Liu Xianyang truly was just returning to his hometown for a visit. After that, he boarded the Dragon Boat ferry named “Fanmo” belonging to Luopo Mountain. It couldn’t directly reach Old Dragon City and needed to transfer at a celestial ferry near Shushui Country in the central part of Baoping Continent, then travel south along the Walking Dragon Path.

All direct lineage cultivators from Zhuchai Island’s ancestral hall had already moved from Shujian Lake to Aoyu Ridge, considered one of the earliest immortal forces to forge an alliance with Luopo Mountain.

The former Princess Regent, now Island Master Liu Chongrun, personally served as the temporary ferry manager. Without an Earth Immortal cultivator overseeing a ferry, it was ultimately difficult to reassure people.

Ruan Xiu saw Liu Xianyang off at the Niujiao Mountain ferry.

The Dragon Boat was immense, in itself a mountain of gold and silver. Liu Xianyang was filled with emotion. Back in the day, of the three, the one who most wanted to make money wasn’t Gu Can, but Chen Ping’an. However, unlike Gu Can, who, when thinking about making money, already had plans on how to spend it, Chen Ping’an was simply afraid of being poor. Only by earning money every day, no matter how much, could he make his unstable days stable and his stable days even more so, even if his savings only increased by a single copper coin compared to yesterday.

This trip back home, Liu Xianyang mostly spent visiting door to door, chatting with the elderly neighbors who remained in the town. The old people dwindled year by year, while the children wearing open-crotch pants grew up year by year, each with their own marriages. Even if they saw Liu Xianyang, they might not recognize him. Those of his peers were busy doing business in the prefectural city, so the opportunities for Liu Xianyang to truly talk with people were few and far between, and destined to become even fewer in the future.

Now, chatting with the elderly, Ma Kuxuan of Apricot Blossom Lane, who became an immortal on the mountain, Chen Ping’an, the great landlord who bought many mountains in his hometown, Song Jixin, who inexplicably became a dragon son and grandson, and Dong Shuijing, who was doing big business with the officials in the prefectural city, were the most discussed figures among the townspeople.

Moreover, these old people who had endured hardship seemed to particularly like praising the feng shui of Apricot Blossom Lane and Mud Bottle Lane, saying it was no less than Fortune and Prosperity Street and Peach Leaf Lane.

Liu Xianyang liked listening to the elders talk about these everyday family matters, especially some elders who weren’t familiar with Mud Bottle Lane, talking about that Chen Ping’an as if he were their own younger generation whom they had watched grow up. It made Liu Xianyang very happy. Indeed, Chen Ping’an had always been relatively good at dealing with people, especially with elders. He didn’t talk much usually, but he would take the initiative to greet people he met on the road, never confusing seniority, even if the other person ignored him, not even giving him a glance. The next time they met, the Mud Bottle Lane boy would still respectfully address them.

Some people become wealthy suddenly due to good fortune, which is enviable but unattainable. But some achievements are built on accumulated bits and pieces, seemingly easy to learn, yet seemingly impossible to master.

Liu Xianyang waited for the Dragon Boat ferry to dock, needing to unload and load cargo. Nowadays, the Dragon Boat business was related to the Pima Sect and Chunlu Nursery of Northern Ju Continent, matters that many townspeople couldn’t even imagine.

Liu Xianyang suddenly asked with a smile, “That child named Xie Ling on the mountain, his appearance is quite extraordinary.”

Words with hidden meaning, a traditional custom of the town.

Ruan Xiu hummed in agreement and said, “Just a child.”

Liu Xianyang was somewhat gloating.

Ruan Xiu said, “You can’t control Gu Can.”

Liu Xianyang nodded and said, “At most, I’ll just beat him up. Gu Can won’t fight back, but I can’t change his fundamental nature as a little snot-nosed kid. I knew this a long time ago, so I never thought about how to control him. This little bastard at least has some conscience left, knowing who’s truly good to him.”

Ruan Xiu and Liu Xianyang were old acquaintances. Liu Xianyang actually entered the sword-forging shop by the Dragon Beard River earlier than Chen Ping’an, and he was an apprentice, not like Chen Ping’an’s later short-term helper. Whether it was firing porcelain or forging swords, Liu Xianyang seemed to adapt faster than Chen Ping’an. Liu Xianyang was like paving the road, and once he had a path to walk, he liked to pull Chen Ping’an along behind him.

In life, many people are willing for their friends to live well, but they are not necessarily willing for their friends to live better than them, especially much better.

Liu Xianyang wasn’t like that, and neither was Chen Ping’an. This was probably why two people with vastly different temperaments could become true friends, and after both had undergone earth-shattering changes in their lives, they were even more so friends.

Ruan Xiu held a silk handkerchief in one hand, picked up a piece of peach blossom cake, and asked, “Didn’t you go to Mud Bottle Lane to say hello and chat with her?”

Liu Xianyang sighed with emotion, “The youthful infatuation of youth, looking back, is just a beautiful memory.”

After Liu Xianyang finished sighing, Ruan Xiu had already finished a piece of cake and picked up a piece of almond crisp, saying, “What did you talk about with my father? My father seemed quite happy.”

Liu Xianyang said with a chuckle, “Master Ruan drank wine, and I scolded Chen Ping’an.”

Ruan Xiu said, “Oh.”

Liu Xianyang wasn’t exactly lying, but there was another important matter that he couldn’t tell Ruan Xiu. When Chen Chunan returned from his trip to the sea, he found Liu Xianyang and asked him to return to his hometown to help deliver a message to the Song Clan of Great Li in Baoping Continent. Liu Xianyang thought it was more appropriate for Ruan Qiong, the Chief Enshrinement of Great Li and his future master, to argue with the young emperor. That matter wasn’t small, it concerned the fact that the Pure Confucian Chen Clan would support the Great Sui Cliffside Academy to return to the ranks of the Seventy-Two Academies, but the Pure Confucian Chen Clan wasn’t familiar with the Deerwood Academy built by Great Li on Mount Piyun and wouldn’t say a single word about it in the Confucian Temple.

