A-Liang stood up and heard the distant sound of a horn from the battlefield, signaling the barbarian armies’ retreat.

Both sides would clean up the battlefield. The next great battle’s end might not require a horn.

A-Liang walked to the Dragon-Slaying Cliff’s pavilion, released the empty wine gourd in his hand, spun around, howled a shout, and kicked the gourd out of the pavilion, where it shattered on the training ground.

The great battle had come to a temporary halt. Suddenly, sword cultivators on the city walls, like migratory birds heading north, returned to their homes one after another, streaks of sword light painting a picturesque scene.

Seclusion, healing, sword refinement, drinking.

The departed were gone, and the sorrows of the survivors would be dissolved in wine bowls, whether in hearty gulps or gentle sips, on the wine table.

A-Liang forgot which grand master had once said at a wine table that a man’s belly was the best wine vat in the world, old stories were the finest mash, and with a touch of bitterness and a blend of joys and sorrows, one could brew the best wine, with endless flavors.

After some contemplation, he slapped his thigh. That grand master was himself!

Being too self-deprecating was bad; he needed to change.

Soon, a group of people returned to the Ning residence from the city walls on their swords. Ning Yao suddenly descended rapidly, landing at the gate, speaking with the old woman.

The others, Chen Sanqiu, Diezhang, Dong Huafu, Yan Zhuo, and Fan Dache, headed straight for the pavilion, landing gracefully and sheathing their swords.

A-Liang leaned against a pavilion pillar, one foot resting on its toe, watching the graceful woman and said with emotion, “Diezhang has grown into a young woman.”

Diezhang smiled and called out, “A-Liang.”

When she was little, Diezhang often squatted with A-Liang in the streets, worrying. The man worried about how to scrape together money for wine, and the little girl worried about when she could buy wine again. Each time she bought wine, she could earn some copper coins and bits of silver as a “runner’s fee.” The “fighting” of the coins in the torn cloth purse, with a few bits of silver added, was the most pleasing sound in the world. Unfortunately, A-Liang had too many debts, and many tavern owners were afraid when they saw her.

Dong Huafu asked, “Where has she grown?”

A-Liang smiled and said, “Ask your mother.”

Dong Huafu chuckled. “A Range of Peaks. My mother says you had impure intentions when you gave Diezhang that name.”

A-Liang sighed. “What nonsense is that? Tell your mother to read fewer romantic novels from the Vast World. Your family’s collection of books supports so many unscrupulous booksellers in South婆娑洲. The engravings are poor, the content is crude, and none of the ten books are worth a second read. And your sister is an unconscionable girl. Why did she tear out so many important pages? To use as toilet paper?”

Dong Huafu was silent. He had a part in that. His sister turned the pages with murderous intent, and he was only responsible for tearing them out. Then his sister secretly bound them into a volume.

Chen Sanqiu kicked off his boots, sat cross-legged, relaxed and at ease, leaning against the railing.

He liked Dong Bude. Dong Bude liked A-Liang, but that wasn’t a reason for Chen Sanqiu to dislike A-Liang.

On the contrary, Chen Sanqiu admired A-Liang’s freedom and was grateful for some of A-Liang’s actions back then.

For example, A-Liang had secretly had a fierce argument with the First Sword Immortal for him, and had scolded the Chen family head, Chen Xi, but never told Chen Sanqiu about it from beginning to end. Chen Sanqiu only learned of the inside story afterward, just as A-Liang had left the Sword Qi Great Wall, wearing a bamboo hat and carrying a bamboo knife, quietly returning to his hometown.

Some sword immortals had high sword skills but were not free. Living between heaven and earth, they were never at ease.

It seemed that A-Liang, who was the freest, always said that true freedom was never about being unburdened.

Fatty Yan was massaging the man’s shoulders and back, asking softly, “A-Liang, A-Liang, how is my swordsmanship now? If I go to the Vast World, can I make the immortals’ hearts flutter like deer? You said that as long as one is a sword immortal, even if their appearance isn’t that handsome, drawing a sword is the best rouge for women. Seeing superb swordsmanship makes them blush. Does that still hold true?”

