Having entered the city of Categories, Chen Ping’an was in no hurry to take Pei Qian and Zhou Milly on a tour. First, he took out a yang-qi-attracting lamp talisman made of yellow paper from his sleeve. Then, he made a sword gesture with two fingers, gently stroking around the talisman. Chen Ping’an always concentrated on observing the burning speed of the talisman, silently counting in his heart. When a lamp talisman slowly burned out, he said to Pei Qian, “The concentration of spiritual energy is no different from that on the sea outside the ferry. However, the flow of the River of Time seems to be slightly slower than the outside world. Let’s try not to delay here for too long and leave within a month.”

Pei Qian nodded, understanding. This giant city, a ferry, was likely a broken mountain and river secret realm similar to a minor cave heaven, but refined by an expert, just like Madam Qing Zhong’s Green Water Pit, which had already become a small world.

Chen Ping’an noted that the spiritual energy within Categories City was thin, not a suitable place for Qi refining. Of course, he didn’t rule out the possibility like that of the Myriad Jade Sect or the Three Mountains Blessed Land, where someone or some place had devoured half, or even more, of the spiritual energy and fortune, ultimately turning a small world into something like the sea returning to the void.

Pei Qian looked at the crowds on the street, raising her gaze slightly to look further. The pavilions and towers became clearer the further away they were, which was too unnatural. It seemed that as long as a viewer had the will, they could see all the way to the ends of the earth.

Pei Qian’s gaze eventually fell on a distant high building corridor, where a young woman dressed as a palace maid, in the bright moonlight, tiptoed and raised her arm high, revealing a section of jade-like wrist, hanging up a bamboo lantern. The palace maid suddenly turned her head, her appearance beautiful, and smiled at Pei Qian. Pei Qian wasn’t surprised by this, she just slightly shifted her gaze. Further away, between two towering colorful buildings, there was a corridor bridge, like a rainbow hanging in the sky. In the center of the corridor, stood a silver-eyed youth with deer antlers, his hands clasped together, placed horizontally in front of his chest, his sleeves trailing on the ground, like a so-called Imperial Son in a pavilion from immortal books, looking straight at Pei Qian.

Pei Qian shifted her gaze again, to a magnificent mansion built on a small mountain, with vermilion buildings and jade tiles, carved beams and painted pillars. Among them, there was a woman whose dress had a silk luster like flowing moonlight, wearing a golden crown, leaning lazily against a beauty railing, applying rouge and lightly dabbing her lips. After discovering Pei Qian’s scrutinizing gaze, she seemed startled. The beauty immediately picked up a fan, but was also curious, so she only used an exquisite fan painted with dense flowers to cover half of her face. Looking at Pei Qian, seeing that Pei Qian’s appearance was not outstanding, she lightly raised an eyebrow, the raised eyebrow was playful, but not frivolous, just with a hint of provocation.

Pei Qian immediately retracted her gaze, rubbed her forehead. Just looking at the distance a few more times had caused her to feel a slight dizziness. Pei Qian refocused, choosing closer scenery and pedestrians. At the corner at the end of the street, a patrol of city soldiers appeared. The leader was on horseback, holding a long halberd. Both the man and the horse were armored. The martial general was covered in iron armor, as dense as fish scales. The road was crowded, and packed with people. The armored martial general occasionally raised the long halberd in his hand, gently pushing aside the pedestrians who accidentally bumped into the cavalry, with very skillful force, not hurting anyone.

Pei Qian first roughly told Chen Ping’an what she saw, then whispered, “Master, the people in the city are a bit like the so-called ‘living immortals’ in a ancient book from the Yu family, and are different from the ‘half-dead’ like the Fox Country talisman beauties and the paper figures of the White Paper Blessed Land.”

Talisman puppets were the lowest class, relying on the spirit of the talisman, a fairy’s finishing touch, as support, to open their minds and generate intelligence. They did not have a physical body or soul truly belonging to them.

Chen Ping’an heard of “living immortals” for the first time and was very curious. He asked in a mental voice, “Living immortals? What do you mean?”

Pei Qian was stunned for a moment, looking at her master, because she mistakenly thought that her master was testing her knowledge. After confirming that her master really didn’t know this saying, she explained the records in that obscure book. The most crucial sentence was that the souls of the living were separately imprisoned in the water prison of mirrored text, or in the imprisoned mountain of layered peaks. But the book did not say how to break the spell.

Chen Ping’an nodded. So it was a bit similar to Pu Yu’s natal flying sword, shifting between reality and illusion, only in a single thought? But who in the world, besides Cui Chan and Cui Dongshan, could manifest so many thoughts? And how could they support the “self-talk” and “self-thinking” of so many city residents at the same time? Or were all the local people in Categories City simultaneously using the methods of the White Paper Blessed Land? It was a pity that Cui Dongshan was not by his side, otherwise, this student would probably thrive like a fish in water in this city?

