As the summer solstice approached, Chen Ping’an rarely left his residence, dedicating nearly ten hours a day to Qi refinement.

Ning Yao took it to an even greater extreme, entering secluded cultivation.

Whenever there was a flying sword missive from the Ning family, Fan Dache would go to the Ning residence for training, either receiving a beating from Chen Ping’an’s fists or enduring the flying swords of Yan Zhuo or Dong Heitan. Chen Sanqiu would not intervene, but would have to carry Fan Dache home. Yan Zhuo and Dong Heitan each possessed swords named Purple Lightning and Red Makeup, and once drawn, Fan Dache would suffer even more. Fan Dache now only regretted his poor aptitude, possessing only the “Great Thoroughness” without a “Great Comprehension,” unable to break through his current realm. Chen Ping’an said that once Fan Dache reached the Golden Core stage, sword practice would cease, followed by a few loud roars at the wine shop, and all would be accomplished.

How could a Dragon Gate Realm sword cultivator of the Sword Qi Great Wall so easily break through the bottleneck and ascend to the Golden Core stage? For a sword cultivator of the Sword Qi Great Wall, it was like a true coming-of-age ceremony.

The reason the Sword Qi Great Wall was the strongest place for sword cultivators in several realms and attracted waves of sword cultivators from the Vast Expanse to hone their skills naturally lay in its profound secrets. Here, sword cultivators were like pure martial artists being fed punches, constantly and relentlessly, their foundations in each realm forged to perfection. A solid foundation meant a greater bottleneck to break through, as if burdened by the great Dao, unable to stand upright.

The same Fan Dache, the same Dragon Gate Realm, would find it much easier to break through if he went to Upside-Down Mountain in the Vast Expanse. However, such a breakthrough would result in a much lower grade of Golden Core. In the long run, it would be a losing proposition, unless one were a Land Immortal cultivator on the Sword Qi Great Wall with no real hope of breaking through, in which case they might cultivate on Upside-Down Mountain for a period of time, trying their luck. After all, each realm higher than the Golden Core meant a genuine increase in lifespan of a hundred or even a thousand years.

However, the iron law of the Sword Qi Great Wall was that cultivators below the Golden Core stage were forbidden from cultivating on Upside-Down Mountain, to completely eliminate any侥幸心理僥倖心理chance of luck for young sword cultivators. That was why Ning Yao’s secret departure to Upside-Down Mountain was met with considerable disapproval, even though Ning Yao’s aptitude meant she didn’t need shortcuts. However, the Eldest Sword Immortal turned a blind eye, and A Liang secretly protected her, personally accompanying Ning Yao to the Arrest and Release Pavilion on Upside-Down Mountain. Others merely grumbled, and no Sword Immortal actually stopped Ning Yao.

In recent sparring sessions, Chen Ping’an and Fan Dache teamed up against Yan Zhuo and Dong Heitan. They could use their natal flying swords at will, but not their carried swords, and all four only wielded wooden sticks as swords. The method of determining victory was also strange: whoever’s wooden sword broke first lost. As a result, the pile of wooden sticks placed on the sparring field was almost entirely used up by Fan Dache, and that was with Chen Ping’an constantly rescuing him.

In any case, Fan Dache could at least leave the Ning residence standing. Before returning home each time, he would go to the wine shop and drink a pot of the cheapest Bamboo Sea Grotto Heaven wine.

Chen Sanqiu would also discuss the gains and losses of sword practice and flaws in his swordplay with Fan Dache. While Fan Dache drank, he listened attentively to his good friend’s guidance, his eyes shining brightly.

In particular, Chen Ping’an’s suggestion that the four of them should join forces to confront and fight against the senior Sword Immortal Nalan Yexing made Fan Dache eager to try.

Yan Zhuo’s silk shop, in addition to the hundred or so Sword Immortal seals that had been gradually sold, had also launched a newly bound volume of the Two Hundred Sword Immortal Seal Manual, and included a complimentary bamboo fan. The fan was imprinted with some privately collected seal characters not found in the Seal Manual. The fan bones and surface were still made of ordinary materials, the craftsmanship lying only in the poems, verses, and seal script.