A-Liang nodded. “It does, how could it not? I’m very familiar with the Vast World. If you have the opportunity to travel there in the future, I’ll give you a map with all the mountains with immortals marked. Don’t be silly and go ask about swordsmanship. Just go to the foot of the mountain, rise on your sword, circle the mountain, perform a set of sword techniques, finish, and leave. During this time, don’t say anything, take out your wine gourd, and leave the immortals a view of your back while drinking, tilting your head back. Then, recite a poem loudly and leave elegantly…”

Yan Zhuo’s head was as big as a winnowing basket. “A-Liang, I can’t recite poetry.”

A-Liang said, “I have it. A volume with over three hundred lines, all tailored for us sword immortals. A friendship price for you?”

Dong Huafu asked, “The poems in the volume have already been worn out by you, right?”

A-Liang was a little embarrassed.

Fan Dache was the most reserved.

He wasn’t familiar with Senior A-Liang.

Even though Senior A-Liang was approachable, he was still high above Fan Dache, close at hand but far away.

It was like many young sword cultivators meeting old sword immortals and great sword immortals like Dong Sangeng and Lu Zhi. Perhaps the seniors wouldn’t look down on the juniors, but the juniors would often involuntarily look down on themselves.

A-Liang smiled and said, “You’re called Fan Dache, right?”

Fan Dache quickly nodded, flattered.

A-Liang said, “Your advancement to the Golden Core Realm is earlier than what the First Sword Immortal and I originally expected.”

Fan Dache couldn’t believe it.

He could catch the eye of Senior A-Liang and the First Sword Immortal?

A-Liang smiled and said, “Actually, the growth of every child is seen by the First Sword Immortal. It’s just that the First Sword Immortal is shy and doesn’t like to be polite with people.”

That was hard to respond to.

After all, he wasn’t the honest Second Shopkeeper.

After Ning Yao separated from Grandma Bai, she walked up the stone path of Dragon-Slaying Cliff. When Ning Yao arrived at the pavilion, A-Liang and the others had already taken their seats.

Ning Yao looked tired and asked, “A-Liang, is he alright?”

“That kid couldn’t sleep soundly, so I knocked him out. He’s snoring like thunder now, much better.”

A-Liang said frankly, “Chen Ping’an will probably find it difficult to fight outside the city again in the short term. You should have stopped him from fighting that last battle. It was too dangerous, and he can’t develop the habit of gambling his life.”

Ning Yao shook her head. “He makes the important decisions. I can’t persuade him.”

A-Liang clicked his tongue in wonder. “Is Ning girl still the Ning girl I know?”

Ning Yao sat down silently, leaning against a pavilion pillar.
She carried a sword box on her back, clad in a snow-white Dharma robe.

Inside the pavilion, they chatted idly.

Mostly, Dong Huafu was inquiring about A-Liang’s deeds in the Azure Vault Heaven. A-Liang, on the other hand, boasted about his prowess there. Defeating the Daoist Second wasn’t much of an achievement, as no clear victor emerged. However, to captivate the Jade Capital with his mere presence, without even drawing his sword, was a feat few could accomplish.

Beneath his carefree words lay unresolved burdens.

Finally, A-Liang offered guidance on swordsmanship to the young cultivators, pinpointing their individual cultivation bottlenecks and obstacles. He then rose to bid farewell, “I’m off to find an acquaintance for a drink. You all should return home as well.”

Ning Yao stood up to watch A-Liang and all her friends depart on their swords.

She walked down Dragon-Slaying Cliff alone, heading to the small dwelling. Gently, she pushed open the door, stepped over the threshold, sat by the bed, and lightly grasped Chen Ping’an’s left hand, which had somehow escaped the covers. It was still trembling slightly, an outward manifestation of his soul quivering and his vital energy yet unsettled. Ning Yao carefully returned Chen Ping’an’s hand to the blanket. She leaned over, wiping the sweat from Chen Ping’an’s forehead, and gently smoothed his slightly furrowed brow with a finger.

