He kept speaking, and then blurted out, “My family’s junior is unbearably unruly, only managing to get second place in the imperial exams, a future of mediocrity and incompetence…”

As for these matters…

Whether Chen Ping’an, as the master, or Jiang Shangzhen, as an outsider, chooses to tell Pei Qian about them now is actually insignificant. Pei Qian will undoubtedly understand, but it’s better for her to come to these realizations herself in the future.

Because on Fallen Mountain and its sub-sect, it will soon be the turn for a large group of children to grow, and for certain young people to rise rapidly.

Before leaving Celestial Peak, Jiang Shangzhen pulled aside the uneasy Old Immortal Lu for a private chat, saying, among other things, “Having a Lu Yong in Tongye Continent is equivalent to adding an unshakeable sect in the minds of the cultivators of the Grand Azure World.” These seemingly polite words from Jiang Shangzhen nearly brought the old Nascent Soul cultivator, who almost died in a foreign land, to tears, as if he had taken a big gulp of strong liquor in his youth.

As agreed, the cloud-borne ferry slowly headed towards the southeast of Treasure Bottle Continent. Jiang Shangzhen handed Chen Ping’an a token that controlled the ferry’s grand formation. Jiang Shangzhen had previously relied on this to quickly reach Mirage City, but this method was quite expensive, requiring a large expenditure of Valley Rain money. Chen Ping’an had no intention of accepting it, but Jiang Shangzhen casually tossed the ferry out, allowing Chen Ping’an to seize it in his hand. Then, with Jiang Shangzhen and Pei Qian protecting the ferry and all the children, Chen Ping’an, wearing a bamboo hat, carrying a sword on his back, and with the Sword Nourishing Gourd at his waist, took a deep breath and headed alone towards Colorful Garment Country on the wind.

A return to familiar lands.

The first time was filled with Yin energy, like a deserted ghost realm. The second time, it had become a land of scenic beauty, with no trace of evil energy. This time, however, the spiritual energy of the mountains and rivers seemed much thinner. Fortunately, the familiar old house was still there, with the two stone lions still guarding the gate, the spring festival couplets still hanging, and two colorful door gods still pasted on the doors.

In this sunset dusk, Chen Ping’an adjusted his bamboo hat, raised his hand, paused for a long time, and then gently knocked on the door.

The one who opened the door was not the familiar old nanny, but Yang Huang, with his wife by his side.

Chen Ping’an raised his hand to press down on his bamboo hat.

Yang Huang was about to speak when his wife immediately grabbed his sleeve, preventing him from saying anything.

Chen Ping’an quickly took off his bamboo hat and smiled, “Brother Yang, Sister-in-law, long time no see.”

Entering the house, Chen Ping’an naturally closed the door and, turning around, said softly, “I’ve been away on a long journey these past years, very far. Just returned.”

Yang Huang sighed and nodded, “No wonder.”

His wife, Yingying, a ghost of a ghost, stomped heavily on her husband’s foot, regretting that he spoke instead of remaining silent.

Yingying smiled, “I’ll get some wine. You two can drink first, and I’ll cook a few side dishes for you.”

Chen Ping’an smiled, “If you don’t mind, I can cook. My cooking skills are quite decent.”

Yang Huang laughed loudly, “What kind of logic is that? Don’t you trust your sister-in-law’s cooking?”

Yingying stealthily stomped on his foot again, this time twisting her heel. Yang Huang knew he had said the wrong thing again.

An outsider, a stand-in ghost, and a female ghost, the three hosts and guests went to the kitchen. Chen Ping’an knew his way around, starting a fire on the familiar small stool, using the familiar blowpipe. Yingying went to fetch several jars of homemade wine that had been aged for a year or more. Yang Huang felt awkward drinking before Chen Ping’an, and, with nothing else to do, stood by the kitchen door, not knowing how to speak after being stepped on by his wife twice.

Chen Ping’an sat on the small stool, holding the blowpipe, and turned to ask, “Brother Yang, when did Old Nanny pass away?”

Yang Huang said, “It’s been several years. But thankfully, she had no regrets except for missing you and wondering why you never came. Before she left, she told Yingying and me not to forget to brew wine every year, in case you came one day and didn’t have enough to drink.”

Chen Ping’an said, “Then I’ll take more wine with me when I leave.”

Yang Huang hesitated, “Don’t overthink it. Everything’s fine.”

Chen Ping’an nodded, then suddenly stood up and said apologetically, “Let Sister-in-law cook. I’ll go burn incense at Old Nanny’s grave.”

The small grave was not too far or too close to the house. The old woman had said that if it was too far, she would be unwilling. If it was too close, it would be taboo.

At the lonely grave, Chen Ping’an offered three sticks of incense. Only today, upon seeing the tombstone, did he learn Old Nanny’s name, neither particularly good nor bad.

Yang Huang was still a little worried…