The man who had been slumbering in the hollow of the stone cliff in the mountain stream casually flicked his sleeves, sending the stream water scattering like a spray of white pearls. He chuckled, “Young master, matters have reached this point, what do you say?”

Chen Pingan replied, “I have little coin, I won’t compete with you.”

The man’s face lit up with delight, and he nodded, “Then I’ll remember your kindness.”

However, the old fox of West Mountain was displeased. He thumped the ground heavily with his wooden staff, then extended two splayed fingers, pointing them at Chen Pingan and the ragged man respectively. “I said, whoever has money can be my son-in-law, there’s no room for sentiment! You, young man with the bamboo hat, are generous, and I’ve tested your character repeatedly, all of which you passed. Matters have reached this point, almost as if the rice is already cooked! You should cherish this!”

“If my daughter follows you, she’ll likely never want for food or clothing, draped in gold and silver. Perhaps she’ll even resemble a noble lady more than those female officials under Fan Yunluo of Skin-Like-Jade City. As for that beggar, he’s been drinking the northwest wind here for months! I know him like the back of my hand. He’s all talk and no substance. No, no, my daughter was born to enjoy the good life, she can’t endure hardship. I’ll never stand by and watch my precious daughter jump into a fire pit!”

Chen Pingan was truly enlightened. Over the years, he had traveled far and wide, witnessing mountain gods marrying, fox spirits seducing scholars, and city gods taking concubines, but he had never seen such a haphazard way of marrying off a daughter.

The unremarkable, ragged man said helplessly, “Old father-in-law, I have no money, not a single snowflake coin. Your son-in-law won’t deceive you. But before I came to Ghost Domain Valley, I truly made a great deal. I had no choice but to sell a miniaturized martial arsenal, along with the immortal coins and many magical artifacts within, at a low price. In truth, I am not poor.”

The old fox flew into a rage, striking the ground repeatedly with his wooden staff, and croaked, “You’re trying to trick me again! Get out, damn you! My old eyes only recognize money!”

Chen Pingan pulled out a handful of snowflake coins. “This is all the immortal coin I have on me.”

The sickly old fox said weakly, “You speak with veiled words, circling around, making it difficult to discern the truth. But no matter, it’s better than that beggar. You’re my son-in-law! From now on, the branching and spreading of the West Mountain Fox Clan will depend on you, my son-in-law. While you’re young and strong, put in some effort. Oh right, my daughter’s name is Wei Taizhen, her maiden name. She also has a younger brother, Wei Gaowu, who is a good-for-nothing. Joining one family means joining the whole family. In the future, remember to take care of this little brother-in-law. When we leave Ghost Domain Valley, if you have the opportunity, help him marry seventeen…”

Before he finished, a deafening rumble sounded from beneath the ground, “Three days without a beating and you’ll be lifting the roof! If it weren’t for my master’s grace, how could you, a mere peach sprite with some illusionary tricks, have established yourself in Ghost Domain Valley? You even eavesdropped on my master’s and his Daoist friends’ discussions, relying on that chance to slowly cultivate to the Dragon Gate Realm. You ungrateful spirit…”

The peach sprite begged incessantly, desperately pleading for the lenient young Daoist to show mercy.

The young Daoist grew angrier and angrier. He waved his horsetail whisk again, causing an anomaly to descend from the high cloud sea, ready to unleash a secret Heavenly Thunder of his sect to punish the peach sprite.

Chen Pingan had no choice but to speak, “Young Daoist priest, calm your anger. I’ll leave the peach forest immediately.”

A dark cloud detached from the cloud sea, slowly sinking, crackling with lightning, its aura astonishing.

The young Daoist sneered, “If we weren’t cultivating in this peach forest, you, who trespassed here, would have long been drained of your vital energy by this peach sprite skilled in innate charm. You ignorant fool, filled with misplaced compassion. My master is right, you mundane scholars, constantly steeped in the mortal world…”

Chen Pingan took a step back and delivered a swift punch towards the high cloud sea, using the Cloud Steaming Great Marsh technique to scatter the brewing thundercloud. The qi and energy dispersed wildly, like a mountain wind surging, affecting the peach forest on the ground, scattering the vivid red peach blossoms like a rain.

