A venerable and a youthful Daoist priest, adhering to local customs, could only proceed on foot. The old Daoist, no exception, walked alongside his disciple along the riverbank, the young Daoist Zhang Shanfeng, his eyes wide with wonder.

The Chen Clan of Yingyin truly lived up to their reputation as the sole possessors of “pure Confucianism,” veritable masters of erecting commemorative arches, and perhaps the foremost scholarly family in the world.

In truth, it wasn’t that they couldn’t afford to hire a horse-drawn carriage to reach the Chen Clan’s ancestral hall, but their purse was quite empty. Even if Zhang Shanfeng agreed, the silver in his pocket wouldn’t.

Fortunately, Zhang Shanfeng was accustomed to traversing the rivers and mountains of the martial world. He only felt a twinge of guilt for making his master suffer alongside him. Although his master’s cultivation might not be high, he had long achieved *bigu* (grain avoidance), so these hundreds of *li* might not be too difficult for him. Still, a disciple should have filial piety, shouldn’t he? However, every time Zhang Shanfeng turned back, his master was always walking along, nodding off like a chick pecking at rice. This made Zhang Shanfeng admire him greatly; his master could even sleep while walking!

Passing by a verdant stone cliff on the riverbank, Zhang Shanfeng saw a young man in Confucian robes, his back to them, lost in thought.

The Fire Dragon True Man opened his eyes and smiled, “Another one who loves to sleep. His future will surely be remarkable.”

Zhang Shanfeng sulked, “Master, when I first ascended the mountain, I was young and loved to sleep. Why didn’t Master say these things then? Why did Senior Brother Xiangzhi always treat every trifle as an imperial edict, forcing me to get up and cultivate? Senior Brother Xiangzhi always said my talent was as good as his, and it would be a pity if I didn’t cultivate diligently. So even if Master didn’t care, he, as a senior brother, couldn’t bear to see me waste my predestined fate for cultivation on the mountain. Hmph, only later did I realize that Senior Brother Xiangzhi was only at the Cave Abode Realm! But he always spoke with such an air, making me think he was a Golden Core Earth Immortal. So when Senior Brother passed away, I cried so bitterly, not only because I couldn’t bear to part with him, but also because I was somewhat disappointed in myself, feeling both clumsy and lazy, and thinking I would never even reach the Cave Abode Realm in this lifetime.”

The Fire Dragon True Man laughed, “How did Master’s decrees and orders become trifles? Besides, is the Cave Abode Realm really that low?”

Outside Crouching Peak, beneath the Fire Dragon True Man sat the four main lineages of Azure Glow, Peach Mountain, White Cloud, and Pointing Mystery. Even though the Fire Dragon True Man had never deliberately established any mountain rules or regulations, so any disciple could wander around Crouching Peak without any restrictions, the peak-opening Great Cultivators, including the Azure Glow Perfected Lord Li Yu, forbade disciples of their lineages from disturbing the True Man’s sleep on Crouching Peak. And the cultivators of Crouching Peak were notoriously averse to going out, and their cultivation was indeed not high. Therefore, regardless of seniority, almost everyone, like Gu Mo, the closed-door disciple of the Azure Glow Perfected Lord, had only one impression of the uncles and grand-uncles of Crouching Peak: high seniority, low Daoist arts.

During this time, Zhang Shanfeng was probably the most deceived among the Crouching Peak Daoists. Perhaps in the eyes of Great Cultivators like Perfected Lord Li Yu, this junior brother was hopelessly oblivious, but seeing that Master and this junior brother got along so well, they dared not add any superfluous touches.

What happened then wasn’t much. Back then, Zhang Shanfeng declared that he would descend the mountain to slay demons and eliminate evil, and Master Fire Dragon True Man tricked his disciple again, saying that since he was going down the mountain to train, he might as well go a little further, because there weren’t many demons or monsters around Crouching Peak. As a result, Zhang Shanfeng not only went far away from Crouching Peak, but later simply traveled to the Treasure Bottle Continent. Except for the Azure Glow Perfected Lord, who was in seclusion at the time, the peak-opening ancestors of Peach Mountain, White Cloud, and Pointing Mystery were actually a little panicked, fearing that their junior brother was too far away from their mountain peaks and might have accidents. Especially the Jade Purity Realm Daoist of Pointing Mystery Peak, whose combat strength could be regarded as immortal, hoped that Master would allow him to leave the Northern Gulum Continent and go to the Treasure Bottle Continent to secretly protect Zhang Shanfeng. But the Fire Dragon True Man did not agree, saying that Daoists only needed to cultivate themselves, and that someone’s protection would not lead to success.