Liu Xianyang was somewhat puzzled at the time, so he frankly asked why the Pure Confucian Chen Clan of the Asian Sage’s lineage was doing this, and if they weren’t worried about internal criticism within the Asian Sage’s lineage?

Liu Xianyang’s hidden worry wasn’t without reason. A Vice-preceptor of the Central Earth Confucian Temple, whether in cultivation or seniority, was on par with Chen Chunan. In short, Chen Chunan was a famous Pure Confucian scholar, a pillar of the Asian Sage’s lineage, but Chen Chunan’s words and deeds would still be subject to many constraints within the Asian Sage’s literary lineage.
Chen Chun’an seemed to be in a good mood at the time. He told Liu Xianyang that it was a deal between him and Chen Ping’an, a transaction amongst scholars. If Chen Ping’an only relied on his identity as a closed-door disciple of the Literary Sage lineage and dared to speak such grand and empty words to him, Chen Chun’an, then things would not be so amicable. Finally, on the stone cliff where the great river surged below, Chen Chun’an patted Liu Xianyang’s shoulder and said some novel words to the younger man. He said that scholars shouldn’t be ashamed to talk about benefits, that the ideals in their hearts should be lofty, but their actions should be grounded and substantial. Scholars should step out of their studies and walk among the common people, speaking of principles that even the illiterate could understand.

Liu Xianyang blurted out a sentence at the time, saying that their fellow travelers as scholars shouldn’t just be scholars.

The old man was greatly pleased, stroking his beard and smiling, saying that the family style and learning style of their Pure Confucian Chen clan were quite good.

Ruan Xiu suddenly said, “If you’ve said you’re not too concerned, then why still take the underground river route? There are ferries to the Old Dragon City.”

Liu Xianyang rubbed his cheeks, saying, “The small town was only so big back then. I wouldn’t dare to think too much about the pretty girls on Fortune Street and Peach Leaf Lane. But she was different, she was Chen Ping’an’s neighbor, living in Mud Bottle Lane, a place not even as good as my ancestral home. She was still Song Bancai’s maid, doing chores like carrying water and cooking. I still felt that I was worthy of her, no matter what. If you really want to know how much I liked her, okay, I did, I liked her a lot. But it wasn’t to the point of being obsessed and restless. I leave it to fate, whether we’re together or not, so what?”

Ruan Xiu asked, “What kind of place is Sword Qi Great Wall?”

Liu Xianyang thought for a while, “It’s a place where everything is lacking, except for sword cultivators. Cultivation, life and death, at Sword Qi Great Wall, it seems like they’re not such big deals. So there are many drunkards there, sword cultivators and sword immortals alike like to drink after all. In fact, in my impression, Sword Qi Great Wall is the place outside my hometown where experts are the least like experts.”

Ruan Xiu nodded.

Liu Xianyang’s expression was awkward. After hesitating for a long time, he finally couldn’t help but say, “Ruan Xiu, I’ve known you for a long time, right? We have a good relationship too, right? But there are some things that I really can’t say too much about. Chen Ping’an and you, you’re both my friends. So I can only try my best not to say those words that you might want to hear on certain matters.”

Ruan Xiu raised her head, looked at Liu Xianyang, and shook her head, “I don’t want to hear those words that you think I want to hear, such as Ruan Xiu is better than Ning Yao, and you and I are better friends than Ning Yao.”

Liu Xianyang was relieved and smiled, “Ruan Girl is Ruan Girl after all.”

Ruan Xiu said, “The reason I asked just now, besides being curious about what Sword Qi Great Wall is like now, is also to know if he’s doing well there. If he’s doing well because Ning Yao is there, I’m his friend, of course I’ll be very happy too.”

Liu Xianyang was just about to follow Ruan Xiu’s words and chat a bit more, saying how Chen Ping’an was like a fish in water at Sword Qi Great Wall, but Liu Xianyang suddenly stopped and silently warned himself not to be too talkative.

In a few more years, when Liu Xianyang returns to his hometown again, he will rightfully become the direct inheritor of the Ancestral Hall of the Dragon Spring Sword Sect. Regarding this matter, after Liu Xianyang ascended the mountain, Ruan Qiong made it clear to the direct inheritors and registered disciples. It’s just that Liu Xianyang’s ranking on the Ancestral Hall genealogy, whether it’s after the founding disciple Dong Gu, or directly thrown after Xie Ling, Ruan Qiong didn’t say, Liu Xianyang didn’t ask, and it became a fun topic for many registered disciples of the Dragon Spring Sword Sect to talk about during their leisure time. The entire sect is now familiar with the Sect Leader’s temperament, as long as they practice the sword sincerely and avoid too many verbal taboos. There is much speculation about Liu Xianyang’s cultivation realm. After all, there are not many sword cultivators among formal Confucian disciples.

Ruan Xiu asked curiously, “Why are you still willing to come back here and practice sword cultivation at Dragon Spring Sword Sect? My father can’t actually teach you anything.”

Liu Xianyang said helplessly, “Chen Ping’an is too good at taking care of others, not very good at taking care of himself. I’m worried when I’m far away.”

“I’m worried about Chen Ping’an.”

Ruan Xiu softly muttered Liu Xianyang’s heartfelt words. She smiled, put away her embroidered handkerchief and placed it in her sleeve, and gently twisted the corner of her sleeve with her fingers that were stained with some pastry crumbs. “Liu Xianyang, not everyone is qualified to say these words. Maybe it was okay before, but it will be very, very difficult in the future.”

Liu Xianyang smiled and said, “I’m worried about Chen Ping’an.”

Ruan Xiu smiled and squinted, pretending to be stupid.

The Old Dragon City Princely Manor, study.