The young Daoist frowned in silence.

He wasn’t afraid, just somewhat surprised.

Such a young Martial Arts Minor Grandmaster? Judging by the aura of his punch just now, it was condensed and grand. Although he hadn’t yet reached the Golden Body Realm, he wasn’t far off.

However, the young Daoist himself forgot that he was also a “remarkably young” Dragon Gate Realm cultivator.

Although he had reached the Cave Mansion Realm too early, when his master explained the profound mysteries of the path of cultivation, asking if he wanted to take this opportunity to maintain his appearance, he was young and ignorant at the time, thinking that the body was just a stinking skin. Since it wouldn’t hinder his future cultivation, then not “growing” any further wouldn’t be bad either. From then on, his appearance was fixed. In the subsequent sixty years, the “young Daoist” almost regretted it.

He should have at least let his body grow to a crowned man’s appearance before “stopping”!

So he was always very annoyed whenever he snuck out to relax and encountered Fan Yunluo, who looked like a young girl. That old monk would even add fuel to the fire, teasing him and Fan Yunluo as truly golden boys and jade girls.

After retracting his fist, Chen Pingan smiled, “What you say is correct, but when it comes to reasoning, if it’s truly to make the other party listen, rather than just seeking your own peace of mind, then your mindset and tone are also important. Being calm and speaking gently are never bad things.”

The peach sprite, who was almost scared out of its wits, quickly chimed in, “That’s right, that’s right, you should listen to this advice.”

The young Daoist hesitated, his arm hooked around the snow-white horsetail whisk with a handle made of heroic spirit bones.

To disagree and resort to violence was not something a Little Mysterious Capital Temple Daoist should do.

But since the other party was a martial artist training in Ghost Domain Valley, it wouldn’t be wrong for them to spar a bit, right? His master wouldn’t blame him, would he?

Just then, a golden-armored warrior strode over, looked at the young Daoist’s back, and said in a deep voice, “Xu Song, the True Lord invites this young master to the temple for a discussion.”

The young Daoist angrily said, “What merits does this guy have to enter our Little Mysterious Capital Temple?!”

The golden-armored warrior ignored the young Daoist’s outburst and turned to look at Chen Pingan, who had just put on his bamboo hat. “Young master, my True Lord invites you. If you’re not in a hurry to leave, you can come to our Little Mysterious Capital Temple for a cup of thousand-year peach nectar tea.”

Chen Pingan cupped his fist in refusal, “I mistakenly entered the peach forest, already disturbing your True Lord’s quiet cultivation. I really wouldn’t dare to bother you at your temple, I’ll take my leave now.”

The golden-armored warrior nodded, “Since that’s the case, I won’t insist. If you ever want to enter the temple for tea again, just order the peach sprite to guide the way.”
Chen Pingan turned and left the peach grove.

The young Daoist boy named Xu Song snorted, “Good riddance, saves us a cup of peach nectar tea that dog-bone only tasted three times!”

The peach spirit groveled from beneath the ground, “Yes, yes, that one is truly blind, missing out on such great fortune. If he ever comes to the peach grove again, I’ll hide and never see him.”

Xu Song scolded, “Master’s decree, and you dare treat it as a game?!”

The peach spirit immediately begged for forgiveness, “I wouldn’t dare, wouldn’t dare in the slightest.”

Inside an ancient Daoist temple densely planted with peach trees, an old Daoist with crane-white hair and a youthful face was sitting opposite a wizened old monk. The old monk was skin and bones, yet draped in an unusually large cassock.

The old Daoist smiled slightly, “What do you think of that fist?”

The old monk slowly said, “Too strong, easily broken.”

The old Daoist glanced at a cup of tea on the table and asked again, “Do you think this cup of peach nectar tea should be kept? Do you think that young man will return to the peach grove to drink it all in this temple?”

