Fan Dache was still unable to break through the Dragon Gate Realm bottleneck and become a Golden Core cultivator.

No matter how much wine Fan Dache drank, he was always the one footing the bill, yet he still couldn’t cultivate the thick skin of the Second Shopkeeper. He felt guilty, as if he had let down the Ning Clan’s training grounds and the training puppets at Fatty Yan’s house. Therefore, whenever there was drinking, Fan Dache was always the host. This wasn’t even the worst of it; even when Fan Dache wasn’t at the table, as long as the money was there, the Stacked Azure Wine Shop would put the drinks on Fan Dache’s tab, with the talisman maker Dong being the most frequent drinker. At first, Fan Dache was bewildered, wondering how the shop could offer credit. Only after inquiring did he learn that Chen Sanqiu had taken it upon himself to leave a ‘Minor Heat’ coin at the wine shop in his name. Fan Dache asked how much was left of this ‘Minor Heat’ coin. It would have been better if he hadn’t asked. The question filled him with sorrow, and without a second thought, he bought a few jugs of Green God Mountain wine and drank himself into a stupor.

The two lads of the same age who had become long-term workers at the wine shop, Zhang Jiazhen from Spirit Rhinoceros Lane and Jiang Qu from Straw Hat Lane, had now become inseparable friends, sharing their dreams in secret. They weren’t grand aspirations.

The storyteller on the wooden bench appeared less and less frequently, and his tales of mountains and rivers grew fewer and farther between.

The little boy with the pottery jar and hidden savings, whose father helped make clear broth noodles at the wine shop, felt that things couldn’t continue like this. The stories might not be great, but they were still stories after all. If necessary, he would spend his own money to listen to the storyteller’s tales. Would a single copper coin be enough? Now that his father was earning more money, he would occasionally toss him three or five coins. In another year at most, Feng Kangle’s pottery jar would soon be overflowing. So, emboldened by his wealth, Feng Kangle mustered his courage and secretly ran off alone to Ning Mansion Street, which he had never visited before. However, he hesitated to knock on the door, which was too grand, and he was too small. Feng Kangle felt that even if he knocked hard, the people inside wouldn’t hear him.

When the storyteller sat on the bench, this boy, who had been the first to greet the Second Shopkeeper, wasn’t afraid at all. But now that the storyteller was hidden within the high walls of the Ning Mansion, the boy grew fearful. So, he squatted by the wall, basking in the sun for a long time. Before nightfall, he left the bluestone street, which was so polished it could be used as a mirror. The boy secretly twisted his ankle, causing his sole to creak. He would play a little after walking a short distance, but not too much, for fear of disturbing someone and getting beaten. Once he reached the dirt road of his own alley, this joy was gone. If his shoes got dirty, his father wouldn’t care, but his mother would! A blooming bottom was no fun. Many times, as his mother beat him, she would start crying herself, and his father would squat at the doorway, silently saying nothing. The boy felt most wronged at those times, hurting all over, yet what was going on with his parents? How could these grown-ups be even more unreasonable than a child?

Feng Kangle returned to his own alley, where quite a few children were waiting eagerly, hoping to hear more of those free stories from distant lands tomorrow.

Feng Kangle had no choice. He couldn’t say that he was too timid and had only seen the gate but not the storyteller. So, he said a few words of apology to the storyteller in his heart and then bitterly lamented that the Second Shopkeeper was too stingy, complaining that there wasn’t enough money in his pottery jar and that he was no longer willing to tell stories. That fellow was obsessed with money and had no conscience. The children joined Feng Kangle in cursing him, but in the end, the children felt more regret than anger.

After all, the last story hadn’t been finished yet. It had just reached the part where the mountain god forcibly took a bride, and the scholar beat the drum to appeal to the City God. At least finish the story! Did the scholar manage to rescue his beloved, pitiful maiden? Wasn’t the Second Shopkeeper afraid that the scholar would keep drumming and break the drum at the City God’s gate?

The little girl who wasn’t very pretty but always brought enough melon seeds was the most disappointed. Because the storyteller had freeloaded on her melon seeds so often, now she played house and pretended to be a bride in a sedan chair. Feng Kangle and the others would make a frame with their hands, and she would sit on top, swaying back and forth. But after the storyteller hadn’t appeared with his bench and bamboo branch for a long time, she was once again the girl that Feng Kangle and the others liked, and she had to be a bridesmaid again.

Moreover, the storyteller had secretly promised her that next time it snowed, he would have a snowball fight with her. How could he break his promise? She had put in so much effort to get her parents to buy more melon seeds. She didn’t want to eat them herself; was she saving them for the New Year? But in their hometown, it seemed that the New Year was no different from any other day. It wasn’t like the New Year in the storyteller’s hometown, which was so lively that children could wear new clothes, receive red envelopes from their parents and elders, put up door gods and Spring Festival couplets, and have a feast that filled the table.

However, every time he finished a story or even just a small part of one, the Second Shopkeeper, who liked to tell scary stories about mountains, rivers, gods, and monsters but wasn’t scary himself, would also say some words that were destined to be ignored at the time, words outside the story. For example, he would talk about how good Sword Qi Great Wall was, where you could drink wine alongside a bunch of sword immortals. Turn your head, and there they were, munching on clear broth noodles and pickled vegetables. It was a rare sight; you couldn’t see these things anywhere else in the vast world, no matter how much money you spent. Then he would say that of all the places you passed through, whether they were better or worse than your hometown, your hometown would always be the only one, the place you thought of the most. Unfortunately, as soon as the story was over, everyone scattered, and no one wanted to listen to these things.

These were the most trivial and minute matters of the mortal world. The alley where the children lived was too small to hold too much. It experienced only small storms, and once the rain fell and the wind blew, they were all gone. The children themselves couldn’t remember them, let alone anyone else.