On the desk were placed some orthodox history books from different dynasties, collections of works from literary masters, and books of paintings and calligraphy. There were no immortal items used as decorations.

Behind the desk were four screens. One was an old map of the Great Li Dynasty, one was a map of Treasure Bottle Continent, and the remaining two were maps showing the distribution of immortal sects in Willow Leaf Continent and Northern Jūru Continent respectively.

Song Jixin, who had just returned to the southern fiefdom from his northern hometown, sat alone in the study, moving the direction of his chair to face the four screens.

Song Jixin held a delicate nourishing heart kettle in both hands, gently turning it. The inscription on the bottom of the kettle read “Mountain Goblin.”

Song Jixin gently twisted the small kettle in his hand. This item had been recovered after being lost, and it could be considered returning to its original owner, but the means were not very honorable. However, Song Jixin didn’t care what Fu Nanhua thought.

Back then, when Fu Nanhua entered the Carp Leaping Grotto-Heaven, he bought this small kettle from Song Jixin with a bag of gold essence copper coins and an Old Dragon Rain-Bringing token. This deal was actually fair, of course, Fu Nanhua still managed to pick up a big bargain based on his own ability. Unlike many mountain treasures that only had ranks and were useless to Earth Immortal cultivators, this nourishing heart kettle was a rare treasure of extremely high rank, most suitable for Earth Immortals to nourish their Dao heart and moisten their Qi palace. Not only that, but there was a small cave inside the kettle, and it was also a spatial item. Therefore, after Fu Nanhua got his hands on it, he asked an expert to examine it and was overjoyed, treasuring it very much.

Yesterday, when Fu Nanhua was “reminiscing about the old days” with the young Prince, Song Jixin mentioned this small kettle. Today, Fu Nanhua sent someone to deliver it.

Song Jixin was not really greedy for a nourishing heart kettle. Rather, this trip back to his hometown made the young Prince, who had always seemed diligent in governing but was actually getting by, unknowingly raise a spirit from Song Jixin of Mud Bottle Lane, who didn’t seek merit but sought no demerits, and finally began to identify himself as the Great Li Prince “Song Mu”. Then, this small kettle that had returned to his hands, Song Jixin released one hand and gently weighed it. This was the weight of power below the mountain.
Since ancient times, immortals have looked down upon kings and nobles.

But the current Great Li Dynasty is different. It has already suppressed, restrained, and intimidated all the mountain forces within the continent, leaving them gasping for breath. What if you are a colossal entity like the Divine Edict Sect or the True Realm Sect, with the backing of other continents? When you arrive at the imperial study’s minor court assembly of the Great Li Emperor “Song He,” you still have to act as half a subject, watching his face and behaving accordingly, obediently sitting down and obediently standing up.

Song Jixin casually tossed the priceless small pot, catching it with alternating hands.

Behind him on the table were two confidential files, both intelligence that Song Jixin had requested from the Bronze Figure Dew-Collecting Platform. Song Jixin didn’t trust the Green Wave Pavilion’s spies at all, because the Green Wave Pavilion’s earliest master was, after all, the Great Li Empress, now the Empress Dowager, and Song Jixin’s biological mother. Although the Green Wave Pavilion and the Cattle and Horse Enclosure now belong to the National Preceptor, Song Jixin is very clear that many of the old people who haven’t been removed from the Green Wave Pavilion know how to choose between Emperor Song He, the Empress Dowager, and the weak Prince Song Mu. Even a fool would know what to do.

The Dew-Collecting Platform, however, is an intelligence agency unique to the Great Li military, only obeying the orders of Imperial Uncle Song Changjing. Even National Preceptor Cui Chan has never interfered with it.

Song Jixin turned his head and glanced at the two files. One was a detailed list of the Fifth Realm cultivators in the Northern Ju Continent, and the other was a brief file about “Young Cui Dongshan.”

The Fire Dragon Real Person of Crawling Peak, Li Yu of the Sunset Glow lineage, had already dissolved her immortal form and departed. Yuan Lingdian of Pointing at Mystery Peak. In addition, there were the White Cloud and Peach Mountain lineages. Fortunately, only one of them was in the Nascent Soul realm, otherwise the Fire Dragon Real Person’s lineage would have been truly terrifying.

Celestial Monarch Xie Shi.

The Hemp-Clothed Sect of Bone Beach, Sect Master Zhu Quan, and two Ancestral Masters.

Gao Cheng of Specter Valley’s Jingguan City.

Among the peach groves were Daoist temples and Buddhist monasteries, hidden and tucked away. The specifics of their foundations were temporarily unknown.

Floating Duckweed Sword Lake’s female Sword Immortal, Li Cai, had already traveled far to the Sword Qi Great Wall.

Grand Empyrean Sword Sect’s Sect Master Han Huaizi, Ancestral Master Huang Tong, and the new Jade Purity Realm Sword Immortal Liu Jinglong. Han Huaizi had also been at the Sword Qi Great Wall for many years.

The Northern Land’s number one Sword Immortal, White Robe, Xu Xuan’s teacher.

Ji Yue of Ape Howl Mountain had already died in battle, exchanging his life with the Tenth Realm martial artist Gu You. This was a great loss for the entire Northern Ju Continent.

Water Dragon Sect, Sun Jie of the Northern Sect and Shao Jingzhi of the Southern Sect.

The Qionglin Sect’s Sect Master.

The Yang family head of the Great Origin Dynasty’s Cloud Firmament Palace in the Cultivating Mystery Bureau.

He Xiaoliang of the Pure Cool Sect.

Huang Jurang, a rogue Immortal Realm cultivator whose life or death was temporarily unknown.

In addition, there were many existences similar to the Peach Grove Daoist temples and Buddhist monasteries, as well as those experts who rarely appeared in the world and quietly secluded themselves in cultivation. It was difficult for the Great Li Dynasty’s intelligence to truly penetrate the heart of the Northern Ju Continent to explore those long-sealed truths. There was also some secret history regarding the Sword Qi Great Wall journeys of all the living and dead sword immortals.