Just as the large and small wine shops were forced to hang couplets by Stacked Verdancy Wine Shop, all the large and small cloth and silk shops on the Sword Qi Great Wall were also being forced by Yan Zhuo’s shop to give away delicate items such as folding fans and powder sachets. However, customers, especially wealthy women who were not short of spending money, didn’t seem to be buying from other shops. In fact, many women didn’t necessarily like the seals and folding fans from the Yan family’s shop. It was just that Li Cai and several other female Sword Immortals, as well as many women from wealthy families, frequented the Yan family’s shop, and it seemed that if a woman didn’t buy something there, her taste would be considered inferior.

Not only that, but some usually dull-witted old gentlemen, perhaps after drinking at Stacked Verdancy Wine Shop and hearing something, actually took the unprecedented step of personally visiting or sending servants to the Yan family’s shop to buy some beautiful but impractical silks, along with folding fans, to give to their wives. Many women actually felt that they were overpriced, but when they saw the expectation in the eyes of their wooden husbands, they could only say that they liked them. Afterwards, in their leisure time, in the height of summer, to escape the heat, they would open the folding fan, enjoy the cool breeze, and look at the beautiful words on the fan. If they didn’t understand them, they would quietly ask others. Once they knew the meaning, they would feel that it was truly good.

On this day, Chen Ping’an finished his Qi refinement and took a walk in the night, alone coming to the Dragon Slaying Cliff pavilion.

Ning Yao was now in secluded cultivation in a secret chamber. Before entering seclusion, Ning Yao didn’t say much, only that it wasn’t to break through to the Nascent Soul stage, and that there was no risk involved.

Chen Ping’an would stay on the Sword Qi Great Wall for at least five years. If the great war still hadn’t started by then, he would have to hurriedly return to Treasure Bottle Continent, as there were many matters to attend to at his hometown of Fallen Mountain, and then he would need to immediately set off to return to Upside-Down Mountain. Currently, intercontinental flying sword missives were strictly controlled by both the Sword Qi Great Wall and Upside-Down Mountain, requiring two layers of verification before they could be sent or received. This would be particularly troublesome for Chen Ping’an.

It wasn’t impossible to seize the opportunity to go to Upside-Down Mountain once and hand over secret letters and family letters to the Osmanthus Island of the Fan family in Old Dragon City, or Sun Jiashu’s Sea Mountain Tortoise. As long as they didn’t openly violate the rules, they could try to have them forwarded to Fallen Mountain after arriving in Treasure Bottle Continent. It wouldn’t be too difficult for Chen Ping’an to accomplish this now, but of course there would be a price to pay. Otherwise, the flying sword verification on the Sword Qi Great Wall and Upside-Down Mountain would become a complete joke, as if the Sword Immortals and Dao Lords were merely ornaments. But Chen Ping’an wasn’t afraid of paying the necessary price, but rather didn’t want to involve the Fan family and Sun family in too many whirlpools beyond their legitimate business with Fallen Mountain. They were kind enough to do business with Fallen Mountain, and he couldn’t drag them into numerous vortexes before they even had a chance to share the profits.
Chen Ping’an descended from the Dragon-Slaying Cliff and returned to his humble abode. The side room, which previously only held a table for his seal carving, now contained another table. This new table displayed a hand-drawn map of the Dragon Spring County, a sight that would surely displease the officials of the Kiln Affairs Supervisory Bureau. For upon this map were meticulously marked all the Dragon Spring kilns, both large and small: the Heavenly Pivot Kiln, the Star Dipper Kiln, the Literary Star Kiln, the Martial Dragon Kiln, the Soaring Clouds Kiln, the Floral Kiln, the Paulownia Shade Kiln, the Paperweight Kiln, the Spiritual Fungus Kiln, the Jade Infiltration Kiln, the Lotus Kiln…

On the table also rested two handwritten volumes. One chronicled the history and lineage of each Dragon Kiln, while the other detailed the origins and evolution of the fourteen prominent clans of the town, all penned in dense, meticulous small script. These records would likely unsettle both the Huaihuang County Magistrate and the Grand Li Ministry of Justice.