After all, these weren’t the stories of the storyteller on the bench. Even the mountain sprites and water monsters who carried the mountain god’s sedan chair had to be given names and descriptions of their clothing to give them a chance to show their faces. Even the origin and crispness of winter-preserved vegetables had to be explained in great detail, making the children’s mouths water. After all, Sword Qi Great Wall didn’t celebrate the New Year, but everyone still had to endure the frozen earth, frozen ground, and frozen limbs of winter.

Sword Qi Great Wall, bordering the Savage Desolation, had layers upon layers of cloud seas beneath its walls, like steps built by a drunken artisan. Here, the words and actions of the sword immortals were almost all major events. Of course, things like the female sword immortal Zhou Cheng swinging on the swing year after year, Mi Yu sleeping soundly on a cloud bed, day and night indistinguishable, and the two sworn enemies Zhao Ge and Cheng Quan spitting on each other after drinking wine, certainly didn’t count as major events.
The various sword cultivators from major sects, including the Taiwei Sword Sect, were preparing to withdraw from the Sword Qi Great Wall in batches. The venerable Chen, Dong, and Qi families of the Great Wall, along with the old sword immortals, had no objections. After all, fighting alongside the native sword cultivators in one great battle was sufficient. Only the proximity of the last two battles had delayed the homecoming of these outsiders.

Someone once joked that the goodwill accumulated with the sword immortals of the Sword Qi Great Wall was the most worthless in the world. Don’t take it seriously, anyone who does is a fool. Yet, the scoundrel who uttered such nonsense was ironically the one who had slain the largest, though perhaps not the most, number of demons. If that great demon wasn’t significant enough, how could he have etched the latest enormous character onto the city wall?

Nevertheless, the majority of foreign sword cultivators from the Northern Ju Continent didn’t fully return to their homes in the Vast Expanse. For example, Han Huaizi, the sect master of the Taiwei Sword Sect, remained at the Sword Qi Great Wall. The other sword immortals from the Northern Ju Continent also stayed, with the young departing and the elders with higher cultivation levels remaining. Of course, there were also those who arrived alone, like Li Cai of Floating Duckweed Sword Lake and Yuan Qingshu of the Southern娑婆 Continent. Besides sword immortals, many terrestrial immortal sword cultivators from various schools across the Nine Continents also chose to stay.

Fortunately, the Diezhang Wine Shop expanded, swallowing the two neighboring shops and adding two more walls specifically for hanging nameplates.

Consequently, sword cultivators, primarily those from the Northern Ju Continent, especially disciples of the Taiwei Sword Sect, wrote their names and words at the wine shop. When these individuals visited the shop for drinks, they often invited the native sword cultivators who had fought alongside them in the two great battles. This trend sparked a new custom: pairs of nameplates, each bearing the name of an outsider sword cultivator and a native sword cultivator who had formed a bond of life and death. Some contained polite farewells, others crude insults, and still others were drunken ramblings. Some even directly copied verses from the Anthology of a Hundred Sword Immortals or fans, making for a diverse collection.

One nameplate in particular, belonging to a young Golden Core sword cultivator from the Floating Duckweed Continent who was a direct disciple of the sect leader, bore the inscription, “After looking at all these nameplates, I dare to say, so what if Vast Expanse sword cultivators’ swordplay isn’t as good as the Sword Qi Great Wall’s? Our calligraphy is far superior!”

The reverse side featured the name and words of a Nascent Soul sword cultivator from the Sword Qi Great Wall. While the name was written neatly enough, the rest of the inscription betrayed his lack of skill, etched in a crooked and clumsy manner: “The Vast Expanse has as many people who can’t write as we have bartenders who can’t sell wine. Send us a dozen more like you, we wouldn’t mind!”

While Zuo You was discussing swordplay insights with Wei Jin, the eldest sword immortal appeared, prompting Wei Jin to bid farewell.

However, Chen Qingdu waved his hand. “Stay. In my eyes, your sword skills are about the same.”

Wei Jin couldn’t help but smile wryly.

*Oldest Sword Immortal, if you want to reignite Senior Zuo You’s spirit, don’t drag me into it.*

Chen Qingdu cut straight to the point, “Actually, I have a request. Although ‘request’ isn’t quite the right word. It’s both an order from your teacher and my own expectation. Whether you heed it or not is up to you. Once you’ve decided, then follow my sword.”

Wei Jin was helpless.

*This is non-negotiable. At least for me. It’s still too early to say what Senior Zuo You will decide.*

Zuo You asked, “Why didn’t my teacher tell me himself?”

Chen Qingdu smiled, “Your teacher said you wouldn’t listen to what he had to say. What’s the point of saying it? If I heard it, the most reasonable old scholar in the Vast Expanse would be accused of failing to discipline his disciple.”

Zuo You said, “It’s true that I, this student, have caused my teacher concern.”

*As long as you say good things about his teacher, it will work on Zuo You. The only thing that works, and the thing that works best.*

Chen Qingdu turned to Wei Jin, “Wei Jin, I know you might not be willing to listen to me now, so you can fight in one more great battle before listening to me and leaving the Sword Qi Great Wall. When the time comes, there will be three places for you to choose from: Southern娑婆 Continent, Floating Duckweed Continent, or Golden Armor Continent. Just treat it as a scenic journey. Wei Jin of Wind and Snow Temple in Treasure Bottle Continent shouldn’t just be a heartbroken fool. Besides, it doesn’t matter where you’re heartbroken. There’s no need to stay at the Sword Qi Great Wall. It’s too far away, and the girl you like can’t even see you.”

Chen Qingdu smiled, “The reason I’m being so blunt with you is that your sword skills are lower than Zuo You’s. So, when you leave the Sword Qi Great Wall in the future, remember to practice your sword diligently. When your sword skills improve, at least catch up to Zuo You, and I’ll have to be more considerate next time.”

Wei Jin forced a smile, “Oldest Sword Immortal, is that the only way?”

Chen Qingdu raised his chin. “Why are you asking me? Ask your sword.”