The three peak-opening ancestors felt that it was still a little inappropriate, but Master’s words were always regarded as imperial decrees, so they dared not disobey. However, the ancestor of the White Cloud lineage secretly conspired with the other two junior brothers, feeling that Master was not attentive enough to their junior brother, so they, as senior brothers, must shoulder the responsibility of protecting him. Then, this old Daoist Immortal found an impeccable excuse and went down the mountain with his two junior brothers, changing their route to secretly escort Zhang Shanfeng for a journey. Therefore, the perilous experiences that Zhang Shanfeng had in slaying demons and eliminating evil down the mountain, and the loss of heart after the hardships, was known to the White Cloud Ancestor, which meant that the other two lineages also knew. Especially when the Pointing Mystery Ancestor learned that Zhang Shanfeng had sadly boarded that Floating Jade Mountain ferry, the Peach Mountain Ancestor calculated with his fingers and was shocked. The former could no longer restrain himself and planned to let his Pointing Mystery Peak junior brother carry his sword down the mountain to protect his junior brother, even if Master didn’t allow him to follow. Unexpectedly, the Fire Dragon True Man suddenly appeared and stopped them. The Pointing Mystery Peak Ancestor still wanted to argue, but he was slapped on the head by Master and pushed back to the seclusion grotto of Pointing Mystery Peak with one hand. When the Fire Dragon True Man turned his head and looked at the direct disciple of the Peach Mountain lineage with a smile, the latter immediately said that there was no need to trouble Master, and he would return to the mountain peak for seclusion.

Later.

The White Cloud lineage ancestor received a flying sword message from the ancestral hall of Crouching Peak and obediently rushed back to Crouching Peak, where he was undoubtedly scolded.

However, when he left Crouching Peak, he was full of joy. Only then did the Peach Mountain and Pointing Mystery junior brothers know that Master had scolded their senior brother and rewarded him with a date to eat.

Well, everything was actually under Master’s control, it all depended on who had more courage and paid more attention to the junior brother, daring to take the risk of being questioned by Master and resolutely going down the mountain to escort him? Both were experts, and they instantly understood everything. So the Pointing Mystery Peak Ancestor chased after his White Cloud lineage senior brother, saying that he wanted to have a sparring match. Unfortunately, the senior brother escaped quickly, not giving the junior brother a chance to vent his anger.

Arriving at this green stone cliff on the riverbank, they were actually close to the Chen Clan. A few dozen *li* of distance was only a few steps away in terms of state of mind for a cultivator, even without riding the wind.

Zhang Shanfeng reminded, “Master, although we were invited this time, we still have to have the proper etiquette when visiting. Don’t learn from that time in the Mirage Marsh of the Central Land, where you just stomped your feet to greet the host, and they had to show up to meet us.”

The Fire Dragon True Man nodded and smiled, “Okay.”

Zhang Shanfeng asked doubtfully, “Will those few books that I bought from the bookstore really not make those scholars think we’re impolite?”
Venerable Fire Dragon shook his head, saying, “To gift books to a scholar is the greatest courtesy in all the world.”

Zhang Shanfeng felt somewhat relieved.

In truth, the young Daoist still did not know whom they had met, master and disciple.

Zhang Shanfeng thought of something. “Master, we cultivators embrace the Dao in the mountains, cleansing our hearts with the spiritual essence of the natural world, without audience with kings or homage to emperors. But how do those Confucian disciples cultivate? Can they truly rely on nothing but reading? If reading alone can cultivate境界 (jingjie – realm/state of cultivation), wouldn’t everyone in the world be able to cultivate? If someone were to secretly take the books of the Radiant Land to other lands, especially that Savage Land, wouldn’t that be a calamity? Wouldn’t the demons gain a large number of cultivators for no reason, resulting in more demons able to assault the Sword Qi Great Wall? How could this be good?”

Venerable Fire Dragon chuckled. “These are indeed excellent questions, but it is not appropriate for an old Daoist like me to answer them, or it would truly be a breach of propriety, wouldn’t it?”

Zhang Shanfeng suddenly felt a refreshing breeze upon his face. He turned his head and saw an old Confucian scholar in a green robe approaching, nodding and smiling. “Before answering your questions, I’d like to know what books you’ve brought as a gift for me?”

Venerable Fire Dragon patted his disciple’s shoulder. “Shanfeng, did you see that? Someone is asking for a gift from you.”

Zhang Shanfeng quickly made a Daoist greeting, addressing him as Elder Chen, then unwrapped his bundle and took out three books.

The old man accepted them, glanced at them, and sighed with resignation. After thanking the young Daoist, he still placed them within his sleeve.

This Chen Chun’an was regarded by the world as the foremost disciple of the lineage of the Second Sage.

Yet this Grand Celestial Master from Dragon Tiger Mountain, an outsider no less, had given him three books that the lineage of the Literary Sage should have forbidden and destroyed.

After accepting the books, Chen Chun’an said, “The path of Confucian disciples is actually not much different from that of Daoist cultivators; it’s just that they cultivate the righteous spirit within their hearts. You embrace the Dao in the mountains, far from the mundane world, creating a pure realm free from dust and separation of self and object. We scholars, on the other hand, simply ‘close our doors to read, and we are in the deep mountains.’ As for the place and method of cultivation, they are the study and the books of the sages, and the principles contained within the words on those pages. However, there are certainly thresholds within this. Not everyone can truly cultivate simply by turning the pages of a book. For example, the foundational breathing techniques must be taught by virtuous gentlemen to the scholars of the academies. Furthermore, innate talent for cultivation is another barrier. Therefore, many brilliant men of letters, many old Confucian scholars filled with books, are still unable to prolong their lives through reading.”

Zhang Shanfeng found this explanation rather mystical but still bowed and said, “Thank you, sir, for dispelling my confusion.”