Much of the information was drawn from Chen Ping’an’s memory, but the greater part consisted of secret files gathered piece by piece, over the past few years, through the Hidden Mountain.

Chen Ping’an stood with his hands tucked into his sleeves, gently rocking back and forth as he gazed at the map.

Without turning his head, he reached out and opened one of the volumes. It was the chapter on the True Sun Mountain. He glanced at it, then flipped the page to the Xu Clan of Clear Wind City.

Familiar faces, indeed.

Their ancestry, eighteen generations deep, was meticulously recorded. Chen Ping’an likely knew more about the detailed history and familial connections of these immortal clans and aristocratic families than even the direct descendants of their ancestral halls.

These were the two main volumes, nearing completion. Two supplementary volumes would follow, containing even more details. One would concern the purchase and sale of destiny porcelain from the Dragon Kilns, and the potential buyers among the immortal clans of Treasure Bottle Continent and the sects of other continents. Besides the seemingly low-level Apricot Blossom Lane Ma family, it would also include the lofty and financially powerful Jade Forest Sect. Writing of the Jade Forest Sect of the Northern Entirely Lush Continent would inevitably involve Xu Xuan, and then the Clear Cool Sect Master, He Xiaoliang, thus drawing in the God Edict Sect, the leader among the immortal clans of Treasure Bottle Continent. The other supplementary volume would detail the myriad connections between the town’s great clans and the various immortal forces outside the Li Zhu Grotto-Heaven. Naturally, these two supplementary volumes would be interwoven, each affecting the other.

Chen Ping’an walked out of the room. Nalan Yehang stood at the door, his expression solemn, tinged with resentment. Beside the old man stood Cui Wei, an unregistered disciple, a Golden Core swordsman born and raised in the Great Wall of Sword Qi.

Nalan Yehang emanated a palpable killing intent, as if he might slay the man on the spot.

Understanding dawned in Chen Ping’an’s heart. He smiled at the old man. “Grandpa Nalan, no need to blame yourself so much. When we have time, I’ll have a session of ‘Heart Questioning Game’ with you.”

Nalan Yehang nodded, then turned to Cui Wei and said, “From tonight forward, you and I, Nalan Yehang, have no master-disciple relationship whatsoever.”

Cui Wei remained stoic, simply offering a cupped-fist apology to the sword immortal.

As for what Cui Wei truly thought, a man who had endured for so long would reveal nothing.

Nalan Yehang vanished in a flash.

Chen Ping’an brought out two chairs. Cui Wei gently sat down. “Mr. Chen has likely already guessed.”

Chen Ping’an nodded. “I had my suspicions from the start, because the surname was too conspicuous. Once bitten, twice shy. I couldn’t help but overthink. However, after so much time observing, my doubts had lessened considerably. After all, you should never have left the Great Wall of Sword Qi. It’s hard to believe someone could be so patient, and even harder to understand why you would be willing to pay such a price. So, can I assume that the one who truly led you onto the path of cultivation was a pawn that Cui Chan planted within the Great Wall of Sword Qi long ago?”

Cui Wei nodded. “Mr. Chen’s guess is correct. It’s not just me. Almost all of us who are unwilling to admit we are spies, like Huang Zhou of the Great Yu Ridge Alley, had our cultivation paths begin with seemingly insignificant accidents, leaving no trace. Thus, we were initially kept completely in the dark. What we should do, what we should say, was all controlled in extremely subtle ways. Finally, one day, like me, Cui Wei, we suddenly receive a specific coded instruction and willingly walk into the Ning manor to reveal our identity to Mr. Chen.”

