bench and sat beside the table for a while. Chen Ping’an stood up, walked out of the courtyard, and re-examined the door gods and spring couplets before stepping back into the yard and gazing at the character “Spring.”

Dusk deepened.

Chen Ping’an sat at the table and lit a lamp.

He thought he would sit for a while longer before going to Declining Mountain to give them all a surprise.

But he sat for a while, and then another while. Chen Ping’an still didn’t get up, just wanting to sit a little longer.

All joys and sorrows, partings and reunions, had begun here. No matter how many thousands of miles he traveled, no matter how many years he wandered, only returning here could bring true peace of mind.

After his parents passed away, Liu Xianyang often lay on the bed in this room, spouting those fanciful dreams of distant lands. The Little Snot-nose had also often complained here about the unreasonable adults.

While parents are alive, one should not travel far. If one must travel, one must have a set destination. Now that parents are gone, one must travel with even greater purpose.

Not far from Dragon Spring Prefecture, in Red Candle Town, Pei Qian, along with the Green-Clad Boy and the Pink-Skirted Girl, sat on a high rooftop, eagerly gazing into the distance. The three were betting on who would spot that figure first.

On Declining Mountain, the barefoot old man was closing his eyes and resting on the second floor.

Zhu Lian had begun to repeatedly admire the talismanic writings on the bamboo buildings once more.

The female ghost, Shi Rou, sat bored on a bamboo chair under the eaves, feeling constrained and uncomfortable everywhere since arriving at Declining Mountain.

At the peak of Veiled Cloud Mountain.

Wei Bo, the Northern Mountain God of Great Li, stood shoulder to shoulder with the Old Jiaolong of Yellow Court, one with a relaxed smile, the other with a solemn expression.

They overlooked the small town in the distance.

In a small lane, a single lamplight flickered faintly.

Then, it shone with great brilliance.