As for that Cui Dongshan, the Dew-Collecting Platform only provided a blank sheet of paper.

However, there were two sheets of paper that had been transferred from the Ministry of Justice to this study. One briefly described where this person had appeared, stayed, and his words and deeds, with his student life at the academy being the most detailed. He first appeared in the Luminous Pearl Grotto Heaven, which had not yet been shattered and fallen. Afterwards, he took the young prince of the fallen Lu Kingdom, Yu Lu, and a girl who had been renamed Xie Xie, to the Great Sui Academy. There, he clashed with Cai Jingshen, who was worshiped by the Gao family of the Great Sui, and caused a dazzling rain of magical treasures to fall in the capital. Later, he pursued and killed a Nascent Soul bottleneck Sword Cultivator from the Vermillion Fluorescence Dynasty with Ruan Xiu, successfully killing him on the border of the Vermillion Fluorescence Dynasty.

The final words on the first page of the Ministry of Justice’s file were that this person broke through realms extremely quickly, possessed a multitude of magical treasures, and had an extremely strange temperament.

The second page was densely packed with introductions to those magical treasures.

Song Jixin withdrew his gaze and turned to continue staring at the four-panel screen. The mountain cultivators who now entered and exited the Prince’s residence were a mixed bag. Many concealed their identities, and if they didn’t take the initiative to reveal them, Song Jixin wouldn’t be able to guess them even if he racked his brains. There were secret enshrined members of the Ancestral Hall of the Tongye Sect who had been lurking in Treasure Bottle Continent for many years, as well as the Qionglin Sect of Northern Ju Continent’s business managers in Treasure Bottle Continent.

Song Jixin was initially like an idiot, only able to say appropriate words as much as possible. But after the fact, Song Jixin suddenly realized that the words he thought were appropriate were actually the most inappropriate. It was estimated that many worldly experts who didn’t hesitate to reveal their identities would feel that chatting with this young prince was like casting pearls before swine.

Because Song Jixin had never understood what he wanted all along.

Reclaim Song He’s original name? Compete with his younger brother for the dragon throne? Song Jixin had no interest, or rather, Song Jixin was very afraid of repeating the same mistakes. Anyone who had read a few history books knew that fraternal strife in imperial families resulted in many deaths. The current Emperor and Empress Dowager were, after all, his close relatives. Song Jixin discovered that his life had always been so muddled, loving anyone with purity was difficult, hating anyone thoroughly was impossible, and in the end, he would have to pay them back one by one: Supervising Official Song Yuzhang, neighbor Chen Pingan, maid Zhigui…

He couldn’t continue like this.

Song Jixin clenched the nourishing heart pot in his hand and suddenly stood up.

Zhigui, who had been quietly standing at the door of the study for a long time, spoke up at this moment, “Young master, someone is seeking an audience and has been waiting for a long time. It is the Yunlin Jiang Clan’s direct descendant daughter, Fu Nanhua’s wife in name only. Hmm, that woman looks a little plump. But it is a high-level cultivator who has cast an illusion, and her true appearance is, well, passable.”

Song Jixin smiled and walked towards the door.

Walking alongside her, Song Jixin softly asked, “Snake gallstones, golden copper coins, how much do you need?”

Zhigui’s eyes lit up, and she smiled, “Young master, of course, the more the better, just like the silver in the early years. It’s just that the imperial court is very strict in managing these materials now, and they won’t be taken out of the imperial treasury in the capital casually.”

Song Jixin smiled, “Don’t worry, just find a trivial matter as an excuse. I can make a deal with the Mountain Lord of the Southern Mountain, use that Fan Junmao as a smokescreen, and try to intercept half of it for you.”

Zhigui seemed surprised and secretly glanced at Song Jixin. The young master was a little different now.

She continued to scan the surroundings, but did not reveal any divine secrets.

There were only a handful of figures in Treasure Bottle Continent that could make her feel wary, and there happened to be one here, and the one she was least willing to provoke.

After Song Jixin left the study,

A young man in white walked out from behind the four-panel screen, and a dull child who didn’t need to breathe from beginning to end was squatting in the corner.
Cui Dongshan tapped his back with a folded fan, conjured a writing brush with a flick of his wrist, and circled and scribbled on a screen. He generously added names of cultivators above the fifth realm to the record of Northern Club Celery Continent’s foundation. Then, he leaned on the table, reviewing the three pages of paper detailing his own affairs. First, he supplemented numerous unnamed magical treasures on the two pages of Criminal Department archives. Finally, on the blank page labeled “Cattle and Horse Pen,” he wrote, “Cui Chan is a damn old turtle. Don’t believe me? Go ask him.”

After finishing, he seemed quite satisfied.

He beckoned, calling Gao, the young boy, to his side. Cui Dongshan bent down and began painting on the child’s face with his brush.

Without looking up, he smiled and said, “Ma Kuxuan, you’ve become accustomed to privilege and disregard rules. One day, you’ll suffer greatly.”

Ma Kuxuan materialized, leaning against the study door. “How great a suffering? Death and dissipation? Entanglement of karma? State Preceptor, others might not know, being frogs in a well, content in shallow waters. But how could you not realize that’s what I fear least?”

Cui Dongshan continued to draw a turtle on Gao’s face. “On the way here, I saw a righteous scholar, somewhat skilled in understanding the hearts of men and the movements of fate. Facing a squad of Great Li iron cavalry, he feigned a noble death, willing to sacrifice himself for his nation, nearly succeeding in swindling a reputation for integrity. So, I ordered the soldiers to sheathe their swords, and only use the hilts to shatter one of his fingers. I only spoke a few words with that official, reminding him that life isn’t just about life and death; there are countless tribulations in between. As long as he could endure the pain of his fingers being crushed, he could rest assured that I would guarantee him a place as a literary leader in that small tributary state for the rest of his life, and even a posthumous title of ‘Wen Zhen’ after his death. Guess what happened?”