The old monk’s expression was wooden, “Too much talk leads to mistakes.”

The old Daoist was not wearing a Daoist crown, only a carefree scarf. His Daoist robe was old and ordinary, without the slightest hint of immortal grace.

He sighed softly, “The three Goddesses of the Mural City have already walked out of the paintings, each following their master. Furthermore, cultivators above the Fifth Realm from other continents and that He Xiaoliang have joined forces to break into the Ghost Domain Valley, heading to Jingguan City. Yang Chongxuan is still showing signs of seizing fortune. If that Pu Rang stirs up a bit more trouble, provoking Zhu Quan to take action personally, this Ghost Domain Valley, once it becomes a complete mess, this last haven of ours may also lose its tranquility.”

The withered old monk nodded, “True Lord has foresight.”

Upon hearing the name Pu Rang, the old monk silently chanted a Buddhist mantra in his heart.

The old Daoist had actually noticed the change in the other’s state of mind, but since they knew each other inside and out, there was no need to say much.

The old Daoist looked up, “What do you say, for us cultivators, even the boundary between life and death is blurred, then where in the world is not a cage? The less one knows, the easier it is to be at ease. Knowing, how can one truly be at peace?”

The old monk pondered for a moment, then lowered his head and clasped his hands together, revealing his withered yet golden-colored palms, “This poor monk’s Dharma is not enough to support this cassock. How can I see the Buddha, how can I ask about this age-old difficulty?”

The old monk slowly rose, clasped his hands together, and gave a salute.

The old Daoist did not stand on formality with this old friend, only nodded.

The old monk took a step, and his figure vanished, returning to that Great Round Moon Temple, just like the Little Mysterious Capital Temple, both are immortal residences that form small universes within the peach grove. Unless one is a Nascent Soul cultivator, even if one wanders in the peach grove for a thousand years, one will not see or enter.

Inside the temple, the sound of Sanskrit hymns lingered, old monks sat cross-legged on prayer mats, monks walked slowly with their heads lowered in the corridors, and young novice monks diligently swept the ground under the trees, each busy with their own tasks, without any verbal communication between them.

The wizened old monk stood still. In his vision, those monks were all skeletons.

Bypassing the Mahavira Hall, shrouded in mist and without a golden Buddha statue, the old monk clasped his hands together, his expression devout, and walked forward silently.

Around this old monk, whose golden Arhat body was nearing perfection, one by one, monks with similar features but vastly different ages, wearing different cassocks, appeared out of thin air, a total of four. Each had questions to ask, but the old monk simply ignored them, neither seeing nor hearing, only walking forward.

A young monk looked regretful and said, “Why not drink that cup of peach nectar tea? Drinking it would shorten your cultivation by several years! It would bring you closer to the Western Pure Land Buddhist Kingdom, even by half a step.”

A middle-aged monk, filled with anger, roared at the old monk like thunder, “What kind of Dharma are you cultivating? There are so many monsters in the Ghost Domain Valley, why not go and save them!”

A monk wearing a gorgeous cassock, with an arrogant expression, glanced sideways at the old monk and scoffed, “Such arduous cultivation is not the true Dharma.”

An old monk whose age and appearance were closest to the old monk asked softly, “Are you me? Am I you?”

The last young monk, with a slender figure, stood with his back to the old monk, who was always moving forward firmly and slowly. The young monk looked towards a bamboo fence filled with blooming peach blossoms, and chanted痴癡念道：“桃花嫣然出籬笑，似開未開最有情。” (Unable to translate perfectly)

The old monk’s footsteps paused slightly, but soon he strode forward, and after a moment, he returned to his normal pace.

If one did not look up, ordinary people entering this temple would only feel that the sun was shining brightly.

In reality, if one looked up, one would see a crescent moon hanging in the sky.

Inside the Little Mysterious Capital Temple, the old Daoist came to the foot of a towering peach tree, squatted down, pinched some soil with his fingers, and gently rubbed it.