Chen Chun’an smiled. “There is no need for excessive formality. Scholars reading and cultivators cultivating are both fellow travelers on the Dao. Courtesy lies in simplicity and sincerity, not in abundance or appearance.”

In fact, Chen Chun’an knew the answer to Zhang Shanfeng’s last question but deliberately did not reveal it.

Contrary to what the young Daoist thought, the Confucian school never forbade sentient beings from reading and cultivating.

This was a rule established by the Sage of Rites.

Zhang Shanfeng turned his head to look at his master.

Venerable Fire Dragon said with amusement, “What? You’ve just met an otherworldly expert that you imagined by the roadside and you’re already disliking your own master for lacking the bearing of a celestial being?”

Zhang Shanfeng blinked.

*You’re* the one who said that, Master, I didn’t think that.

Venerable Fire Dragon pointed to a blue stone cliff not far away. “Is that the kid practicing swords in his dream?”

Chen Chun’an nodded. “It’s a pity that he will have to return to Treasure Bottle Continent eventually; I’m somewhat reluctant. I’ve often chatted with him here these past few years; I probably won’t have the opportunity to do so again.”

Venerable Fire Dragon said to Zhang Shanfeng, “That person is Chen Ping’an’s best friend. Why don’t you go say hello?”

Zhang Shanfeng was stunned for a moment. He bid farewell to his master and the old gentleman and hurried over.

Venerable Fire Dragon and Chen Chun’an did not go towards the ancestral hall of the Yingyin Chen clan. Instead, they walked slowly along the river. The old Venerable said, “At least you’re present in the Southern Jambudvipa Continent. What about the Eastern Greenleaf Continent and the Southwestern Soaring Roc Continent? What will you do?”

Chen Chun’an remained silent for a long time.

In fact, this question was somewhat strange.

If the demons of the Savage Land were truly able to break through the Sword Qi Great Wall and their armies flooded like the tide, submerging that greatest mountain-shaped seal in the world, the Upside-Down Mountain…

Then it was uncertain whether Chen Chun’an could even defend the Southern Jambudvipa Continent, which was closest to the Upside-Down Mountain. What, then, did the Greenleaf and Soaring Roc Continents have to do with him, Chen Chun’an?

Chen Chun’an smiled. “Old Literary Sage once advised me, the meaning of which amounts to giving me two choices: either don’t die, or simply die sooner, and don’t die at some moment that is neither too early nor too late.”

Venerable Fire Dragon sighed with emotion. “Literary Sage senior, there is no one else in the world who can understand the hearts of men and human nature like he does.”

Venerable Fire Dragon was immeasurably older than that Old Literary Sage, but when mentioning him, he still sincerely and respectfully called him Senior.

Chen Chun’an nodded.

He did not refute.

Even though he was a pillar of the Second Sage’s lineage, Chen Chun’an’s own learning, and the aims of the Old Literary Sage’s learning, were fundamentally opposed.

The Confucian school of the Radiant Land…

The disputes between the Sages were disputes over the direction of the Dao. Ultimately, it came down to whose Great Dao could better protect the common people and benefit the world.

The disputes between gentlemen were disputes over the magnitude of right and wrong, to distinguish what was right from wrong.

The disputes between virtuous men were only disputes over the temporary merit of their own learning, just a battle on paper.

The cumbersome rules of the Confucian school were the greatest guardians of this Radiant Land.

And the self-imposed limitations of the Confucian Sages were the most restrictive actions in the world.

That one in the Southern Dragon City of Treasure Bottle Continent, who was heavily punished by the Second Sage himself and was regarded by the myriad schools of cultivators as having lost his eligibility as one of the seventy-two who accompanied the Sage in enjoying cold pork head meat, had also, in matters of learning, greatly benefited Confucian disciples of different lineages from academies in various continents, enabling them to ascend from virtuous men to gentlemen. Therefore, even though this person was an irreconcilable enemy of the Old Literary Sage’s non-disciple disciple, the Old Literary Sage was still willing to acknowledge the excellence of this person’s learning, seeing its potential merit for the present world.

The passage of time is like this, never ceasing day or night.

Two old men, reunited after a long separation, were chatting about the greatest matters in the world.

Two young men, on the other hand, struck up an instant rapport by the blue stone cliff, talking about trivial matters.

The young Confucian scholar dozing there was none other than Liu Xianyang, whom Chen Dui had brought from the Jade Pearl Grotto-Heaven of Treasure Bottle Continent to the Southern Jambudvipa Continent.
After learning that the young Daoist named Zhang Shanfeng was a close friend of Chen Ping’an, traveling together, Liu Xianyang was overjoyed and inquired with Zhang Shanfeng about their journey’s sights and experiences.

Liu Xianyang knew some inside information about the Treasure Bottle Continent, the Great Li Iron Cavalry, and the Li Pearl Grotto-Heaven, but not much. He could only glean bits and pieces from the local gazettes, searching for clues. Liu Xianyang was studying away from home, without any support, so he had to be frugal. Because in the Yingyin Chen Clan, all the books, no matter how rare and expensive, could be read freely by those who sought knowledge. However, the local gazettes cost money. Fortunately, Liu Xianyang had befriended several Chen Clan disciples and Confucian scholars in this place, and now they were friends, through whom he could learn about events in other continents.