Chen Ping’an’s affection pleased Ning Yao greatly.

But Chen Ping’an’s affection for her meant such hardship. Ning Yao felt a surge of self-reproach.

So, just as Chen Ping’an’s brow began to relax in sleep, her own furrowed.

What to do? She couldn’t not love him, nor could she bear him not loving her.

These tender emotions, barely subsiding, resurfaced in her heart.

A-Liang returned directly to the city wall, but not to the thatched hut. Instead, he sat beside Wu Chengpei, who was still diligently refining his sword.

Wu Chengpei gazed at the battlefield. The golden river had been collected by the Three Saints, leaving scattered skirmishes across the land.

His face showed no sign of sorrow, yet he bore unspeakable suffering.

For many newly arrived sword cultivators from afar, the native sword immortals of the Sword Qi Great Wall were, almost without exception, eccentric and difficult to approach.

A-Liang remained silent.

Finally, Wu Chengpei spoke, “Mi Hu said that Zhou Cheng, before his death, uttered, ‘Living is meaningless, so I’ll die and see.’ Tao Wenze said a quick death was a rare relief. I envy them.”

A-Liang said, “Indeed, not everyone can choose how to live, but they can choose how to die. However, I still maintain that a wretched life is better than a noble death.”

Wu Chengpei said, “In the years you were gone, all the sword cultivators from afar, whether alive or dead, regardless of their cultivation level, impressed everyone. I no longer harbor any resentment towards the Radiant Land.”

A-Liang took out a flask of immortal wine, broke the seal, and gently swirled it. The aroma of wine wafted, and he lowered his head to inhale deeply, laughing, “Another autumn passes in the wine, the flavor surpassing the fragrance of osmanthus year after year. The wines of both the Radiant Land and the Azure Vault Heaven truly pale in comparison to those of the Sword Qi Great Wall.”

Wu Chengpei suddenly asked, “A-Liang, have you ever truly loved a woman?”

A-Liang thought for a moment, and just as he was about to speak, Wu Chengpei shook his head, “Never mind. Asking this question was already a regret. I imagine I’d regret the answer even more.”

A-Liang smiled, “Walking the path of Jianghu without a touch of romance? What’s the point of drinking wine? Look at those sentimental fools, every last one of them is a drunkard soaked in a vat of liquor. In the game of love, everyone is a coward.”

Wu Chengpei was somewhat surprised. This damned A-Liang was actually speaking a few serious, unadulterated words.

Lu Zhi made a rare appearance, sitting on the other side of Wu Chengpei.

A-Liang tossed the flask over, only to have Lu Zhi slap it back. A-Liang caught the flask, complaining, “Why are you being so polite with your big brother A-Liang? It’s just a flask of wine.”

Lu Zhi raised her arm.

A-Liang sighed, taking out a new flask of wine and throwing it over, “A heroic woman shouldn’t be so particular about trivial matters.”

After taking a drink, Lu Zhi asked, “I heard the Azure Vault Heaven has a lineage of Daoist sword immortals with a long history. What is their swordsmanship like? How does it compare to the Grand Celestial Master of Dragon Tiger Mountain?”

A-Liang rubbed his chin, “Are you referring to the Sect Leader Sun of the Great Profound Capital Temple? I haven’t crossed paths with him, which is a bit of a shame. The Daoist nuns of the Great Profound Capital Temple… or rather, the peach orchard of the temple, are a sight to behold, whether there are people present or not. As for the Grand Celestial Master of Dragon Tiger Mountain, I’m quite familiar with him. Those yellow and purple nobles of the Celestial Master’s Residence are always particularly warm and welcoming when hosting guests, putting on quite a show.”

Meeting without a word, first come a thunderbolt, of course very warm.

A-Liang moved Wu Chengpei’s head aside and smiled at Lu Zhi, “If you’re interested in visiting the Celestial Master’s Residence, you can announce my name beforehand.”