The soil in the old Daoist’s fingertips was the Ten Thousand Year Soil that mountain cultivators dreamed of, as heavy as gold and iron.

The old Daoist was silent and speechless.

Soil actually also has an age, and also goes through “birth, aging, sickness, and death.” The world says that being unmoving is like a mountain, but that is not entirely true. In the end, it is still because ordinary people’s lifespans are limited, time is limited, they see things blurred, neither true nor far-reaching. Therefore, the Buddhists say, “The Buddha sees forty-eight thousand insects in a bowl of water,” and the old monk of the Great Round Moon Temple uses this as a method of meditation, only he sees it on a larger scale, which is moon gazing.

As for this old Daoist, he sees it even more quietly, watching the changes of these inanimate objects over the years.

The Daoist temple and the temple are neighbors, and that old monk has been expounding his Dharma for a thousand years, but they have still not been able to decide who is superior.

Now it depends on whether he becomes a Heavenly Sovereign first, or the old monk becomes a Bodhisattva first.

The young Daoist boy Xu Song cautiously came to his master’s side, and seeing that his master was deep in thought, Xu Song kept silent.

The old Daoist did not turn his head, but smiled and asked, “Outside the temple, not only did you fail to show off your power, but you were also taught a lesson by a young martial artist. Do you think what he said was reasonable?”

The young Daoist boy, holding the horsetail whisk, said sullenly, “Whether what he said is reasonable or not has nothing to do with me.”

The old Daoist nodded, dropped the soil, gently smoothed it with his jade-white palm, and after standing up, said, “All things with spirituality, and sentient beings with emotions, gradually rise higher and higher, and will increasingly understand the ruthlessness of the Great Dao. If you can learn the Dragon Tiger Mountain Daoist’s methods of subduing demons and doing good deeds every day to accumulate merit, that is not bad, but following me to learn the method of ruthlessness, to seek the truth, is even better.”

The old Daoist smiled, “The method of ruthlessness is not to teach you to act violently, to kill innocent people indiscriminately, but to look more at the four seasons becoming a year, the constancy of heaven and earth.”

The young Daoist boy solemnly gave his master a Daoist salute.
The old Daoist turned his head, gazing towards the direction of the Great Round Moon Temple, and softly murmured, “Greed, hatred, delusion, arrogance, and doubt. If these five poisons are not eradicated, and one merely buries oneself in arduous cultivation, then what is attained in the end will not be true Dharma Samadhi, but rather a heretical fixation.”

The old Daoist then looked beyond the peach blossom forest, towards the north. “Xu Song, if you cannot comprehend the Grand Dao for now, you might as well try to be what the secular world considers a ‘good person.’ Just remember, when interacting with the world and performing good deeds, the good and bad that the world returns to you are of little consequence. Different paths lead to the same destination, and this too is a form of the Way of Ruthlessness…a facet of the Dao that follows its own course.”

The young Daoist shook his head, “I can’t be that kind of ‘good person’.”

The old Daoist remained noncommittal.

The young Daoist cautiously asked, “Master, is the true Profound Capital Temple also like this, with perpetual spring and blossoming peach blossoms?”

The old Daoist smiled, “Then you shouldn’t stay in this Vast Expanse. Go to the Azure Vault World, where Daoists rule, and see for yourself if it’s true. If you truly have this inclination, I will have the peach tree spirit carry the mountain away from this Demon Valley. You can first cultivate beside that young Sect Master He, and then seek an opportunity to go to the Azure Vault World. The chance to visit the Profound Capital Temple will naturally be greater.”

The young Daoist shook his head vigorously, “No, I won’t go! Wherever Master cultivates, that’s where I will cultivate.”

The old Daoist patted the young Daoist’s head.

The young Daoist’s eyes crinkled into a smile.

The old Daoist suddenly sighed, “I just remembered, it has been so long since I last drank a bowl of Yin-Buried Tea from the Swaying River. After a thousand years, the taste must be even more mellow and rich.”

