The next twenty days were not so pleasant for Pei Qian. Cui Dongshan had insisted on dragging her away from the Ning Residence to wander around, and Cao Mutou was always in tow.

The three of them explored every street and alley of the city, caught a distant glimpse of a mirage, and then journeyed south. The big white goose, Cui Dongshan, even liked to take detours, passing by house after house where sword immortals once lived. Finally, they reached the city wall, still traveling on foot. If her Shifu were here, forget walking, they could practically fly! But since Shifu wasn’t around, Pei Qian hinted a few times that he should summon a talisman-powered boat to fly above and observe the land more clearly. However, Cui Dongshan didn’t agree, and Cao Qinglang remained silent, leaving Pei Qian feeling a bit powerless.

Cao Qinglang had originally planned to quietly cultivate at the Ning Residence, like Old Zhong was currently doing, slowly pacing the training grounds for hours each day.

But when Cui Dongshan knocked on his door and invited him out, Cao Qinglang wanted to refuse, feeling he shouldn’t betray the kindness of his teacher who had specifically chosen this place for his cultivation.

However, Cui Dongshan shook his head, making his intentions clear. Cao Qinglang pondered for a moment and then agreed. Cui Dongshan reminded him to bring the walking stick his teacher had gifted him, the one that had accompanied his teacher across countless mountains and rivers, across half of the Northern Ju Continent. Cui Dongshan also had one, a seemingly ordinary green bamboo, yet extraordinary. Pei Qian’s walking stick, on the other hand, was made of the best and most valuable material. Only after the big white goose revealed its secrets did Pei Qian give up on bringing her small bamboo suitcase along.

On the city wall, Pei Qian walked close to the southern edge, encountering many interesting sword immortals. There was a sword immortal in colorful robes taking a stroll. Another carried a sword without a scabbard, its tassel extremely long, tied to his waist, the sword dragging on the ground, its tip and edge scraping against the city wall, the flowing sword energy clearly visible. Pei Qian wanted to look longer but didn’t dare to.

As the three of them walked higher, Cao Qinglang looked at Cui Dongshan. Cui Dongshan smiled and said, “Here on the Great Wall of Sword Qi, height is determined by your sword.”

Only then did Cao Qinglang abandon the idea of jumping off the city wall and landing on the road below.

Cui Dongshan chuckled, telling Pei Qian that it was fine to look a bit longer. The demeanor of a sword immortal, the scenery of the vast world, was rarely seen. The sword immortal wouldn’t mind her glances.

Only then did Pei Qian dare to look a few more times.

The sword immortal in colorful robes simply lowered his head in contemplation, indeed not caring about the observation of a young girl, nor about the three of them walking at a higher level.

Cui Dongshan naturally knew the background of this person: Wu Chengpei, a Jade Purity Realm sword cultivator at a bottleneck, whose destined flying sword was named “Sweet Dew.” His swordsmanship was best suited for the final battle, for a simple reason: there would be plenty of blood on the ground.

Wu Chengpei was a solitary character, seemingly young but actually very old. His Daoist partner had her head crushed by a great demon who devoured her soul.

The great demon was later severely injured in battle and hid in the depths of the desolate lands, refusing to appear on the battlefield again. Wu Chengpei had struggled with the choice between living a meaningless life alone or dying without purpose. Later, the great demon was killed, its head presented to Wu Chengpei with a smile: “Just passing by, treat me to a drink.”

The three also encountered a sword immortal who seemed to be in the midst of a sword fight, sitting cross-legged and drinking wine, one hand forming a sword seal. The old man faced north with his back to the south. Between the north and south city walls, there was something like lightning or sword light, as thick as the well opening of the Iron Lock Well in Dragon Spring County. The sword light was dazzling, sparks flying, with lightning striking the city wall’s path, like hundreds of spirit snakes slithering and disappearing into the grass.

Pei Qian was afraid to proceed. The old man laughed, “Do you know the rules here? With wine, you can pass. Otherwise, you must defeat me with your swordsmanship, or fly over the city wall and take a detour.”

Cui Dongshan smiled slightly, “My teacher is the Second Shopkeeper.”

“If the upper beam is so crooked, it’s strange that the lower beam isn’t too bad.”