Cui Wei stated directly, “I won’t say anything about the past, even if Mr. Chen questions me. Saying it is meaningless. The person who first taught me, Cui Wei, has already died on the southern battlefield. I come to the Ning manor today for only one matter: in the future, any secret letters that Mr. Chen sends to Treasure Bottle Continent, can be entrusted to me, Cui Wei, to handle. Of course, Mr. Chen can choose to believe me, or not.”

Chen Ping’an shook his head. “Of course, I don’t trust you, nor will I entrust any letters to you. But rest assured, you, Cui Wei, are neither useful nor harmful to the Ning manor at present. I won’t go out of my way to do anything. In the future, Cui Wei will still be Cui Wei, only without the connection of being an unregistered disciple of Nalan Yehang.”

Cui Wei took out a smooth pebble from his sleeve and handed it to Chen Ping’an. The Golden Core swordsman didn’t say a word.

Chen Ping’an accepted it. It was a stone from the creek of Jade Glade Cliff in Spring Dew Garden, picked up by Cui Dongshan.

Chen Ping’an took the stone, put it in his sleeve, and smiled. “In the future, when we meet, let’s avoid the Ning manor and try to meet near the wine shop. Of course, let’s try to minimize our meetings, to avoid raising suspicion. When I need to find you, I’ll slightly move your ‘nothing to do’ plaque. From next month on, aside from drinking with friends, I won’t move the ‘nothing to do’ plaque unless I need to send or receive a letter. Then I’ll only appear on the first day of the month to meet you. If there are no exceptions, the following month, it will be postponed to the second day. If there are exceptions, I’ll let you know when we meet. Generally speaking, sending and receiving letters twice a year should be enough. If you have a better way to contact me, or concerns about you, you can come up with a plan and tell me later.”

“Understood.”

Cui Wei stood up and left silently.

Chen Ping’an stood up and didn’t see him off.

Nalan Yehang appeared under the eaves, sighing, “It’s hard to know a person’s heart.”

Chen Ping’an smiled. “We should be glad that one ‘unwanted possibility’ has left our side.”

There was no need to say good things for Cui Wei, or to help Nalan Yehang scold Cui Wei.

Nalan Yehang gave a wry smile and was filled with melancholy.

Chen Ping’an led the old man to the opposite side room. The old man took out two pots of wine. There was no need for side dishes.

Chen Ping’an told the old man about the general events of the Heart Questioning Game at Book Brief Lake. There was no point in revealing too many details. Primarily, it was to reassure the old man that it was no shame to lose to Cui Chan.
Nalan Yexing couldn’t help but drink another pot of wine, finally asking, “It was such a torment, how did the son-in-law get through it?”

Chen Pingan smiled and said, “Didn’t Grandpa Nalan already say the answer?”

Nalan Yexing was stunned for a long while, then understood, and laughed heartily.

Sword Qi Great Wall was in the midst of a sweltering summer, but Longquan County in Baoping Continent of the vast world ushered in its first heavy snowfall after entering winter.

The Ancestral Hall of Luopo Mountain was not on the main peak, but a distance from the residences. However, Chen Nuanshu would go to the Hall on Jise Peak every half-month, open the door, and carefully wipe and clean it.

Today, Pei Qian and Zhou Mili followed Chen Nuanshu, saying they wanted to help. On the way, Pei Qian reached out her hand, and the Right Guardian of Luopo Mountain respectfully offered her the walking staff with both hands. Pei Qian brandished the staff, performing the Mad Demon Swordplay all the way, shattering countless snowflakes.

Arriving at the outermost gate of the Ancestral Hall residence, Pei Qian stood on the steps with her staff in both hands, surveying the surroundings. The snow was boundless. With her master not on Luopo Mountain, she, as the first disciple, felt a kind of invincible loneliness.