Wei Jin felt even more helpless.

This time, when Wei Jin left, the oldest sword immortal didn’t try to stop him.

He only left the two with higher sword skills.

Chen Qingdu said, “Your little junior brother didn’t agree to light the life-extending lamp, but he made a small deal with me. In the future, on the battlefield, I’ll save him once, or save someone he wants to save.”

Chen Qingdu smiled, “Someone so afraid of death suddenly isn’t afraid anymore. And the usually taciturn Zuo You actually said so much. What exactly are the disciples of your Literary Sage lineage thinking?”

Zuo You said, “If you want to know, it’s actually simple.”

*Naturally, you have to become a disciple of our Literary Sage lineage first.*

Chen Qingdu chuckled, “I advise you not to say that out loud. Your junior nephews are still at the Sword Qi Great Wall. They think their grand senior uncle is invincible, but he ended up getting a bloody nose. It’s disgraceful.”

It wasn’t that Zuo You didn’t mind the oldest sword immortal’s words, but he was more concerned about a greater matter at hand. He asked, “If he comes, what will we do?”

Chen Qingdu put one hand behind his back and stroked the hair on the back of his head. “The doors are wide open, and we’ll welcome him for ten thousand years. Sword immortals only worry that the demons aren’t big enough. Don’t you even understand that?”

Zuo You nodded. “That makes sense.”

Chen Qingdu teased, “Oh? Finally, you want to draw your sword for your own sake?”

Zuo You said, “The Literary Sage lineage only speaks the truth and doesn’t boast. As the eldest senior brother and grand senior uncle, I’ll let my fellow disciples know that the highest sword cultivator in the Vast Expanse isn’t overrated. That assessment is actually too low.”

Chen Qingdu smiled, “You want it to be even higher? How much higher? By standing on your tiptoes and craning your neck to reach my shoulder?”

Zuo You said, “Chen Qingdu, isolate the heavens and earth. Let’s have a fight.”

Chen Qingdu put his hands behind his back and walked away.

Zuo You closed his eyes again to rest and nurture his sword intent.

The next great battle will be the most suitable time to unleash his sword to its fullest.

Far away.
The woman, Zhou Cheng, was still on the swing, humming an obscure local folk song.

Many, many years ago, when she was still a young maiden, a young man from a foreign land had taught it to her. Well, not really taught, he just liked to sit not far from the swing, humming the tune to himself. She hadn’t thought it sounded good back then, and certainly didn’t want to learn it. She barely had enough time for sword practice, what was the point of learning such frivolous things?

Later, Zhou Cheng first heard about the existence of wandering cultivators from remote mountains and lakes. He had said that the reason he came here was to see the homeland he had always envisioned, not out of any deep emotion, just a desire to see it.

Great Sword Immortal Lu Zhi walked to the swing, reached out and grasped a rope, gently swaying it.

Zhou Cheng didn’t turn her head, and softly asked, “Sister Lu, some people are willing to risk their lives to see their envisioned homeland, why don’t you go see yours? You won’t die, and you’ve accumulated so many war merits. The Grand Sword Immortal promised you long ago that once your merits were enough, you wouldn’t be stopped.”

Lu Zhi was a slender woman, somewhat thin, with slightly sunken cheeks, but her skin was fair and her forehead was bright, exceptionally radiant, as if accumulating moonlight year after year.

Her appearance wasn’t particularly beautiful, but her imposing aura was overwhelming. Standing quietly beside the swing, she was like a unsheathed sword.

Lu Zhi shook her head and said, “The reason for that agreement was just to give myself something to think about besides sword practice. Being able to do it doesn’t necessarily mean I really want to.”

Zhou Cheng fell silent.

Lu Zhi gently swayed the swing, “After I can go to the Upside-Down Mountain openly, that thought will be considered settled. My current thought is to go south, to two very distant places, to water my horse in the Yelu River, and lean on my sword against the Tuoyue Mountain.”

Zhou Cheng turned her head and laughed, “That guy who can’t say anything nice? Do you fancy him?”

Lu Zhi shook her head, “Just because a woman isn’t necessarily mean she must be fond of men. I don’t like choosing who to like, I only like myself when I like no one.”

Zhou Cheng laughed, “Sister Lu, you speak just like the people from the Vast World over there.”

“Zhou Cheng, what will you do when the swing is gone one day?”

“When people are dead, they don’t care about anything anymore.”

“Is it worth it to like someone that much?”

“It’s not like I really like him that much. Anyway, everything is gone, I’m the only one left from my sect, what else can I think about? Sister Lu has great talent, she can have that thought and act on it, I can’t, thinking is useless, so I don’t think about it.”

Lu Zhi gazed southward, her expression indifferent, “There’s more than one sword immortal waiting to die, isn’t that ridiculous?”

Zhou Cheng didn’t speak, nor did she laugh.

The sword immortal Li Cai of Northern Ju Cave Continent was a restless soul. Today, she would challenge Han Huaizi of the Taiwei Sword Sect, tomorrow she would find other sword immortals to challenge. If she couldn’t challenge sword immortals, she would bully Nascent Soul sword cultivators, shouting that if they couldn’t even beat a woman, and didn’t even dare to fight, were they even men? The Nascent Soul sword cultivators were often infuriated. After losing, they would call upon their friends. In the Great Wall of Sword Qi, who didn’t have a sword immortal friend? If Li Cai won after the sword immortal came to their aid, it was fine, she would just challenge someone else. If she lost, she would go back to the Nascent Soul sword cultivator, again and again. After three or four times, the Nascent Soul sword cultivator would wear a distressed look, his sword immortal friends no longer wanting to see him. So he secretly helped Li Cai introduce another Nascent Soul cultivator, saying that that guy knew even more sword immortal friends.

Li Cai thus became deeply fond of the Great Wall of Sword Qi.