Compared to the tall, cheerful young man from the small town back then.

The current Liu Xianyang had become increasingly steady and restrained, diligent in his studies, rigorous in his scholarship, and never relaxed in his secret cultivation, becoming more and more in harmony with the Chen Clan’s Confucian traditions and the surrounding landscape.

Conversely, the silent young man from Mud Bottle Alley, Liu Xianyang’s best friend, was pursuing the freedom of his heart, seeking and obtaining what he desired.

Zhang Shanfeng revealed all of Chen Ping’an’s good qualities without reservation.

For this young Daoist from Crouching Peak, even if he knew that he had missed the opportunity to become the Great Celestial Master of Dragon Tiger Mountain, he might feel a little regret, but not much sadness. He would probably think that his master was foolish. How could Zhang Shanfeng dare to aspire to the position of a non-surname Great Celestial Master of the Celestial Master’s Mansion? He wouldn’t even dare to think about it. Even if he knew about that inexplicable missed opportunity, Zhang Shanfeng wouldn’t let it disturb his Daoist heart too much.

This might be Zhang Shanfeng’s most unconscious and precious trait.

Even more unconscious than his feeling that his master’s Daoist magic was mediocre and not high.

However, when Zhang Shanfeng talked about his two separations from Chen Ping’an, he was genuinely saddened.

Zhang Shanfeng took off an ancient sword from his back and handed it to Liu Xianyang, whom he had just met but considered a friend, smiling brightly, “This is the sword that Chen Ping’an bought in Qingfu Market, named ‘Zhenwu’. The military armor pellet that could create a suit of nectar armor was also bought on credit. I owe Chen Ping’an a lot. But now my master has helped me obtain two bottles of water pills from an old friend in the Mirage Swamp, and I can send them to Chen Ping’an whenever I have the chance, as interest repayment.”

Liu Xianyang slowly drew the sword from its scabbard, revealing fine cracks and rust.

He flicked the blade with his finger, causing a slight tremor, nodded, and said, “It’s heavy.”

Zhang Shanfeng was puzzled, “This sword isn’t that heavy, is it?”

Liu Xianyang narrowed his eyes and stared at the subtle ripples on the blade, able to discern the profound mysteries within. This had nothing to do with Liu Xianyang’s level of cultivation. In fact, in his dreams, Liu Xianyang had been to many absurd ancient battlefield ruins and had seen countless good swords. Many he could draw, many he couldn’t lift no matter what, even if they were broken swords. Liu Xianyang still couldn’t lift them with his own hands, but Liu Xianyang was used to remembering the ancient seal script names of those swords, the styles of the scabbards, the patterns of the sword energy, and carefully feeling the differences in the sword intents of each sword. Even more mysterious was the fact that he, a “foreigner from modern times” who could ignore the passage of time in his dreams, often.

Often, he would “become an ancient person” and unleash the sword, instantly shattering all of Liu Xianyang’s spiritual thoughts, forcing him to withdraw from the dream, drenched in sweat. In even worse situations, Liu Xianyang would vomit blood on the spot, and would feel dizzy for several days afterward.

Therefore, regarding swords.

Liu Xianyang was already an expert in this field.

Not talking about cultivation realm, only talking about the height of his vision, the breadth of his vision, perhaps even surpassing many sword immortals of the Northern Entirety Continent.

Liu Xianyang gently sheathed the sword.

This sword.

He had never seen it in his dreams.

But that feeling, it seemed, he had clearly felt it on the largest ancient battlefield ruins, being in the midst of it, would make Liu Xianyang stagger, only feeling that the heaven and earth had become a few points heavier.

As for whether this sword was exactly that sword, it was hard to say. Perhaps it was so exquisitely imitated that it carried a little bit of “sword intent.”

Zhang Shanfeng carried the Zhenwu ancient sword on his back again, and turned his head, only to find that the tall young man seemed very sad.

Zhang Shanfeng was a little puzzled. Why, upon hearing that his best friend from his hometown was so promising and still a good person who had not changed his original intentions, was Liu Xianyang’s sadness greater than his joy?

Liu Xianyang clasped his hands into fists and rested them on his knees, gazing into the distance, and said softly, “You knew Chen Ping’an later than I did, so you may not know that that guy’s greatest hope in this life is to be safe and sound, just like that. He’s the least brave, the most afraid of illness and disaster. But in the beginning, he was the one who feared ghosts the least in the world. Isn’t that strange? At that time, it seemed like he felt that he had already tried his best to live. If he still had to die, he would have a clear conscience. Anyway, if he died, maybe he would meet people again elsewhere.”

Liu Xianyang murmured, “So the Chen Ping’an you know has become so cautious, it must be because he has found a reason why he absolutely cannot die. Do you think there is anything wrong with this change? I also think it’s very good, but I know that this will make him live very tired. When we met, besides me, no one knew how much he had done for the sake of the mother and daughter in Mud Bottle Alley who had been kind to him, how much thought he had put in, and how much grievance he had endured.”