Chen Nuanshu, carrying a small bucket, took out the key and opened the gate. Behind the gate was a large courtyard, and beyond that, the Ancestral Hall that was never closed. Zhou Mili took the bucket, took a deep breath, and used her innate power to run wildly in the snow-covered courtyard, swinging the bucket vigorously. Soon, she produced a bucket of clear water, raised it high, and handed it to Chen Nuanshu, who was standing on the high ground. Chen Nuanshu was about to cross the threshold and enter the Ancestral Hall, where portraits hung and seats were arranged, when Pei Qian suddenly grabbed Chen Nuanshu, pulling her behind her. Pei Qian bent slightly, held the walking staff, and stared intently at the central chair at the front of the Ancestral Hall.

That was her master’s chair.

Ripples appeared, and then an old gentleman in a Confucian robe with snow-white hair and beard appeared out of thin air.

Pei Qian stared at the thin old man, lost in thought.

Ten thousand lights in the mortal world were like a river of stars.

It was a kind of state of mind she had never seen before, boundless, as if no matter how hard she stared, the scenery would never end.

The Old Scholar stood beside the chair, with three portraits hanging high behind him, looking at the little girl outside the door who had grown a lot, feeling a lot of emotions.

It was not in vain that he had risked his old face, borrowing things from others and making bets with others.

In the end, his last disciple never disappointed the master or senior brothers.

Pei Qian asked, “Venerable Old Master Wen Sheng?”

The Old Scholar was taken aback, never having been addressed like that before. He asked curiously, “Why ‘Old Master’?”

Pei Qian said seriously, “It makes the seniority seem extra high.”

The Old Scholar stroked his beard and smiled, nodding gently, “That is very benevolent.”

Had a certain unteachable secret of his lineage already been brought to light so quickly?

Pei Qian glanced at the highest portrait, withdrew her gaze, and said loudly, “Venerable Old Master Wen Sheng, you as a living person seem to have more prestige than the portrait!”

Chen Nuanshu blinked her eyes, saying nothing.

Zhou Mili tilted her head, frowning hard, glancing back and forth between the portrait and the Old Scholar. She really couldn’t see it.

The Old Scholar coughed a few times, tugged at his collar, straightened his back, and asked, “Really?”

Pei Qian nodded vigorously, shrinking her neck, shaking her head left and right, looking around, tiptoeing to look up and down, and finally nodded, “Absolutely true, definitely right! The Great White Goose praises me for being extremely accurate at judging people!”

The Old Scholar smiled so hard that he couldn’t close his mouth, inviting the three little girls to sit down. After all, they all had seats here. The Old Scholar lowered his voice and said, “It’s enough that you three little girls know about my coming to Luopo Mountain. Don’t tell anyone else.”

Pei Qian coughed, “Nuanshu, Mili!”

Chen Nuanshu immediately nodded, “Okay.”

Zhou Mili carried the walking staff “bestowed” by Pei Qian, puffed out her chest, and closed her mouth tightly.

From now on, she would be a mute. Besides, she was originally a giant water monster from Dumb Lake.

The Old Scholar slowly strolled around the Ancestral Hall. Chen Nuanshu began to wash the chairs skillfully. Pei Qian stood beside her own chair. Zhou Mili wanted to sit on the chair with the Right Guardian’s small paper note, but Pei Qian glared at her. No manners, the master’s elder had come in person, and the Old Scholar hadn’t even sat down yet, what were you sitting for? Zhou Mili immediately stood up straight, feeling a little aggrieved. Wasn’t she just trying to let the Old Scholar know who she was?

The Old Scholar saw it all, smiling, and said nothing.

Being able to bring Pei Qian step by step to where she was today, his closed-door disciple had spent a lot of effort. Teaching her so well was even more commendable.

This was actually the Old Scholar’s third time coming to Luopo Mountain. The previous two times, he had come and gone in a hurry, without even stepping foot here. After this time, he would have a lot to do, a life of hard work.

Earlier, the old man had secretly gone to the town school, standing in one spot, among them.

Looking around, in the past, in this classroom, there should have been a little girl in a red cotton-padded jacket, sitting upright, seemingly listening attentively, but actually wandering thousands of miles away.