Endless fights, and win or lose, there were no worries. It was much better than the Northern Ju Cave Continent, where she was bound by rules and had to consider relationships and favors.

Li Cai almost wanted to just marry a random man and stay here forever.

But as soon as she had this thought, she felt a little sorry for Jiang Shangzhen. But then she thought, a man like Jiang Shangzhen would never be devoted to one woman for life, why would she be fond of him? Wouldn’t that just be demeaning herself? But when the female sword immortal was sitting on the city wall, or recuperating in the Ten Thousand Ravine Residence, she thought over and over again, and couldn’t help but be fond of him. This made Li Cai so worried that she wanted to drink herself to death.

The Ten Thousand Ravine Residence where Li Cai was temporarily staying was not far from the Taiwei Sword Sect’s Armory, which had already become a private residence, and even closer to the Tingyun Pavilion, whose main structure was entirely carved from jasper.

Li Cai then sent a letter to Jiang Shangzhen, asking him to pay to buy it. Because she was worried that he wouldn’t want to pay, she doubled the price in the letter.

There was a gaunt old man, with a wine-soaked nose, carrying a wine pot, rarely leaving his residence, staggering along the city wall, looking at the scenery. He didn’t come here often, the wind was too strong.

Passing by the Jade Purity Realm sword cultivator with the extremely long sword tassel dragging on the ground, the city wall was very wide, so the two were actually far apart. But Wu Chengpei, who had been absent-minded, suddenly turned his head and stared at the old man, his eyes red, and cursed, “Get the hell out of here, you old beast!”

The old man’s nickname in the Great Wall of Sword Qi was Old Deafy. The nickname wasn’t impressive at all, but he was a true member of the top ten experts in the Great Wall of Sword Qi, not to mention that the old man’s ranking was even ahead of Nalan Shaowei and Lu Zhi.

To put it bluntly, in the Great Wall of Sword Qi, where everyone could have a bad temper, just based on Wu Chengpei’s extremely offensive words, the old man could draw his sword, and anyone who tried to stop him would suffer along with him.

But Old Deafy really seemed like a deaf person. Not only did he not say anything, but he actually quickened his pace, disappearing like smoke in an instant.

Only then did Wu Chengpei continue walking with his head lowered.

Old Deafy walked and stopped. Some people greeted him, some ignored him, but the old man didn’t say anything.

It was only when he reached the monk that he stood still and said in a hoarse voice, “Tell me more about Buddhism, anyway, I can’t hear.”

The monk, already sitting at the very end of one side of the city wall, then spoke some Buddhist teachings.

Outside the monk’s prayer mat was a vast expanse of white mist. Occasionally, a burst of golden light would suddenly appear and then dissipate. That was a mystical sight after the River of Time was blocked by an invisible object, causing a splash.

The monk reached out as if to scoop water, but was still a hair’s breadth too slow compared to the burst of golden light. He withdrew his hand, considering it a fruitless attempt.
The old deaf man then went to the Confucian Sage, once a Buddhist disciple, at the other end of the city wall. The old man spoke similar words, and the Confucian Sage replied in kind. The old deaf man nodded, and then went to the old Taoist in the clouds high above, the grand-disciple of the Taoist Ancestor. After the old Taoist spoke some words, the old deaf man finally left the city wall and went to the prison he had been responsible for guarding for thousands of years. This prison had no name, and strangely, the higher the realm of the great demons, the closer they were imprisoned to the ground. As the old deaf man passed by each cell, he couldn’t hear the curses or jeers anyway. As for the great demons’ fury, shaking the entire prison, the old man ignored it even more. The hunched old man didn’t even raise his head, so he couldn’t see those deeply etched, hateful gazes. Finally, he went to the bottom layer to see the妖物 (yao wu – demon spirits/monsters) of lower realms, teaching them swordsmanship. Whether they learned or not didn’t matter, because they were all going to die anyway. Was it more fortunate to die sooner or later? Hard to say.

The Grand Sword Immortal had previously instructed him to do one thing: on the day he had to fight on the city wall, besides the three Golden Core lives he earned through merit, he could, as agreed, stay alive. But he must remember to slaughter all the妖族 (yao zu – demon race/monster race) in the prison. If he didn’t heed these words, he would truly be deaf. How could one *not* be deaf after the death of a Ascendant Realm great demon?

The old deaf man didn’t feel any resentment. Over the millennia, he had carefully selected three妖物 (yao wu). The only problem was that no matter how good their aptitude, no matter how much they suppressed their realms, they would eventually have to break through after a long time. The reason was simple: how could they live for hundreds or thousands of years without sufficient power? They would naturally die. So every time one died in history, the old deaf man would lament several times, waiting and waiting. And so he waited. Of the three unnamed disciples still alive, countless senior brothers had already learned the sword and quietly passed away.

Among the three, one was only at the Cave Mansion Realm, one at the Dragon Gate Realm, and one was at the brink of losing his mind due to the Golden Core bottleneck.

The old deaf man was very frank about the matter of taking disciples. “If you become my disciple and reach the Nascent Soul Realm, you will die.” Therefore, they had to weigh the matter of breaking through themselves.

Besides the mirage to the far north of Sword Qi Great Wall and the city outside, and the Jianjia Armoury, Wanhuo Residence, and Tingyun Pavilion – the residences left behind by Sword Immortals – there were also some barely passable places of strategic importance. But aside from the prison that the old deaf man guarded, there were actually three other places that could be called forbidden grounds: the sword forge managed by the Dong family, the robe workshop overseen by the Qi family, and the pill refinery in the hands of the Chen family.

The swords forged in the sword forge were never very good, just ordinary swords that didn’t even count as magical treasures. Sword Immortals could take them or not. Any sword cultivator who ascended the city wall would be given one, and they could accept it or not. Aristocratic sons and scions of great clans would rely on family inheritance or spend a fortune to buy a good sword from the Vast Lands, and that was their ability.