Ma Kuxuan frowned.

Cui Dongshan finished his artwork, nodding in approval, recognizing touches of divine inspiration, worthy of his life’s work. Only then did he turn to smile. “You say you aren’t afraid of death and dissipation. I believe you. But you don’t even understand the severity of karmic entanglement. How dare a frog in a well claim to know what it fears? Just consider the matter of Ma Lan Hua. Who arranged it? Don’t think I am trying to frighten you. Just relying on a high realm to claim great abilities is foolish. How many people can actually kill me? Even if you attain a heaven-shattering realm in the future, I can still cause you centuries of heartache with a casual gesture. So, be smart and save me some trouble. What benefit do I gain from the day you discover your true fears? The core of the doctrine of pragmatism is to prevent people from acting foolishly, and to ensure that those who seek profit can obtain it.”

Ma Kuxuan nodded. “That makes sense.”

Cui Dongshan sat in his chair, twirling his fan, and said with a grin, “A few days without a beating and you go bullying the poor beggar. Don’t you think it’s amusing?”

Ma Kuxuan laughed. “Today you can bully the poor beggar, tomorrow maybe you can bully the rich man. People have to have something to strive for, or they might as well be beggars forever.”

Cui Dongshan suddenly understood, nodding vigorously. “That makes sense.”

Ma Kuxuan cupped his fist in salute. “I hope to continue receiving the State Preceptor’s teachings in the future.”

After Ma Kuxuan left, Cui Dongshan waved his fan, relaxed and content. On the fan were written four large characters in running script: “Persuade with Virtue.”

Cui Dongshan extended a finger, casually making gestures, as if writing words. He congratulated himself, “A vertical stroke of three inches, reaching a thousand fathoms high. A wisp of dry brush, lifting a rainbow into the void…”

Cui Dongshan turned his head, looking at the child who stood silently beside the desk. “Whose child is this? So handsome.”

The child, his face covered in scribbles, suddenly said, “Sir, I want to learn Go.”

Cui Dongshan rolled his eyes. “Teaching martial arts starves the master. What benefit do I get from teaching you Go?”

The child said, “I can play Go with you, Sir.”

Cui Dongshan shook his head, offering no answer, but uttering a nonsensical phrase: “A lost hairpin and an old sword, will eventually return.”

Carving a boat to find a sword is no foolishness; the worries of Qi are no laughing matter.

Cui Dongshan began to close his eyes to rest.

The child began to stare blankly.

Half an hour later, Song Jixin returned to the study alone. Zhigui said he wanted to take a walk outside the city.

Song Jixin stopped in his tracks when he saw the uninvited white-robed youth, then continued forward, selecting a chair and sitting down, smiling. “Master Cui is truly making himself at home.”

Old Dragon City was not a place where cultivators could enter as if it were their own.

Cui Dongshan opened his eyes and asked, “Do you know who I am?”

Song Jixin nodded. “I have some guesses.”

Cui Dongshan tapped his shoulder with the fan. “Little Gao, tell him who I am. I’m afraid he might guess wrong.”

The child said matter-of-factly, “My teacher is Dongshan.”

Cui Dongshan closed his fan, suddenly bursting into laughter, nearly tipping over the chair.

Cui Dongshan abruptly composed himself and stood up.

Intimidated by the aura and intangible pressure, Song Jixin involuntarily stood up as well.

Cui Dongshan said in a deep voice, “Now that things have come to this, I won’t beat around the bush. I am Cui Dongshan, and that Cui Chan is my most worthless disciple’s disciple.”

Song Jixin bowed and said softly, “State Preceptor, why be so harsh on yourself?”

Cui Dongshan used his hand as a fan, letting the breeze caress his face. “How to dispel sorrow? Only with self-deprecation.”

The three pages of paper on the table all turned to ashes, scattering in the wind.

Cui Dongshan walked around the table to the windowsill near Song Jixin and said softly, “Qi Jingchun had high expectations for you. Why have you been so indifferent these past few years?”

Song Jixin remained silent.

Cui Dongshan sighed. “Song Jixin, ah, Song Jixin, do you know that in many tales, someone with your fate would be the first character to appear, or the last one at the end? Why are you so unmotivated? Is your brain not working? Look at that Ma Kuxuan in Apricot Blossom Lane, he carries a cat with him. You’re even more impressive; before leaving, you brought along a Wang Zhu. Plus, there’s Xie Ling from Peach Leaf Lane. Your ancestors can walk out from the first few pages of your family records. You people are all the darlings of fate, little gods!”

Song Jixin’s face turned ugly. What was all this nonsense?

The white-robed youth looked up, feigning silent tears. Perhaps feeling the atmosphere was not right, he snapped his fingers.

The young Gao understood and began to sing a little tune, a cheerful story about how delicious stinky tofu was.
To Cui Dongshan’s eyes, a man could live well in two ways. One was to be blessed by the heavens, facing minor troubles but free from major worries, opening and closing their eyes to comfortable days. The other was to be blessed by their ancestors, possessing a skill to rely on, spared from the wind, sun, and rain, and having money to buy candied haws and stinky tofu, enjoying a skewer of each in every hand.

Pitiful was the young princely vassal, standing still, at a loss for what to think.

On the plaza outside the Ancestral Hall of Azure Peak, a grand martial arts gathering was held. To show their importance, a table and four long benches were placed, laden with fruits and pastries.

Of course, the doors of the Ancestral Hall were not opened casually, and even less could things be moved out at will. Therefore, the tables and benches were specially brought from the dilapidated mountain’s ancestral grounds.

Everyone present was now a bigwig of the East Flower Mountain branch under the Dragon Spring County main altar.

Branch Leader Pei Qian sat in the main seat, her back to the entrance of the Ancestral Hall, arms crossed. Before her on the table lay a wooden plaque, the alliance token of the Dragon Spring County main altar, entrusted to Pei Qian’s care by Sister Treasure Bottle for many years.