There would have been Lin Shouyi, focused and attentive, thinking wherever the teacher pointed.

There would have been Li Huai, nodding off like a chick pecking at rice.

There would have been Zhao Yao, who at that time could not have imagined his future, actually leaving the teacher’s side one day, traveling far in an ox cart, and finally traveling alone in the Central Continent.

There would have been Dong Shuiing, who appeared foolish but was wise, a little girl with pigtails.

The old man stood there at the time, also thinking of a nominal disciple similar to Mao Xiaodong, Ma Zhan, one wrong step leading to another, after finally realizing his mistakes, although he had the opportunity to repent, he was only willing to die to show his determination.

The old man realized that in the end, it seemed that all the faults lay with himself. As a teacher who imparted knowledge, taught professions, and resolved doubts, he did not teach his disciples enough knowledge, and his teaching of how to live a stable life was even worse.

The Old Scholar lowered his head, stroking his beard and feeling even more heartbroken.
But today, upon arriving at the ancestral hall of his closed-door disciple’s dilapidated mountain, Luopo Mountain, with its high-hung portraits, orderly chairs, bright windows, and spotless cleanliness, the old scholar finally managed a few smiles, especially upon seeing the three lively and adorable young girls. Yet, the old scholar felt even more ashamed. How had his own portrait been hung in the highest position? What had he, this utterly worthless teacher, done for his disciple? Had he diligently imparted knowledge, painstakingly resolving his doubts? Had he, like Cui Chan, taken him along on journeys of ten thousand miles? Had he, like Mao Xiaodong and Ma Zhan, allowed him to seek guidance from his teacher whenever he had a question? Aside from vaguely and haphazardly instilling in that young lad some half-baked sequential learning, causing him to be prematurely burdened and burdened with heavy thoughts, all that remained from back then were drunken ramblings. How had he become someone’s teacher?

Some knowledge, once prematurely delved into, is as difficult as entering a mountain and then trying to move it.

The old gentleman was overcome with guilt.

Back in the village schoolhouse, the old man turned to look outside, as if seeing a sallow-faced, thin child standing on tiptoes outside the window sill. The child’s eyes were wide, his ears perked, listening to the sound of reading, smelling the scent of books, gazing at the teacher and students inside. The lonely child stood outside the schoolhouse, his clean, bright eyes filled with longing.

In that child’s later life, perhaps while carrying a large basket, gathering herbs in the mountains, he would shout out the meaninglessly chanted “At the beginning of man, his nature is good” to embolden himself. On the way down the mountain, he would joyfully recite “Heaven and Earth, black and yellow, the universe vast and wild.” Between ascending and descending, under the scorching sun, drenched in sweat, the child would hide in the shade of a tree to rest. He would play with grass fights, winning or losing against himself, raising a hand high, yelling “I win, I win!” showing a hint of childish innocence.

Hardships abound in the world, and such a life for a child is not uncommon.

But for someone so young to endure it all on their own, that is rare.

The old scholar even regretted saying those words to Chen Ping’an back then. A young lad’s shoulders should bear the weight of swaying willows and fluttering orioles.

Saying that to Pei Qian and the other children was fine, but was saying it to Chen Ping’an just standing and talking without feeling the pain?

But then the old scholar thought again, looking at Luopo Mountain as it was now, perhaps saying those words to the straw-sandal-wearing youth back then was the most fitting thing to do.

Finally, Pei Qian and the others noticed that the old gentleman who had come from afar was sitting on the chair closest to the threshold, quietly sitting there, looking up at the three portraits.

He did not look at his own portrait in the center, but looked at Cui Cheng’s portrait for a long time, nodding slightly, muttering words that no one could clearly hear. In the end, the old gentleman just kept looking at his disciple’s portrait, silent.

The old gentleman spoke to himself, “Some say, ‘How should one repay evil with virtue?'”

The old gentleman answered himself, “The Master said, ‘With what then will you repay virtue? Repay evil with straightforwardness, and virtue with virtue.'”