In fact, many Sword Immortals just happened to like wearing swords forged in the sword forge, using them to slay countless demons.

The robe workshop wove robes, but their quality wasn’t high either.

It all seemed like child’s play.

But these two places, without a doubt, were the most indispensable existences on Sword Qi Great Wall.

The Sword Immortals of Sword Qi Great Wall weren’t born out of thin air. They were sword cultivators who ascended one realm at a time, with only differences in speed, but their realm was always there.

The function of the pill refinery was even simpler: to make the most of the spoils of war, the corpses of the妖族 (yao zu) who died on the city wall and on the southern battlefield, skinning and dismembering them. Not only that, the pill refinery was the most mixed and chaotic place of all kinds of people. There were many alchemists and talisman makers. Some people came here voluntarily, signing contracts for a hundred or several hundred years, earning enough money to leave. Some were simply outsiders who had been forcibly brought here, or reclusive experts and vagrant dogs from the Vast Lands who were hiding from disasters.

Sword Qi Great Wall relied on this pill refinery to conduct numerous transactions, large and small, with the many intercontinental ferries that stayed at the Upside-Down Mountain port in the Vast Lands.

And the pill refinery was closely related to the prison guarded by the old deaf man. After all, the blood, bones, and fragments of妖丹 (yao dan – demon cores/monster cores) cut from many great demons were treasures from the mountains.

These three forbidden grounds, with their strict rules and even more alarming security, were easy for anyone to enter, but difficult for anyone to leave, even Sword Immortals were no exception.

Among the huge characters carved on the southern city wall, there was a type of sword cultivator, regardless of age or cultivation level, who stayed the furthest away from the city’s affairs. They occasionally went to the city wall and to the north, always returning silently.

They were responsible for going to the Barbarian World to “pick up money.”

They were similar to the border scouts of secular dynasties in the Vast Lands.

Therefore, even if their realm was low, they were still Dragon Gate Realm sword cultivators. Each time they went to the south, they were led by a Sword Immortal.

In their early years, Chen Sanqiu, a first-class aristocratic son, and Xiao Ququ, a good friend who had struggled to rise from the impoverished marketplace, two young sword cultivators with completely different backgrounds, both had the greatest desire to go south to pick up money.

And the sword cultivator who picked up the most money and went the furthest to pick up money liked to call himself a swordsman. He liked to say that his wandering wasn’t to attract the attention of women, but that he purely liked the jianghu (martial world/realm of wanderers).

The Barbarian World in the south was a large jianghu, and he could encounter many interesting things.

But every time he finished saying these heroic words that made the juniors’ hearts sway, that person would go to the city to drink that day, going wherever there were more women’s gazes.

Every time he came back drunk and smelling of alcohol, he would smile and say to some little bastards who didn’t like him, “You, you, you almost called me Dad, or even Ancestor! Luckily, I managed to restrain myself, with a body of righteous energy. Beauty can’t get close to me!”

If a child retorted, he, who never suffered a loss, would say, “So-and-so in your family, just talking about her face, doesn’t even count as beauty. But it doesn’t matter. In my eyes, a woman who secretly likes me has her beauty doubled. If she’s not a beauty, she’s still a beauty. What’s more, so-and-so’s slender waist like willow branches, those long legs like two bamboo poles leaning against each other, those magnificent and undulating peaks, as long as you have the heart to discover them, what’s wrong with myriads of landscapes? You don’t understand? Come, come, I’ll help you open your celestial eye. This is a unique divine power of the Vast Lands, not easily passed on…”
Yet after each jest, as squads departed south in pursuit of fortune, invariably, a handful of listeners would be lost, or worse, annihilated entirely. Those faces would never grace gatherings again. What they had once failed to grasp, or feigned ignorance of, was now eternally beyond their comprehension.

At such times, that man would fall silent, drinking alone.

Once, when the sword cultivators returned piecemeal, he squatted in a lonely spot, but his awaited company never arrived. Instead, a great demon stalked into view, brandishing a long spear like a string of candied haws.

Halting far from the Sword Qi Great Wall, it called out a name, and with a sneer, hurled the spear towards a specific section of the southern ramparts.

The man caught the spear, gently passed it to someone behind him, and then ventured ten thousand leagues, alone with his sword, into the heart of the barbaric lands. He drew his blade at Mount Tuoyue, he unsheathed at the Yieluo River, wherever great demons dwelled, his sword would sing.

The Bitter Summer Sword Immortal’s perpetually sour face had recently acquired a hint of a smile.

Lin Junbi had captured two strands of pure sword intent left behind by ancient sword immortals, of the highest caliber. Possessing a blend of destiny, opportunity, and skill, what was meant for him would inevitably be his. Yet, to obtain not one, but two strands in such a short time still surpassed the Bitter Summer Sword Immortal’s expectations.

The Sword Qi Great Wall’s enigmatic blessings were not to be forcibly seized merely through high cultivation or sword immortal status. A misstep could unleash a violent backlash of numerous sword intents. History held examples of greedy, ignorant outsider sword immortals who had fallen prey to the encirclement of sword intents. The danger was akin to a foolhardy cultivator of the Cave Mansion Realm brazenly opening their residence on the city walls.

Yan Lu and Jin Zhenmeng had also achieved gains. Yan Lu’s success was largely attributed to luck, the lingering Yin-infused sword intent resonating with his fate and affinity with the Dao.

Jin Zhenmeng, seemingly relying more on his Golden Core sword cultivator realm, had managed to retain a rebellious sword intent. The Bitter Summer Sword Immortal, setting aside personal sentiments and focusing solely on sword-related matters, possessed excellent discernment. As the grand-disciple of Zhou Shenzhi, he must have some genuine ability, or he would have long been berated into shattering his sword heart. In the Bitter Summer Sword Immortal’s eyes, Jin Zhenmeng, this taciturn junior, harbored profound ambition and lofty aspirations. The intensely murderous and pure sword intent choosing the mild-mannered Jin Zhenmeng was no accident. In fact, quite the opposite, Jin Zhenmeng’s sincerity had earned the sword intent’s favor. The fierce conflict within Jin Zhenmeng’s Qi Sea, where the external sword intent triggered a “visit” from the local sword qi, may have appeared perilous, but was merely a crude trial. It would effectively cleanse Jin Zhenmeng’s myriad soul flaws. If he failed this test, Jin Zhenmeng would have no choice but to accept his fate, even if it meant a drop in his cultivation realm.