The twilight deepened. Qingluo Town was not far away, only two hundred *li*. Chen Ping An passed by a lake of eerie green.

Earlier, from a distant mountain peak, he had seen a bonfire lit here, so Chen Ping An had hurried over. If he encountered any night-wandering spirits, he could conveniently slay them for profit.

This trip to Demon Valley had not provided much experience. He only fought one battle at Crow Ridge and threw a single punch in the peach blossom forest. However, the earnings were not bad.

Setting aside the snow-flower robe of Lady Bai of Skin-Smoothtown, there were also more than a dozen sets of valuable, jade-white bones. As for the exact price they could fetch, it was still uncertain.

As for the water from the deep ravine of Precious Mirror Mountain, although not very valuable, it had saved Chen Ping An some trouble. He had drunk two *jin* of the mountain stream water in one go, then breathed and meditated, immersing his mind. Using inner vision, his mind entered the water mansion. The green-clad pageboys in the water mansion were quite joyful.

What he saw by the lake was somewhat unexpected. It was that handsome youth dressed in gilded yellow, accompanied by two retainers. They were probably planning to rest by the lake for the night.

Chen Ping An calculated his pace and route. The other party must have visited Orchid Musk Town, and after touring the sights, they were heading straight back to Qingluo Town along the “official road.” That was why they had crossed paths with him, who had taken a roundabout route.

So, this unremarkable little lake must be the Emerald Lake mentioned in the *Carefree Collection*. This place and the nearby Copper Official Mountain were a pair, like Daoist partners amidst the landscape.

There were two kinds of fish in Emerald Lake that were very famous, but difficult to catch, with many rules. Chen Ping An had read the tedious details in the book and had to give up.

One was the Golden-Scaled Ying Fish, which had wings and a cry like mandarin ducks. It was extremely rare and valuable, appearing only once every hundred years. Legend had it that Ying Fish always appeared in pairs. If one was caught and brought ashore, the other Ying Fish would voluntarily come ashore and enter the fish basket. A pair of palm-sized Ying Fish, with treasures all over their bodies, could be sold for two Grain Rain Coins. It was rumored that eating them could protect one from any worldly nightmares.

The other was the silver carp. These silver carp were very large, said to grow one *jin* per year. After a hundred years, the fish became extremely strong in the water, unlike the Ying Fish. The silver carp was not unique to this lake. Cultivators called it a “little lake dragon.” Its flesh and scales were unremarkable, but it had one special feature. The silver carp, being a distant relative of the dragon lineage, would grow two dragon whiskers, about an inch long, after living for a hundred years. Then, for every three hundred years that passed, the whiskers would grow another inch. If they could grow into dragon whiskers a foot long, they would be a true treasure of heaven and earth. Adding this to the crafting of demon-binding ropes and horsetail whisks would be the icing on the cake, with boundless wondrous effects.

However, Chen Ping An had traveled through Dragon Ditch and visited Upside-Down Mountain. He knew that there were still Daoists in the world who used authentic dragon whiskers to craft a complete semi-immortal horsetail whisk.

Therefore, Chen Ping An did not have much desire for the Ying Fish and silver carp, which were extremely difficult to find in Emerald Lake.

Because it was too time-consuming.

All the capture records in the *Carefree Collection* showed that cultivators spent a great deal of time, often several months or even half a year, during which they had to engage in a battle of wits and courage with the two types of immortal fish, and often missed their chance.

Compared to Emerald Lake, Chen Ping An had higher hopes for Copper Official Mountain. On that mountain, there were Mountain-Moving Apes and Mountain-Chasing Dogs with impure bloodlines roaming about.

When Chen Ping An appeared, the youth’s expression remained calm and natural.

The sixth-realm female martial artist, carrying a bow and wearing a saber, shifted her position, blocking between her master and the uninvited guest.

The black-robed old man remained expressionless, holding a apricot-yellow porcelain wine pot in one hand and a large piece of braised meat in the other, chewing slowly.

Chen Ping An gathered dry branches in the distance and lit a bonfire as well.