Lu Zhi sneered, “Announce your name? Wouldn’t that be equivalent to challenging Dragon Tiger Mountain with a sword?”

A-Liang laughed loudly, “Of all the people at the Sword Qi Great Wall, Lu Zhi knows me best!”

Wu Chengpei said, “You two, I’m refining my sword. Go drink and chat somewhere else.”

Lu Zhi said, “If your heart dies before your body, you won’t refine a good sword.”

Wu Chengpei said, “I appreciate your concern. I only know that even if the flying sword ‘Sweet Dew’ is never refined again, it will still be among the top three in the highest grade. Lu Great Sword Immortal’s natal flying sword is only in the second grade. The Summer Palace’s top-secret records clearly state that.”

Lu Zhi said, “Wait until I finish my wine.”

Wu Chengpei said, “Please drink faster.”

Sword Immortal Wu Chengpei wasn’t skilled in one-on-one combat, but he was famous at the Sword Qi Great Wall for fearing no one. A-Liang had suffered quite a bit at Wu Chengpei’s hands back in the day.

Wu Chengpei’s casual remark had caused A-Liang to drink his sorrows away for half a year.

“You, A-Liang, are of high realm, great background, and immortal, so why are you showing off to me?”

What’s troubling is never entirely unreasonable words, but words that sound somewhat reasonable yet aren’t quite.

At this moment, A-Liang waved his hand and shouted towards two old sword cultivators sitting on the north and south city walls not far away, “Setting up the stakes! Cheng Quan, Zhao Gezhi, place your bets, place your bets!”

Lu Zhi, however, had already stood up, threw the wine flask outside the city wall, and departed on her sword.

After Lu Zhi left, A-Liang said, “Lu Zhi used to treat everyone like an outsider, but she’s changed a lot now. She rarely speaks heartfelt words to you. Why don’t you appreciate it?”

Wu Chengpei looked dazed and said, “Heartfelt words are even more painful to hear.”

A-Liang nodded, “You’re right.”

Wu Chengpei said, “You know about Xiao Xun’s matter, right?”

A-Liang leaned back, pillowing his head on his hands, and crossed his legs, “Everyone has their own ambitions.”
Wu Chengpei suddenly spoke, “About the events of that year, I neither offered thanks nor apology. Today, I’ll make amends for both. My apologies, and thank you.”

A’Liang retorted, “In other realms beyond this world, sword cultivators with our level of swordsmanship and even better looks are quite sought after.”

Wu Chengpei was indeed a handsome man, often mentioned alongside Mi Yu as the “Twin Jewels” in the conversations of many women from other lands.

One was deeply infatuated, the other a philanderer.

Having personally witnessed the demeanor and appearance of these two Jade Purity Realm sword cultivators, those women who had traveled far and wide felt their journey was worthwhile. They finally realized that men could also possess such beauty, that the word “beauty” wasn’t solely reserved for women.

Wu Chengpei rested his sword across his lap, gazing into the distance, and softly said, “Walk until the water ends, then sit and watch the clouds rise.”

Wu Chengpei then inquired, “To ‘sit and watch the mountain clouds rise,’ adding the word ‘mountain’ to echo ‘water’, would that be better?”

A’Liang casually replied, “No, more words mean less meaning.”

Wu Chengpei pondered for a moment, then nodded. “Makes sense.”

A’Liang chuckled, “Since when did you become so fond of elegance?”

Wu Chengpei answered, “Having nothing better to do, I browsed through the ‘Bi Jian Xian Yin Pu’ (Register of Two Hundred Sword Immortals), quite interesting.”

A’Liang was puzzled. “What in the world is that?”

Wu Chengpei smiled. “Don’t recognize the character ‘bi’ (皕)? How did you become a scholar? Didn’t your father die of anger because of you?”

A’Liang grinned. “Your father is about to be driven to his death by you.”

Wu Chengpei stretched languidly, a smile on his face, and slowly recited, “A gentleman’s heart is like a clear blue sky, a tranquil mirror in autumn. A gentleman’s friendship is one of shared paths if aligned, and no ill words if parted. A gentleman’s conduct is like wild grass and morning dew, pleasing in arrival, lovely in departure.”