Liu Xianyang smiled, “I’ve only seen him cry twice in my life. The last time was when I was about to die. The first time was a long time ago, when I was an apprentice in the Dragon Kiln with him. We heard some rumors from Apricot Blossom Lane, scolding that the woman in Mud Bottle Alley had some unclear relationship with him. I got up in the middle of the night and didn’t see him. When I went out, I saw him sitting outside the door with a bench, his face full of tears.”

“I squatted next to him, and after knowing what had happened, I was very bold since I was a child, and I never cared about the dirty things in the marketplace.”
Initially, he regarded it as a jest, smiling and asking if such a fortunate event had truly transpired. But at that time, he was so heartbroken he had lost all spirit, and simply ignored me. That’s how I knew he was truly and utterly devastated. It was then I ceased my jesting. I am no good at consoling others, so I merely stayed by his side. In the end, he came to terms with it himself. He told me that the benevolence of the Gu family could never be repaid in a single lifetime, and that in the future, he would dedicate himself even more diligently to serving the mother and son, so as to avoid gossip and whispers. He could not simply indulge his own feelings, acting recklessly without regard for consequences, for in the end, it would only cause greater suffering for Gu Can and his mother.”

Liu Xianyang leaned back, resting his head on his hands, and said, “Actually, I wanted to tell him then, ‘Is it possible that Gu Can’s mother simply doesn’t care about the idle talk, and that you, Chen Pingan, are just hiding here, overthinking things?’ But in the end, I didn’t say those words, because I couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t bear for the Chen Pingan of that moment to change in any way. I feared that if I spoke, Chen Pingan would awaken, and he wouldn’t be as kind to me, Liu Xianyang. These were all selfish thoughts, for I knew then that if he was less kind to Gu Can today, he would naturally be less kind to me, Liu Xianyang, tomorrow. But after traversing a continent and arriving here, so many years later, I now regret it. I shouldn’t have allowed Chen Pingan to remain the same Chen Pingan. He should have thought more for himself. Why must he live his entire life for others? By what right? Simply because Chen Pingan is Chen Pingan?”

In the twilight, on a stone cliff by the riverbank, a gentle breeze caressed the face.

Tonight, the bright moon would likely grace the sky once more.

Zhang Shanfeng remained silent for a long time, before softly asking, “When will you return to your hometown for a visit?”

Liu Xianyang lay there, eyes closed. “I’ll strive to do so as soon as possible, perhaps in a decade at the earliest.”

Zhang Shanfeng sighed. “It should be sooner. The books say that returning home without riches is like wearing brocade at night. Cultivating the Dao is, in truth, difficult. One loses track of the seasons on the mountain, and it seems like the blink of an eye before returning to one’s hometown. What remains then? And what can one boast about? Even if the family still exists, and there are descendants, what more can be said?”

Liu Xianyang said, “I have no particular attachment to my hometown. I am not returning to prove anything to anyone. So when I return to the Baoping Continent, the first place I will visit will not be that small town, and the first person I wish to see will not be Chen Pingan.”

Zhang Shanfeng turned to look at him. “A knot in your heart?”

Liu Xianyang still kept his eyes closed, smiling faintly. “A knot can only be undone with death.”

Liu Xianyang opened his eyes and abruptly sat up. “Upon arriving at Baoping Continent, I, Liu Xianyang, shall choose a Mid-Autumn Festival night and, in a dream, test my sword against the Zhengyang Mountain!”

Zhang Shanfeng softly inquired, “Not waiting for Chen Pingan to join you?”

Liu Xianyang crossed his arms and laughed heartily, “Don’t forget, it has always been I, Liu Xianyang, who has taken care of Chen Pingan!”

However, Liu Xianyang did not forget.

In truth, from the very first day they met, it was Chen Pingan who saved him, Liu Xianyang, in that Mud Bottle Alley.

Zhang Shanfeng did not think Liu Xianyang was boasting.

Because Chen Pingan had often mentioned a fellow named Liu Xianyang, who had taken care of him greatly and taught him much.

However, regarding their youthful meeting and separation, Chen Pingan had not uttered a single word to his closest friend.

Liu Xianyang suddenly turned his head, looking towards the northeast.

His heart stirred.

Liu Xianyang suddenly said, “I need to sleep for a while.”

Zhang Shanfeng felt somewhat helpless, finding him quite similar to his own master.

In the distance.

Two old men, one in a scholar’s robe and the other in a Taoist robe, sighed simultaneously.

The Fire Dragon True Man was especially sentimental.

Because his old friend, who had visited Crouching Peak before traveling to Inverted Mountain, was the first sword immortal from the Northern Ju Lu Continent to fall in battle south of the Sword Qi Great Wall.

Now, after receiving news, the Northern Ju Lu Continent had stirred.

This was an ancient tradition passed down through generations in the Northern Ju Lu Continent.

The entire continent offered sacrifices to the sword.

Sword Qi soared to the heavens.

The world knew.

Upon that small hill in the Hibiscus Kingdom, Chen Pingan remained quietly for three days, practicing his fist techniques and cultivating.

Regarding the matter of breathing exercises for cultivators, Chen Pingan had never been so focused and dedicated. Once he sat cross-legged, he could completely lose himself.