Zhou Mili, the Right Guardian of the dilapidated mountain, who had recently been promoted to Deputy Branch Leader, and Chen Nuan Shu, the branch’s honorary member, were attending the meeting. Chen Lingjun, another honorary member, was absent, a fact already noted in the accounts by Branch Leader Pei Qian.

The pink-skirted girl who managed all the key of dilapidated mountain, and the black-clothed girl, hugging a golden small carrying pole and a green bamboo walking stick, sat side-by-side on a long bench.

Li Huai, the small leader of a certain study hall in the branch’s academy, whose members included Liu Guan and Ma Lian, students of Mountain Cliff Academy, squeezed onto one bench. Liu Guan and Ma Lian were not only classmates at the Great Sui Mountain Cliff Academy, but also good friends in the same study hall. Liu Guan was from a poor family, while Ma Lian came from a powerful clan of the Great Sui. The Ma family was even related to the Gao family of Geyang through marriage. Liu Guan and Ma Lian were both promising scholars of the Great Sui, highly regarded by the academy’s teachers.

Also present was the Right Guardian of Riding Dragon Lane, formerly a incense doll from the Mantou Mountain and later the City God Pavilion of Dragon Province, who, because of his small size, was exceptionally allowed by the Branch Leader to sit on the table, honored to be face-to-face with her.

The Left Guardian of Riding Dragon Lane lay prone under the bench.

The Leader of the main altar and martial arts alliance, Li Baoping, and the Honorary Branch Leader, the Great White Goose Cui Dongshan, were both absent from the gathering.

Pei Qian cleared her throat, her gaze sweeping over the crowd, and said, “I have called you all here today to discuss three matters, not a child’s play… Zhou Mili, put the melon seeds back. Liu Guan, sit properly.”

The little girl silently put down the handful of melon seeds she was holding. Liu Guan sat up straight, crestfallen.

The Branch Leader was indeed impartial and ruthless, devoid of emotion.

Pei Qian spoke of three things. The first was to announce several rules of the branch, all fundamental principles for navigating the martial world, extracted by Pei Qian from martial arts novels, mainly revolving around her master’s teachings. For example, possessing a skill was the foundation for a martial artist’s existence, and upholding justice was the essence of their martial morality. Beyond fists, kicks, swords, and sabers, how to distinguish right from wrong, accurately assess situations, and flawlessly conclude matters was something a true hero needed to ponder deeply. Speaking out against injustice was essential, but not quite enough.

Next were the reasons for a series of personnel changes and promotions within the branch, with special commendation for Zhou Mili and the incense doll’s punctuality, as well as stern criticism for the Left Guardian of Riding Dragon Lane’s laziness.

Finally, she was about to travel to the Northern Entirety Continent with Li Huai. This was the branch’s first official expedition, so they needed to pool their wisdom and share their own experiences of navigating the world. Chen Nuan Shu would be responsible for writing it all down, compiling it into a booklet, and copying several copies to be distributed to everyone.

After discussing official business, Pei Qian waved her hand, “Crack melon seeds!”

Azure Peak was filled with laughter and joy.

Accompanied by the great winds and flying birds of the sky, the Coarse Linen Sect’s intercontinental ferry, dragged by heroic spirits through the sea of clouds, smoothly docked at the Bonelot Beach landing. The Coarse Linen Sect had two honorary members of the dilapidated mountain, the Nascent Soul cultivator Du Wensi, stationed in the Green Reed Town of the Ghost Domain Valley with Sect Master Zhu Quan, and Pang Lanxi, the direct descendant swordsman of the Wood Robe Mountain Ancestral Hall. Chen Lingjun, holding a walking stick and carrying a bamboo box, disembarked the ferry. Many cultivators who had traveled south to the Treasure Bottle Continent and were finally returning home flew off the ferry one after another, chattering loudly, like dumplings falling into a pot, and quarreled with many cultivators at the landing, opening Chen Lingjun’s eyes. The cultivators of the Northern Entirety Continent were indeed worthy of their reputation, filled with heroic spirit and extremely forthright. If this were the Ox Horn Mountain ferry of his own place, how many people would be beaten down by the Dragon Spring Sword Sect and the Great Li cultivators?

Chen Lingjun first went to the increasingly deserted Mural City and bought a set of *Lang Tian* paintings of goddesses as a formal gift for the Coarse Linen Sect. These expenses had been paid for in advance by the dilapidated mountain Ancestral Hall. However, Chen Lingjun did not use a single snowflake coin from that small treasury. What a joke, would Master Chen lack this little bit of money? If it had been in the Imperial River territory in his early years, walking the world with a clatter of coins in his pockets, the sound of the immortal money colliding would have been like thunder. It was only after arriving in Dragon Spring County that Master Chen became a little more amiable. Otherwise, with his fiery temper… he would have been beaten to death a long time ago.

Sometimes, Chen Lingjun, who liked to let his mind wander, always felt that all Qi Refinement practitioners should live in a small town for a while and humbly seek his guidance on worldly experience.

In the solemn and imposing Coarse Linen Sect, Sect Master Zhu Quan did not appear, and the two ancestors were also not on the mountain. One had been traveling abroad for many years. As for the other ancestor, the Law Enforcement Elder Yan Su, he had been busy with the elders of the Middle Earth Upper Sect, who had come to the Coarse Linen Sect, reinforcing the mountain protection array. Pang Lanxi was in closed-door cultivation, and Du Wensi was still arguing with those skeleton frames in Green Reed Town. Chen Lingjun did not see any acquaintances. On one hand, he secretly criticized his lord’s lack of prestige, that not even the sect master came to personally welcome him or host a welcoming banquet for him. On the other hand, he painstakingly maintained his image of having seen the world while carefully looking around. In the early years, at the blacksmith shop in the small town, he had sparred with Ruan Qiong and almost fallen for his tricks. A Wind and Snow Temple sage dressed like a peasant, wasn’t that obviously trying to trick people? Therefore, Chen Lingjun felt that he should be more cautious on this trip.
Having presented his gift, Chen Lingjun was received by a man named Wei Yusong. Amiable and seemingly powerless, Wei Yusong claimed to be a mere accountant constantly subjected to indignities, whose words carried no weight. Chen Lingjun felt an instant kinship, though he reminded himself not to be so quick to call anyone a brother on this journey.