A’Liang was taken aback. “Did I say that?”

Wu Chengpei smiled. “A scholar said it.”

When Chen Ping’an regained consciousness, he could walk without hindrance. Learning that the barbaric tribes had ceased their siege didn’t ease his worries much.

Unable to find Ning Yao, and with Granny Bai teaching boxing at the Hibernation Palace, Chen Ping’an flew on his sword to the Summer Palace, only to find A’Liang sitting on the doorstep, chatting with Chou Miao.

Chou Miao, Dong Budé, and the other local sword cultivators were very familiar with A’Liang. However, the sword cultivators from other lands, like Lin Junbi, only knew A’Liang as a name. Everyone had heard of him, but no one had seen him.

A’Liang had spent over a century in the Great Wall of Sword Qi. For the younger cultivators in the vast world, A’Liang was only a figure of transmitted legends.

Jiang Shangzhen in the Northern Entirety Continent had many tales, but A’Liang, who had traveled across three realms, had even more.

Because the two landscape paintings unfurled at the Summer Palace couldn’t reach the battlefield south of the Golden River, none of the sword cultivators of the Hidden Official lineage had personally witnessed A’Liang’s two sword strikes. They could only imagine his splendor through the compiled intelligence. As a result, young sword cultivators like Lin Junbi and Cao Gun were even more reserved than Fan Dache when they saw A’Liang in person.

Song Gaoyuan from the Fufeng Continent was even more excited, his face flushed red, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak.

Song Gaoyuan had known since childhood that his lineage’s female founder was deeply enamored with A’Liang. Back then, Song Gaoyuan, taking advantage of his young age, asked many sensitive questions. The female founder told the child many old stories. Song Gaoyuan remembered vividly that whenever the female founder spoke of A’Liang, she was both resentful, annoyed, and shy, leaving the young Song Gaoyuan confused. He only later realized that such an expression was only shown when a woman truly loved someone.

Guo Zhujiu squatted by the doorstep, her cheeks resting in her hands, staring intently at A’Liang.

She was too young and had never seen A’Liang before.

She would make up for it by looking at him more today.

Guo Zhujiu occasionally turned her head to glance at the old maiden, then glanced at Deng Liang, who liked the old maiden.

A’Liang felt a little uneasy being stared at by this little girl who never forgot her bamboo basket.

The young girls of the Great Wall of Sword Qi were not to be trifled with.

Occasionally, their eyes met, and the little girl would immediately grin. A’Liang, uncharacteristically, felt a little embarrassed and had to smile along with the little girl.

It inexplicably reminded A’Liang of that little rascal Li Huai, the epitome of the simple and honest customs of the small town.

Guo Zhujiu saw Chen Ping’an and immediately jumped up and ran to his side, suddenly looking worried and hesitant to speak.

Chen Ping’an smiled. “It’s okay, just slowly heal your injuries.”

Guo Zhujiu nodded vigorously, then pointed to the doorstep with her finger and whispered, “Master! A live, a live A’Liang!”

Chen Ping’an ruffled the little girl’s hair. “Did you forget? I’ve known Senior A’Liang for a long time.”

A’Liang gave a thumbs up and smiled. “You took in a good disciple.”

Guo Zhujiu returned the favor, giving a thumbs up. Perhaps feeling that the etiquette was not enough, she extended another thumb. “My master met a good senior.”

A’Liang also extended another thumb. “The little girl has good eyes.”

Guo Zhujiu maintained the pose. “Sister Dong has good taste!”

A’Liang said, “Sword Immortal Guo has good fortune.”

Guo Zhujiu was about to continue speaking when she received a flick on the forehead from her master and had to retract her hands. “Senior, you win.”

Finally, Guo Zhujiu swaggered into the house.

Chen Ping’an and A’Liang sat on the doorstep, one on the left and one on the right.

Two swordsmen, two scholars, began to drink together.