When the time arrived, Liu Jinglong’s array, capable of withstanding three attacks from a nascent soul cultivator, dissipated on its own.

These movements were what caused Chen Pingan to open his eyes.

Previously, Chen Pingan had already taken off the black Dharma robe, changing into a plain green shirt. Chen Pingan shouldered his bamboo box and retrieved his ordinary green bamboo walking stick, descending the mountain.

Once again, he resembled a green-robed scholar traveling to study.

The pure cultivation of cultivators in the lower five realms, besides refining the spiritual energy of heaven and earth and incorporating it into their own miniature world’s “Grotto-Heavens,” could also strengthen their tendons and bones, making them different from ordinary people. Upon entering the Cave Mansion realm, their tendons and bones would become firm and heavy, lustrous like green jade, and the power of the Dao would be evident in this. After entering the Golden Core realm, they would advance further, and together, the tendons, bones, and meridians would take on the aura of “Golden Branches and Jade Leaves.” Within and without the Qi Repository, clouds and mist would pervade and linger for a long time. Especially after entering the Nascent Soul realm, it was as if they opened up small human-body Grotto-Heavens in key acupoints, taking the heaven and earth spiritual energy, condensed like the juice of the Golden Core, to a further level, nurturing a nascent soul little person that corresponded with their own great Dao. This was the foundation of the Yang Spirit’s outer body for cultivators in the upper five realms, although, similar to the Golden Core, each possessed different levels of quality.

This was the cultivator’s innate talent and aptitude.

The so-called innate talent of a cultivator was the size of the human body’s small world, how large the vessel was that carried spiritual energy.

As for aptitude, it determined whether a cultivator could ascend to the Earth Immortal realm after embarking on the path of cultivation, and how good the quality of their Golden Core and Nascent Soul would be. There would be a vast difference in the speed of cultivation for different cultivators.

As for temperament, that was cultivating the heart, the most ethereal and elusive aspect, yet often prone to failure at critical moments, and also strangely capable of achieving success. For example, Liu Laocheng of Gongliu Island, how firm was his will, yet the inner demon born of love nearly caused this lone wild cultivator of the Baoping Continent’s upper five realms to die early and fade away. Lu Fang of the Lotus Root Blessing Land was even more trapped by love, and even with Jiang Shangzhen, disguised as Zhou Fei, protecting him for sixty years, he still failed to completely untie the knot in his heart.

Looking at Jiang Shangzhen, he seemed clearly tainted with more of love’s mud, yet he possessed no such inner demon causing trouble.

This was all due to differences in temperament.

As for opportunity, it could not be obtained through bitter seeking, seemingly reliant solely on fate.
In the beginning, there were figures like He Xiaoliang of the Divine Edict Sect, Huang Ting of the Peaceful Mountain in Tongye Continent, and, of course, Li Huai, who was well-acquainted with Chen Ping’an. All possessed a luck so profound it defied reason.

Now, Chen Ping’an had successfully refined two Natal Treasures: the Water Character Seal of the Water Mansion and the Five-Colored Earth of Great Li, forging a magnificent landscape of mountains and waters in harmony.

His cultivation would now proceed at a much faster pace.

The absorption and refinement of spiritual energy became increasingly swift and stable.

Therefore, it could be said that as long as Chen Ping’an was willing to seek out a scenic, spiritual land, or even remain rooted on his small hilltop, cultivating day and night, he would constantly advance in cultivation and realm.

It was not difficult to understand why true cultivation prodigies rarely lingered in the mundane world for extended periods. Only when encountering a bottleneck would they descend the mountain for a time, seeking movement in stillness. They would cultivate their hearts, examining the pathways of their minds, lest they stray down a wrong path and unwittingly hit a wall. Many insurmountable barriers were profoundly mysterious; perhaps a single step aside would reveal a new world, or perhaps a journey across heaven and earth, seemingly a detour of thousands of miles, was needed to accumulate sufficient force, to experience a spark of inspiration, and break through the bottleneck in one fell swoop, turning the barrier into nothing more than a passing fancy.

For the average cultivator, the Third Realm was a small but significant hurdle, known on the mountain as the “Realm that Retains People.”

However, this saying was considered utter nonsense within established immortal families with a proper lineage.

This was why wandering cultivators so envied the disciples of recorded immortals.

The Third Realm, a difficult passage for them, requiring them to stumble and bleed to find the path forward, was, for the descendants of great families, as simple as raising a hand and examining their palm. Every path was clear, every detail distinct.

And Chen Ping’an’s Third Realm was akin to that of a wandering cultivator.

Because regarding the matter of cultivation, it seemed no one had ever offered any concrete guidance.

First, there was the matter of his broken and shattered Bridge of Longevity, a subject best left unsaid.

Later, it was the practice of sword-bearing and fist-striking, with focused intention.

Previously, at the Emerald Oriole Inn in Green Oriole Country, Liu Jinglong had, in fact, discussed the key points of cultivation in the Lower Five Realms. However, since they belonged to different schools and lineages, and Liu Jinglong was constrained by the rules and taboos of the mountain, he could not probe Chen Ping’an’s various Qi Mansions and offer tailored guidance. Thus, much of Liu Jinglong’s discourse was about matters to come, not about the immediate specifics. Yet, even so, Liu Jinglong’s words of wisdom were truly invaluable.