Chen Lingjun had been diligently reading books, but mostly those detailing the dangers of various terrains. He hadn’t paid much attention to the locations that his Lord had frequented, places like the Hemp Robe Sect or the Spring Dew Garden, where his Lord had friendships. Now, finding Wei Yusong so agreeable, and thinking him a fine candidate for a blood oath brotherhood, Chen Lingjun hastily crammed. He secretly retrieved his Lord’s ledger and found an entry on Wei Yusong under the Hemp Robe Sect. His Lord had made a note, describing him as an exceptionally shrewd businessman and the Sect’s de facto treasurer, advising Chen Lingjun to treat him with respect and avoid frivolous chatter.

Realizing that the man was a significant figure in the financial affairs of a major sect, Chen Lingjun understood the situation. There were three types of people one should never trifle with on a celestial mountain: those who enforced the sect rules, undoubtedly powerful; those who controlled the finances, certainly ruthless; and finally, the youngest, direct disciples of the Ancestral Hall.

He bid farewell to Wei Yusong, declining his offer to escort him further and certainly not wanting to trouble him to see him off the mountain. As Chen Lingjun descended, he encountered an ordinary-looking woman on the path. Her gaze made him uncomfortable. *I am not Wei Bo*, he thought, *why are you staring at me?* Annoyingly, the woman surreptitiously followed him. Reaching the mountain gate, Chen Lingjun grew apprehensive and considered changing his plans, perhaps staying a few days at the Hemp Robe Sect to shake her off.

At the gate, the woman, with a knife at her waist, introduced herself as Zhu Quan. Chen Lingjun’s knees nearly buckled.

Zhu Quan smiled, “Wei Bo has already sent a flying sword message to Wood Robe Mountain. If you encounter any trouble sailing the rivers, you can invoke the name of Zhu Quan of the Hemp Robe Sect. It might not guarantee your life, but it will certainly help you avenge your death. Of course, it’s best to avoid trouble altogether. But that’s unlikely; in North Entire Reed Continent, what kind of cultivation is it if you don’t attract any trouble?”

Chen Lingjun stammered his thanks. Zhu Quan waved dismissively, and as Chen Lingjun bid farewell, she suddenly asked, “When will Chen Ping’an return from the Sword Qi Great Wall?”

Chen Lingjun shook his head. “I’m not sure. My Lord’s travels are unpredictable, with no set return date.”

Zhu Quan glanced at Chen Lingjun’s bamboo trunk and walking stick, and laughed. “Is this the standard adventurer’s gear for you at Fallen Phoenix Mountain?”

Chen Lingjun nodded vigorously.

Zhu Quan sighed. “I envy that fellow’s…freedom.”

Chen Lingjun couldn’t comprehend the obscure language of these mountain peak figures, hidden in clouds, but he could tell that this renowned Sect Master held his Lord in high regard. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have bothered returning to Wood Robe Mountain from Ghost Domain Valley. The most important thing in the Immortal family is equal status and treating people, and the rules are complicated. In fact, Chen Lingjun was very satisfied with Wei Yusong seeing him.

A sect leader above the Fifth Realm, who dared to fight Gao Cheng in Ghost Domain Valley for so many years – such a heroic woman, actually appearing in person! As Chen Lingjun left Wood Robe Mountain, his steps felt light.

Following his planned route, Chen Lingjun boarded a Spring Dew Garden ferry bound for the eastern estuary of the Ji River. The ferry manager was Song Lanchiao, a Golden Core cultivator who now held a seat in the Spring Dew Garden’s Ancestral Hall. After Chen Lingjun’s visit, Song Lanchiao’s courtesy was excessive, personally seating Chen Lingjun in the premium cabin and chatting with him for half the day. In his words, towards Chen Ping’an and Fallen Phoenix Mountain, besides a genuine warmth, there was a humble deference that made Chen Lingjun uncomfortable.

Fallen Phoenix Mountain, now allied with Cloud Robe Mountain, Hemp Robe Sect, and Spring Dew Garden, Wei Yusong of the Hemp Robe Sect and Tang Xi of the Spring Dew Garden were both responsible for handling the details of the alliance. Song Lanchiao and Tang Xi were allies, and Song Lanchiao’s place in the Ancestral Hall was thanks to the young Chen Sword Immortal. Moreover, the latter was close to Song Lanchiao’s master, whom Song Lanchiao had rarely seen remember a outsider in such a way, it was more than just a relationship between sword immortals.

The further Chen Lingjun traveled from home, the more homesick he became.

He missed everyone, even the old blind Daoist cultivating in a thatched hut on Yellow Lake Mountain.

As Wei Bo bid farewell at the ferry, he had said something about how for cultivators, killing with magic or oppressing with influence wasn’t too difficult, but winning people’s hearts was.

Chen Lingjun finally reread the parts of the ledger he had skipped before. Then, he went to the viewing platform, leaning on the railing in a daze. A bright moon hung in the sky, half-hidden in the sea of clouds, both far and near, as if the ferry could simply alter its course and crash into it, like a traveler passing through an archway.

Whether his Lord was at Fallen Phoenix Mountain made a difference – Chen Lingjun had long felt this.

But without leaving Fallen Phoenix Mountain, without taking this journey, it was hard to understand why it was different, or how.

When he was with his Lord day and night, it was easy to overlook his realm and status. Only when Chen Lingjun walked the paths his Lord had walked did he realize that the reluctant youth from Mud Bottle Alley he had followed had become truly remarkable.