Aside from the Bitter Summer Sword Immortal, these Sons of Heaven from the Shao Yuan Dynasty were not yet sword immortals.

Even if many among them never reached the Upper Five Realms of sword immortals, compared to the trivial squabbles of the northern city, even without acquiring fortunes like Lin Junbi and the others, their cultivation journeys had still benefited from accumulating subtle advantages. To return to the Shao Yuan Dynasty of the Central Earth Divine Continent was no small matter. Walking among mortals, they could easily determine life and death, decide the honor and disgrace of entire families.

With Lin Junbi gaining such a great boon, the other sword cultivators were not overly resentful. But with Yan Lu succeeding, they felt a tinge of discomfort. Now that even Jin Zhenmeng, a fellow seemingly strong in realm but lacking comprehension, had gained fortune, Jiang Guancheng and others like him found it hard to bear.

Zhu Mei remained unconcerned.

Whenever she had free time, she would seek out Yu Juanfu, whom she affectionately nicknamed “Zai Xi, Zai Xi.” It was always casual chatter, with Yu Juanfu barely uttering a word, the girl doing all the talking.

Rarely, Yu Juanfu would speak more, arguing with Zhu Mei about whether it was a master’s tablet or a master’s scroll, a master’s blade or a master’s brush. Zhu Mei would deliberately be unreasonable, arguing for a long time, before finally surrendering with a cheerful smile. It turned out she was simply trying to get Yu Juanfu to speak more, victory lying in making him talk.

The Bitter Summer Sword Immortal was in a good mood, and upon returning to the Sun residence, he unexpectedly sought out Sun Juyuan for a drink. However, he discovered that the Sun Sword Immortal had lost his immortal wine cup, and was simply drinking from the wine flask.

Sun Juyuan seemed unwilling to speak, so the Bitter Summer Sword Immortal spoke a few words from his heart.

“I am but a sword cultivator, having only known sword practice since I ascended the mountain. Therefore, I do not concern myself with many things, either unwilling or unable to manage them.”

Sun Juyuan glanced at the sincere outsider sword immortal, and nodded. “I have no opinion of you, and if I did, it would be a favorable one.”

Sun Juyuan sat in the corridor, one leg bent at the knee, tapping his knee with his hand. “A cultivator, living in seclusion, distancing oneself from the world, maintaining purity, what more could one ask for? It is already very good.”

The Bitter Summer Sword Immortal sighed, “But any sect that gains prominence becomes bustling and noisy. It is no longer as simple as solitary cultivation. This is the fundamental reason why I am unwilling to establish a sect. I only know how to practice the sword, not how to impart the Dao. I fear teaching disciples whose swordsmanship becomes increasingly profound while their hearts sink deeper and deeper. I am already poor at reasoning, wouldn’t it be even worse then? My grand-uncle is excellent. His swordsmanship is high enough that all his disciples and grand-disciples, regardless of their personalities, must diligently ponder his thoughts, without him needing to impart any principles.”

Sun Juyuan shook his head, leaning against the wall, gently shaking his wine flask. “Bitter Summer, ah Bitter Summer, not even understanding your grand-uncle’s true strength. I advise you never to establish a sect in your life. You simply lack the ability.”

The Bitter Summer Sword Immortal’s good mood was extinguished by Sun Juyuan’s words, and his face turned even more sour.

Sun Juyuan gazed into the distance, and softly said, “If the cultivators of the vast world could all be like you, that would be good. Few words, but much done.”

The Bitter Summer Sword Immortal reached out his hand. “Give me a flask of wine, I’ll have a drink too.”

Sun Juyuan flicked his wrist, tossing over a flask of wine.

The Bitter Summer Sword Immortal’s expression became even more bitter.

Because it was a flask of Bamboo Sea Cave Heaven wine.

The Sword Qi Great Wall was the place most conducive to jesting.

Because even one’s life could be used as a joke, what else was there to fear?
But the Sword Qi Great Wall is, after all, the Sword Qi Great Wall. There are no nonsensical rules on paper, but there are also some bizarre, unwritten rules that would never be rules anywhere else.

If a Fifth Realm sword cultivator doesn’t like a certain Sword Immortal, they’ll curse them out, whether they’re drinking or not. As long as the Sword Immortal ignores them, everyone else will too.

But if the Sword Immortal acknowledges them, then they have to take it.

Outsiders who come to the Sword Qi Great Wall to practice swordsmanship or admire the scenery, no matter whose disciples they are, no matter how good a destiny they have in the Vast Expanse, the sword cultivators here won’t look up to you, nor will they look down on you. Everything is decided by the sword. If you can gain face here, that’s your skill. If you lose face here and feel unhappy, you can say whatever you want back in your Vast Expanse. Just don’t come to the Sword Qi Great Wall again for the rest of your life. It’s best if your relatives and friends don’t get near Upside-Down Mountain either.

Historically, many Sword Immortals and sword cultivators who died alone before their last battle, if they didn’t leave any last words, all their belongings would become unclaimed.