Because they were destined to be unerring.

This required Liu Jinglong to stand at a high vantage point on the mountain to speak so clearly and thoroughly.

Chen Ping’an would, of course, keep it firmly in mind.

He would savor the jug of wine left by Liu Jinglong, sipping slowly, intending to save at least half of it.

Refining the first and fifteenth day of the month remained arduous.

As his physical injuries were far from healed, Chen Ping’an walked even more slowly and cautiously.

However, as Chen Ping’an approached the border of Deer Chives County, he sensed something.

He merely pretended not to notice.

Chen Ping’an wouldn’t claim to be particularly skilled or knowledgeable in handling such instances of being tailed, but among his peers, there shouldn’t be many better.

Earlier, there was the covert following of Li Fuchu, a Nascent Soul cultivator from the Book Scroll Lake, whose presence Chen Ping’an had detected early on. Then there was the mutual scheming with Gao Cheng of Jingguan City in North Ju Lush Continent, and the second wave of assassins from Dividing Deer Mountain.

Moreover, the current stealthy assassin was not of particularly high cultivation and merely thought he was well-concealed. However, the opponent was remarkably patient, refraining from acting despite several seemingly opportune moments.

Chen Ping’an simply allowed the assassin to help him “protect the Dao.”

Deer Chives County was the hometown of Lu Dun, the down-on-his-luck scholar he had met on the mountain.

However, Chen Ping’an had no intention of visiting his home, because even if he had the inclination, he might not be able to find him.

A scholar whose attendant was surnamed Zhou instead of Lu might be acting out of caution, not revealing his true surname to Chen Ping’an.

But Chen Ping’an felt that this was the right approach.

True sincerity in dealing with others never consisted solely of verbal expressions of heartfelt sentiments.

To speak intimately with strangers and carelessly reveal one’s heart was a way to easily mislead oneself.

If one couldn’t even take responsibility for oneself, how could one take responsibility for the world and others, and then bestow genuine goodwill?

But while the principle was sound, in a world where treating others with genuine sincerity was sometimes considered a mistake, it was still not ideal.

Chen Ping’an bypassed a small town, not intending to entangle himself endlessly with the assassin.

Thus, on a secluded road, his figure suddenly vanished, appearing beside the assassin, who was lying prone in a reed thicket. Chen Ping’an stood atop a reed stalk, his form swaying with the wind and the reed, silently. He looked down; it appeared to be a young man, clad in a black robe and wearing a snow-white mask, undoubtedly a Dividing Deer Mountain cultivator. This was the most intriguing aspect. This Dividing Deer Mountain assassin had followed him, Chen Ping’an, with great hardship. Either Qi Jinglong had failed to find anyone or had difficulty reasoning with them, and Dividing Deer Mountain had actually dispatched a cultivator above the Fifth Realm to assassinate him. Or Qi Jinglong had thoroughly explained the situation to them, and Dividing Deer Mountain had chosen to abide by a larger rule. Even if the employers were different, after three assassination attempts on one person, they would never again assassinate that person, even if someone else found Dividing Deer Mountain and offered a mountain of gold and silver.

If that were the case…

Why hadn’t Qi Jinglong shown himself?

Chen Ping’an pondered for a moment and said, “The target’s gone. Aren’t you getting anxious?”

The Dividing Deer Mountain assassin stiffened, turning his head to look at the blue-robed figure standing on the reeds beside him.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to flee, but his intuition told him that fleeing would mean death. Staying put offered a glimmer of hope.

He sat up, removed his mask, and said, “I made an agreement with that Liu fellow. If you discovered my presence, it would count as a failed assassination, and I would have to follow him in cultivation and call him master. So, you can’t kill me.”

Chen Ping’an asked, “Then where is he?”

The youth shook his head, “He told me to tell you that he’s taking a trip to Great Zhuan Capital first, and will come back to find us later.”

The youth, upon saying this, punched the ground, frustrated, “This is my first time coming down the mountain to assassinate someone!”

Chen Ping’an floated down, landing gracefully, and took the lead out of the reed thicket, using his walking stick to clear the path.

The youth hesitated for a moment, then gritted his teeth, discarded the mask, and followed behind the blue-robed man, joining him on the road.

Chen Ping’an slowed his pace, and the youth glanced at him, steeling himself to keep up, walking alongside him.
Regarding the target of this assassination, there were actually some rumors circulating within Deer Severing Mountain. As a key assassin cultivated by Deer Severing Mountain, and having grown up by the side of the mountain lord from a young age, he had the opportunity to know some inside stories.

In short, don’t be fooled by this guy’s seemingly good temperament, more like a scholar than a scholar. After Deer Severing Mountain’s first assassination attempt, which they were confident in, failed and someone quickly hired the mountain’s assassins again, the mountain lord once told the boy that this fellow was a formidable character, very good at causing trouble and equally adept at resolving it.

Chen Pingan asked, “Are you a swordsman?”