Chen Lingjun gathered his thoughts, packed his luggage, and greeted Song Lanchiao. Then, he left the ferry midway and went to Suijia City, heading straight for the Fire God Temple.

Through the covert efforts of the Dragon Palace Lord of Azure Ripple Lake, the once-ruined Fire God Temple had been rebuilt. The local government had spent lavishly to reconstruct a painted statue of the god, and incense burned vigorously. Chen Lingjun chose a late hour to respectfully knock and visit, meeting the man whose realm seemed unremarkable. Chen Lingjun presented him with many immortal brews, which the man, revealing his true form, greatly enjoyed. However, the man didn’t ask a single question about Chen Ping’an’s current affairs.

Chen Lingjun felt this elder brother was very much to his liking, just like himself, most Jianghu Qi!

So the two drank, needing no encouragement.
The Old Master not only wrote about it in books and records, but also specially instructed Chen Lingjun that this local deity was a friend of his, Chen Ping’an, and owed him a drink.

The Dragon Palace of Cangyun Lake, after receiving a report from the temple priest of the Fire God Temple, the Lake Lord Yin Hou immediately rushed over late at night, without bringing any confidants with him. For a Lake Lord whose entire Suijia City was within his jurisdiction, the distance of eight hundred li was just like taking a few extra steps in his own courtyard.

Seeing the young boy in green robes, with a flushed face and wobbly movements, rambling on, Lake Lord Yin Hou was stunned. How could that Sword Immortal Chen have such a friend?

But the drink was enjoyed by all.

However, the burly man from the Fire God Temple only treated Yin Hou with courtesy after his arrival, but wasn’t particularly enthusiastic, whereas he drank merrily with Chen Lingjun.

At dawn, Chen Lingjun left the Fire God Temple and went to the Golden Crow Palace to visit the sword cultivator at the Golden Core bottleneck, Liu Zhiqing.

He was also treated with great importance, and respectfully escorted to the mountain peak where Liu Zhiqing was cultivating in seclusion.

Chen Lingjun met Liu Zhiqing.

The handsome young man with divine grace, a golden hairpin in his hair, and a snow-white robe, made people feel as if all the famous mountains and rivers in the world were waiting for such cultivators to grace them.

Liu Zhiqing smiled and asked if he wanted to drink tea, but Chen Lingjun declined politely. In fact, there was nothing much for them to talk about, and Liu Zhiqing wasn’t the kind of mountain cultivator who was good at socializing. The host and guest exchanged mostly polite words. When Chen Lingjun ran out of things to say, Liu Zhiqing didn’t press him to stay. Chen Lingjun then got up to take his leave. Liu Zhiqing wanted to escort him to the foot of the mountain, but Chen Lingjun, knowing that he was in seclusion, quickly refused. He hurried down the mountain and left the Golden Crow Palace. As for the Golden Crow Palace Master, who was waiting at the foot of the mountain, Chen Lingjun also declined his banquet, apologizing, thanking him, and making an appointment for next time, all in one go. Chen Lingjun was becoming more and more adept at such social interactions.

After this, he no longer took a celestial ferry to Chunlu Orchard.

Being naturally drawn to water, Chen Lingjun chose an ordinary boat. Within the painting-like scenery, among the sounds of monkeys on both banks, the small boat traveled through thousands of mountains.

Upon arriving at Chunlu Orchard, Chen Lingjun wasn’t in a hurry to chat with Song Lanqiao, whom he already knew well. Instead, according to the map, he first strolled along the mountains and rivers on both sides of the estuary, then went to Chunlu Orchard, toured the Jade Cliffs, and then stayed at the Ant Shop founded by his Old Master. With the acting shopkeeper managing it, business was very good. Chen Lingjun worked as a shop assistant for two days.

On this night, suddenly, a continent was offering up swords in sacrifice.

The entire Chunlu Orchard was instantly lit up. Chen Lingjun quickly opened the shop and looked up. The streets were bustling with people, all saying that a Sword Immortal had fallen at the Great Wall of Sword Qi.

Far away from his hometown by thousands of miles, Chen Lingjun thought of the Old Master, who was even further away from his hometown. He sat on the threshold, propped his chin in his hands, and looked sad.

On the southern battlefield of the Great Wall of Sword Qi, the golden river appeared for the third time.

A young man carried a sword box filled with swords borrowed from the sword workshop.

Chen Ping’an stood on the city wall, gazed at the battlefield for a moment, took a step forward, and his figure plummeted to the ground. During the descent, he rolled up his sleeves. Just as he was about to land, he bent his knees slightly, stepped on the void, and his entire body suddenly surged forward. Behind him, a large pit was suddenly dented into the ground, and muffled thunder rumbled deep beneath the earth.

He didn’t control swords, but controlled the wind.

Like an arrow, he instantly moved hundreds of feet away from the city wall, pressed his hands on the heads of two demon race cultivators, gently pushed, and threw the two corpses with their heads smashed to pieces.

When Chen Ping’an landed gracefully, all the sword cultivators around the battlefield consciously moved away from this area, automatically clearing a path for the young Hidden Official who was entering the fray for the third time.

Now the Great Wall of Sword Qi no longer had any resentment, because the young Hidden Official was originally a sword cultivator, and he was even better at killing.

A demon race cultivator in the military, clad in heavy armor and wielding a halberd, stabbed straight at him. The young Hidden Official moved straight forward, casually smashed the halberd with his head, shattered the opponent’s body with a punch, and when he stepped on the ground with slightly heavier force, the fighting stance had not yet been established, but the fist intent had already erupted.

Within a dozen feet of Chen Ping’an as the center, the flood of fist intent raged. Not only that, but a second, larger circle of fist aura rose again in the distance, surging and stirring. One layer of fighting stance, one layer of divine will, circles inter generating like layers of lunar halos.

The central martial artist was like the sun in the sky.