The master and two servants had obviously come for Emerald Lake. After the black-robed old man finished his wine and meat, he took out sections of emerald green bamboo from his spatial artifact and pieced together an extremely long fishing rod. The fishing line was as thin as hair, but the golden fish hook was as big as a hand. The youth was not idle. He rolled up his sleeves, squatted by the water, and prepared the bait for attracting fish. He vigorously rubbed the bait in a wooden basin, adding a spoonful of lake water from time to time. He also took out a porcelain bottle and poured in a few drops of scarlet liquid with a strong fishy smell.

Chen Ping An liked fishing, so he couldn’t help but take a few more glances.

The woman whispered something to the youth.

The youth raised his arm to wipe the sweat from his forehead and said a few words.

The woman got up and walked towards Chen Ping An.

Chen Ping An stood up and said, “I apologize, I did not intend to eavesdrop.”

The woman’s expression was indifferent, but her tone was relatively gentle. “It’s fine to watch. However, my young master said that when fishing for silver carp, it’s best to avoid making noise on the shore. Any slight movement will scare the silver carp away. So, half an hour after we cast our bait, when we cast our lines, we may need both of you to extinguish your bonfires and not move around casually. If you feel restricted, you can rest far away from the shore.”

Chen Ping An nodded, extinguished the bonfire, and simply went to a distance, sat on a large tree, wrapped his hands in his sleeves, and watched the three of them fish for immortal fish at night.
During that time, the young man noticed Chen Ping’an and immediately extinguished the campfire, turning his head to offer an apologetic smile. Chen Ping’an returned the gesture with a smile and a nod.

The woman returned to the young man’s side, visibly relieved.

The young man chuckled, “Sister Fan, if I keep tossing in bait like this, Coppergreen Lake is going to rise a foot!”

The woman offered a helpless smile.

When angling for extraordinary fish within vast lakes and marshes, the act of chumming the water with bait is indispensable. Furthermore, it is incredibly costly in terms of immortal coin. The rarer the fish, the more a fisherman needs to spend lavishly. Their young master never held back, so among those in the know on the mountain, the saying went around that the young master should be nicknamed “Yuan, a Foot of Wealth”.

Although Chen Ping’an was some distance away, he could tell that the wealthy-looking youth was sinking a considerable fortune into this act of baiting the waters.

This wasn’t a matter of a few snowflakes of coin; it could well be a silver of “Lesser Heat” coin.

After chumming the waters, the three of them began to wait quietly.

Chen Ping’an removed his gourd for nurturing swords, took a sip of mountain stream water, and closed his eyes to gather his spirit.

It wasn’t until the black-robed old man cast his line that Chen Ping’an opened his eyes.

The wind howled.

The fishing line arced greatly, falling far into the central area of Coppergreen Lake.

The long night stretched on.

Night fishing for large and monstrous creatures required patience, even more than skill.

The young man sat on a small rosewood stool, his hands propping up his chin, yawning incessantly.

The woman continued to stand behind the young man, wary of the young rogue in the bamboo hat in the distance. When descending the mountain to travel, one must not harbor malicious intentions, but one must be mindful of others’ maliciousness.

After two hours, the young man had begun to doze off.

The black-robed old man lightly lifted his rod several times to disperse the bait further, then continued casting, his patience seemingly endless.

The female martial artist remained completely still.

Chen Ping’an leaned against the tree trunk, looking up at the night sky.

The bright moon rises above the high mountains, amidst a vast expanse of clouds.

The Blessed Land teemed with countless mountains and rivers, but had only one moon.

Chen Ping’an fell into a daze.

He had heard that there were many immortal paintings, masterpieces, on the mountain, where a single scroll could depict sunrise and moonset, the changing seasons, and the blooming and withering of flowers.

How could heaven and earth be so vast, and man so insignificant?

Why does one feel so lonely after growing up?

Chen Ping’an gently lowered his bamboo hat, obscuring his face.

Miss Ning, I am well. Are you well?