If there are last words, someone will take everything. No matter how much immortal money it is, or even the Sword Immortal’s sword, even if a Lower Five Realm sword cultivator gets it, no one will fight for it. No one would dare to do it openly, and if anyone tries to do it secretly, don’t think the Hidden Official lineage is stupid. Many families that almost moved to Great Elephant Street and Jade Tablet Street were greatly weakened because of this. The rule is simple: if the discipline is lax, besides the one who reaches out, they die. The highest realm member of the family will be beaten half to death by Sword Immortal Luo Shan or Bamboo Hut. If they can’t do it, the Hidden Official is happy to help. They might be left with half a life, because they still need to kill demons. In the next great battle, that person must be the last to retreat from the battlefield. If they survive by their own skills, it’s all forgiven. But they can forget about the share of profits that the Sword, Clothing, and Elixir Workshops would have sent to their mansion after the war.

So, in a place like this, where even many Sword Immortals don’t have a grave to lie in after they die, how could there be any New Year’s spirit with spring couplets and door gods? There won’t be.

For hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of years, all the sword cultivators have become accustomed to the thatched hut on the city wall, and the old Sword Immortal who almost never comes down from the city wall.

It’s as if if the old Sword Immortal doesn’t look at the old almanac, the almanac disappears, or rather, it never existed.

Wang Zai, a gentleman of the Rite Sage lineage, came to the wine shop today. This is the first time Wang Zai has come here to buy wine.

But the noisy sword cultivator drinkers don’t have a good look on their faces towards this Confucian gentleman.

First, it’s because of his identity as a scholar with fame and titles in the Vast Expanse. Second, it’s because they heard that Wang Zai is just stirring up trouble, not letting go of the Second Shopkeeper’s one-punch kill, insisting on making a fuss about trivial moral matters, even more zealous than the Hidden Official lineage’s inspector sword cultivators. They wonder why the Asian Sage and Literary Sage are fighting to the death, but why is the Rite Sage lineage joining in the fun, kicking someone when they’re down?

Wang Zai remains calm, pays for the wine, and leaves with it. He doesn’t eat a bowl of plain noodles or a plate of pickles, nor does he imitate the sword cultivators by squatting on the roadside to drink. Wang Zai smiles inwardly, feeling that the Second Shopkeeper should really treat him to this pot of wine.

Wang Zai doesn’t return the way he came, but walks towards a deserted alley corner with the wine.

Wang Zai stops where there should be a small wooden stool and a young man in green robes, and says softly, “A gentleman’s words should be fair and correct, and especially detailed.”

As he is about to leave the Sword Qi Great Wall, Wang Zai remembers something and returns to the wine shop. He finds a blank, unwritten “nothing to do” plaque, writes his origin and name on it, and then writes a sentence on the back of the plaque: “Be lenient to others, be strict with yourself, persuade with reason, restrain yourself with morality, and the world will be peaceful, truly nothing to do.”

After Wang Zai finishes writing, he hangs the plaque on the wall and looks at the text on the other nearby plaques, finding it both funny and annoying. There’s a plaque that someone in the wine shop will probably gild, with the “heartfelt words” of a Golden Armor Continent Sword Immortal: “Never screws people over, Second Shopkeeper, Peerless wine, Chen Ping’an.”

It’s obvious that they don’t plan to leave the Sword Qi Great Wall for the time being.

There’s also a plaque that the Second Shopkeeper will definitely regard as “conscientious words written by an honest person”: “The Literary Sage lineage has profound knowledge, and even thicker skin. Second Shopkeeper, come to my Flowing Glow Continent in the future, and I’ll treat you to real good wine.”

Clearly, this is someone who, like Wang Zai, is about to go to Upside-Down Mountain.

Wang Zai says to himself, “If it were him, he would say, ‘Such a good person, how is he only a Nascent Soul sword cultivator? It doesn’t make sense. Jade Pure Realm is too low, and Immortal Realm isn’t considered a genius.'”

Wang Zai smiles slightly, “It’s just that if the Second Shopkeeper said these words, it would be pleasing. If someone like me said it, it would be like an old woman putting rouge on her face, only causing annoyance.”

Not all outsiders can become like Chen Ping’an, becoming family in the hearts of the sword cultivators of the Sword Qi Great Wall.

Wang Zai feels happy for Chen Ping’an, but also a little sad.

Wang Zai hesitates for a moment, then adds a line of tiny characters to his plaque, “To practice benevolence is up to oneself. If one desires benevolence, then benevolence will come. May those who have this heart be free from all worries.”

Wang Zai notices a young man named Jiang Qu, from Raincape Alley, standing not far from him, coming to the shop to fetch wine.

Wang Zai turns around and smiles at the young man, “Tell your Second Shopkeeper that the wine tastes good, and try to sell more, obtain it with integrity, and be upright and honest.”

Jiang Qu smiles shyly and nods vigorously.

Wang Zai drinks the pot of wine in one gulp, then places the empty wine pot on the counter, laughs loudly, and leaves. As he exits, he clasps his hands to the many sword cultivators at the wine tables and on the roadside, and says loudly, “Who dares to buy swords and sell wine? Drink a thousand cups without taking a single coin.”

The surroundings are silent, as expected. Wang Zai laughs loudly, “Then I’ll change it to something more direct. I hope that one day, when you Sword Immortals come here to drink, the drinkers will be like whales sucking up hundreds of rivers, and the shopkeeper won’t take a single immortal coin.”

No one appreciates it.

Someone sneers, “Gentleman, did you put poison in the wine? No matter how bad the Second Shopkeeper’s character is, he still wouldn’t do something like that. A dignified gentleman, a pure and upright sage, you shouldn’t harm the Second Shopkeeper.”

Wang Zai doesn’t refute anything, smiles and leaves. After walking far away, he raises his arm high and gives a thumbs up, “It’s been a pleasure meeting you Sword Immortals.”

For a moment, there’s a lot of discussion in the wine shop.

“Is he possessed by the Second Shopkeeper? Or is he just impersonating the Second Shopkeeper? This kind of trick is too much, it’s too much.”
“Second Shopkeeper is truly remarkable, capable of converting even a Confucian of the Rites lineage into a Daoist friend?”

“Most likely, he was still a scholar with a shred of conscience remaining.”