The boy nodded, “My master said I’m a valuable innate sword embryo, so I must cherish my life and not rush into taking on jobs. Otherwise, all the immortal money he invested in me would be a loss. So, I always wanted to start taking on tasks sooner, to help my master and Deer Severing Mountain earn money. Who knew I’d run into someone like the surname Liu? He said he could stand still and let my master attack him at will. After each attack, he would explain a principle to my master, Liu Jinglong. My master attacked twice and listened to two of his principles.”

Saying this, the boy was filled with disappointment.

In his memory, his master’s sword never returned without a kill.

Regardless of the opponent’s cultivation level, their head would always roll.

The boy heavily exhaled a long-held breath, still unable to shake off his depression, and said, “We at Deer Severing Mountain always keep our word. In the end, my master had no choice but to send me to assassinate you. And from now on, I have nothing to do with Deer Severing Mountain. I also have to go with that surname Liu to some blasted Grand Tenuity Sword Sect.”

Chen Pingan smiled and extended his hand, palm open.

The boy frowned, “What for?”

Chen Pingan said, “Shouldn’t you thank me properly for allowing you to go to the Grand Tenuity Sword Sect to cultivate?”

“Are you crazy?!”

The boy rolled his eyes, “Who wants to be a registered immortal master?! It’s just that my skills are lacking. All those opportunities didn’t feel like opportunities to me. Otherwise, I would have stabbed you to death with a single sword strike long ago, guaranteeing a chilling experience!”

Chen Pingan retracted his hand and smiled, “Such heavy killing intent, it’s fitting that you follow Qi Jinglong to cultivate.”

The boy turned his head and spat, “He’s surnamed Liu! Even if he’s more powerful than my mountain lord master, so what? Must I change my allegiance?! Besides, that guy looks like a bookworm. If I follow him to cultivate, having to call that slowpoke ‘Master’ every day, I’m afraid I won’t be able to cultivate even half an immortal sword in this lifetime.”

Chen Pingan said, “Have you ever considered that your master actually hopes you can follow Qi Jinglong?”

The boy was silent for a moment, “I can guess that. I always knew my master was good to me. So, I plan to call the surname Liu ‘Master’ in name, but in my heart, I will only ever recognize my master as my one and only master.”

The boy turned his head, afraid that this guy would badmouth him to Liu Jinglong, and he would likely suffer in the future.

But for some reason, walking on the road with him, he wanted to say more of his innermost thoughts.

Perhaps the changes were too great, and he needed to vent. Otherwise, the boy felt like he would be suffocated to death.

Chen Pingan smiled, “It’s good and right that you can think this way now. If your thoughts change in the future, it doesn’t mean that you’re wrong now.”

The boy frowned, “What do you think you are, daring to speak such grand principles? What’s the matter, you think you’re amazing just because I can’t kill you? So you can point fingers at me?!”

What a temper.

Not good at all.

Chen Pingan didn’t mind, “Who can’t talk about principles? I’m more powerful than you, and I’m still willing to talk about principles, is that a bad thing? Do you want me to punch you to death, or beat you half to death, forcing you to kneel on the ground and beg me to talk about principles? Would that be better?”

The boy was a little headache, and raised his hand, “Stop, stop, don’t start with that! My mountain master was annoyed by the surname Liu for a long time, that’s why he made me pack up and get out, and didn’t allow me to say a word more.”

Chen Pingan smiled, flicked his wrist, and two more jars of glutinous rice wine appeared, “Do you drink wine?”

The boy’s eyes lit up. He directly took one of the wine jars, opened it, and took a huge gulp. Then he said disdainfully, “So this is what wine tastes like, boring.”

Chen Pingan didn’t turn his head, just walked forward slowly, “Since you drank it, stay and finish it, it doesn’t matter if it’s a little later. If you have the nerve to throw it away on the side of the road now, I’ll teach you principles on behalf of Qi Jinglong first, and they will definitely be principles you don’t want to hear.”

The boy’s face was full of sarcasm, tut-tutting, “Look, in the end you’re still using force to suppress people. Seriously, you’re not even as good as that surname Liu!”

Chen Pingan smiled, “While Qi Jinglong hasn’t returned yet, enjoy your wine. If nothing unexpected happens, for a long time in the future, even if you really want to drink someday, you won’t be able to.”

The boy frowned, “You know, the surname Liu told me in advance not to drink if you offer me wine?”

Chen Pingan shook his head, “I’m not an all-knowing immortal.”

The boy raised his arm, looked at the wine jar in his hand, hesitated for a moment, and still didn’t dare to throw it away. He took another sip of rice wine, actually the taste was good, not like that fiery liquor that burns your intestines at all.

It seems that I am naturally able to drink wine.

Worthy of being an innate sword embryo!

He suddenly tentatively asked, “Why don’t you tell the surname Liu, saying that you are willing to take me as a disciple, how about it?”

Chen Pingan ignored him.

The boy then began to persuade the azure-robed guest, saying that he would definitely remember the other’s kindness, and would definitely repay him in the future. When he returned to Deer Severing Mountain, he would re-light incense in the ancestral hall, recognize his ancestors, and could help him assassinate enemies for free in the future…

Chen Pingan asked, “By the way, what’s your name?”

It wasn’t that the boy was in the habit of answering every question, but this name was a matter even more worthy of pride than his status as an innate sword embryo. The boy sneered…