Confucian Wang Zai departed from the tavern, walking through the narrow alleyway. He pulled out a simple, unadorned seal of white stone, as lustrous as jade. It was a gift Chen Pingan had secretly given him, complete with side inscriptions and the year of inscription.

The side inscription read: “The road is muddy, men are weary, heroes are slain, books unwritten. A true gentleman is not flamboyant, like massive rocks scattered across the horizon.”

The seal’s inscription in seal script read: “So, a Gentleman.”

Pei Qian finally came to her senses.

Belatedly realizing her shortcomings, she sought to compensate for wasted time by diligently practicing her fist techniques.

Again and again, she would soak in medicinal baths, lie in bed to recover, and then seek out Old Granny Bai to learn more about fist fighting.

Granny Bai was unwilling to teach her son-in-law the heavy-hitting techniques, but she was more than happy to teach this little girl.

It wasn’t dislike; quite the opposite. Among all of her son-in-law’s students and disciples, Bai Lianhua (霜, frost) favored Pei Qian the most.

On the surface, she seemed timid, but the little girl possessed the most ruthless intent within her eyes.

Guo Zhujiu, now freed from confinement, frequently wandered over. She would watch Pei Qian being beaten down time and again in the training yard, until she couldn’t get up anymore. Then, she would rush over and gently carry Pei Qian on her back.

Occasionally, when Guo Zhujiu had nothing to do, she would also ask the old tutor Zhong some questions about fist fighting.

One day, after Pei Qian woke up, Guo Zhujiu sat by the doorway, keeping the temporarily bedridden senior apprentice company and alleviating her boredom.

Whether the senior apprentice wanted to talk to her or not, Guo Zhujiu didn’t care. In any case, the senior apprentice was certainly willing. When she got tired of talking, Guo Zhujiu would pick up the inkstone, breathe on it, and show it off to the senior apprentice.

Bai Shou passed by the residence again that day. The door wasn’t closed, but Bai Shou didn’t dare to tempt fate, hurrying past.

Guo Zhujiu lowered her voice and asked, “Little Shorty Senior Apprentice, don’t you think Bai Shou likes you?”

Pei Qian was struck as if by lightning. “What?!”

Guo Zhujiu was surprised. “You can’t see that? Do you believe I should go ask Bai Shou, he will surely say he does not like you? But you’ve definitely heard a saying, right, the words coming out of a man’s mouth are just ghosts being sunned under the broad daylight.”

Pei Qian was past concerning herself whether Bai Shou liked her. It seemed a small matter whose outcome, according to Guo Zhujiu, was predetermined regardless. Pei Qian punched the bed. “It infuriates me!”

Guo Zhujiu lowered her head and polished the inkstone, sighing. “I also know that some spinster is constantly saying, a married daughter is like water that’s been spilled. So, in the future, even if Senior Apprentice is a member of the Grand Mysteries Sword Sect, the seat of the ancestral hall in Master’s hometown will be empty. Wouldn’t it be leaderless, other than Master? Worrying ah.”

Pei Qian angrily said, “Don’t you dare usurp my position! My seat has a paper slip with my name on it! Besides Master, no one can sit there!”

Guo Zhujiu said, “Oh,” and then said, “Then, we’ll talk about it later, there’s no rush.”

Pei Qian suddenly said, “Why isn’t Bai Shou liking you instead?”

Guo Zhujiu raised her head, straight-faced, “He is not blind, why would he not like such a great Senior Apprentice and like me instead?”

Pei Qian folded her arms across her chest, chuckling. “That’s hard to say.”

Guo Zhujiu smiled mischievously. “I was just joking with Senior Apprentice. Whoever believes that will trip and fall while walking.”

Pei Qian twitched the corners of her mouth.

Pei Qian quietly asked, “Guo Zhujiu, when will you come to Fallen Mountain to play with me?”

Guo Zhujiu was somewhat dispirited. “It’s not up to me. My parents are too strict, there’s no way.”

Pei Qian was silent for a moment, then smiled. “Kind but harsh words, even if you don’t like hearing them, don’t ignore them. Anyway, your parents and elders, even if they speak their minds, they can’t say much to you. If they say too much, they themselves will feel sorry.”

Guo Zhujiu thought about it and nodded. “Okay.”

After a moment of silence, Guo Zhujiu glanced at the traveling staff resting on the table. Taking advantage of Senior Apprentice’s drowsy, heavy sleep, she helped wipe the traveling staff, spitting on it, wiping it with her sleeve, and finally even using her face, with utter sincerity.

“Senior Apprentice, can I borrow your little bamboo box to carry on my back?”

“Why? What for?”

“It looks good on my back! Senior Apprentice, why are you talking without thinking? Your brain is so clever, why doesn’t it obey your commands?”

Pei Qian felt exhausted talking to Guo Zhujiu.

“Senior Apprentice, is stinky tofu really that delicious?”

“It’s so fragrant!”

“Does that mean if you eat stinky tofu, your farts will also be fragrant?”

“Guo Zhujiu, are you annoying or not?!”

Then Pei Qian saw that girl, sitting by the doorway, her mouth not stopping, constantly speaking in sign language, without any sound.

Even if Pei Qian deliberately didn’t look at her, she was enjoying herself. If she accidentally looked at her, she would become even more energetic.

Pei Qian helplessly said, “You should just start talking again. It’s better to be annoyed by you than to have my head hurt.”

Guo Zhujiu suddenly said, “If there comes a day when I can’t talk to Senior Apprentice anymore, Senior Apprentice should still think of me and keep getting annoyed, annoyed, annoyed, then you’ll remember me more.”

Pei Qian looked at the little girl with a smile on her face, speechless.

A figure in a green robe sat by the doorway, and with a gesture of his hand motioned for Pei Qian to just lie down.

Chen Pingan sat beside Guo Zhujiu, and laughed: “Such small age, do not say these words. Even Master does not say them, so why would it be up to you all.”