In his early years of travel, whether he was traveling with Lu Tai in Tongye Continent, or encountered the black-clothed scholar in Ghost Domain Valley, Chen Ping’an hoped that the future juniors of the Fallen Mountain would not be as uneducated and suffer as much as he did. He hoped that one day, when they went down the mountain to gain experience, they could rely on the books in their own mountain, be knowledgeable and knowledgeable, and gain some advantages in the search for opportunities, and also avoid unnecessary accidents.

Now it seemed that Pei Qian, the eldest disciple that Chen Ping’an least expected, was the first to achieve this. However, this was of course inseparable from Pei Qian’s excellent memory and fast learning of boxing.

It seemed that there were many “I thought” and “I realized” on the road of life.

Pei Qian squatted down, and Zhou Milly took out a bamboo basket. The little girl in black upheld the Jianghu principle of not revealing wealth, and did not bring the golden small carrying pole, but carried a green bamboo walking stick.

Chen Ping’an and Pei Qian protected Milly in the middle, and walked together into the bustling streets of the city. The pedestrians on the road spoke in a variety of languages, chatting about family matters or other things. Among them, two people walked towards them. Chen Ping’an and the others gave way. The two were arguing about the phrase “The golden scales of armor shine towards the sun”. One person cited classics, saying that it should be “towards the moon”. The other person was red-faced and argued endlessly, suddenly throwing an old fist and knocking the person next to him to the ground. The person who fell to the ground did not get angry after getting up, but turned to arguing about the authenticity of the Rain Post.

Pei Qian whispered, “Master, everyone is speaking the elegant language of Middle Earth Divine Continent.”

Chen Ping’an nodded, “Look and listen more.”

The cavalry team galloped up, both the men and horses were armored, like cutting through thorns. The pedestrians on the street stepped aside. The leading knight slightly raised his long halberd, but the tip of the halberd was still pointing at the ground, so it didn’t appear too condescending or aggressive. The knight said in a deep voice, “Who are you, state your names.”
Chen Ping’an cupped his fist in salute and said, “Cao Mo.”

Pei Qian replied, “Zheng Qian.”

Mimicking them, Xiao Mili said, “Zhou Dumb.”

The cavalry general nodded and reminded, “No brawling, no forced buying or selling, and no unauthorized ascension within the city. Apart from these, there are no other restrictions.”

After the inquiries, with no conflict arising, the cavalry turned their horses and continued to patrol the streets. Arriving at a nearby bookstore, Chen Ping’an noticed that the books for sale were mostly well-printed local chronicles. He flipped through a dozen or so, all old books from ancient dynasties of the Vast Expanse. The book in his hand, “Gazetteer of Tanzhou Prefecture,” meticulously cataloged historical information by dynasty, covering domains, rituals, famous officials, loyal martyrs, literary figures, and military achievements. Many local chronicles also included details about prominent families, memorial arches, water conservancy projects, charitable schools, and ancestral tombs. Chen Ping’an gently stroked the paper, sighed, and decided against buying any. The silver would be wasted because all the books’ paper was a manifestation of some mystical Daoist art, not a real substance.

Otherwise, if the prices were reasonable, Chen Ping’an wouldn’t have minded buying up the place to replenish the book collection at Fallen Phoenix Mountain.

Chen Ping’an kept picking up and putting down books, unable to find any gazetteers related to the Great Li or Great Duan dynasties within the bookstore.

Looking without buying is not something any shop owner would like, but Chen Ping’an had already prepared to be kicked out the door, all to roughly gauge the age of the ferry.

The bookstore owner was a refined, scholarly old man who was reading a book and didn’t mind Chen Ping’an’s browsing damaging the books’ condition. After about the time it takes to burn an incense stick, the incredibly patient old man finally smiled and asked, “Where do you guests come from?”

As soon as Zhou Mili heard the question, she remembered the kindly mountain master’s reminder. The little girl immediately became wary and quickly covered her mouth with her hands.

Chen Ping’an rubbed Xiao Mili’s head and smiled at the owner, answering, “From outside the city.”

“Saying ‘from whence you came’ would also be fine,” the old owner muttered to himself, shaking his head. Seemingly too disappointed with Chen Ping’an’s answer, he stopped speaking.

Chen Ping’an asked with a smile, “Shopkeeper, how many places are there in the city that sell books?”

The old owner replied helplessly, “How would I know? You must be joking, guest.”

A thin scholar in a Confucian robe, sporting a fine beard, strode over the threshold of the bookstore, laughing loudly. Without even looking at Chen Ping’an and his companions, he walked to the counter and said to the old owner, “Those towering peaks must have been formed millennia ago, or even tens of thousands of years ago, by the great flood in the valley, which eroded all the sand and soil, leaving only the massive rocks standing tall, hence their formation into peaks.”

The owner’s eyes lit up. “Scholar Shen’s erudition is impressive! Your ingenious ideas are truly heaven-sent, without a doubt.”

The old owner immediately bent down and retrieved a brush and ink from behind the counter, and a narrow strip of paper from a drawer. He wrote down the words, gently blowing on the ink to dry it, and finally turned around to pull out a book, into which he slipped the paper.

The old owner closed the book on the counter and handed it to the old patron surnamed Shen, who tucked it into his sleeve and laughed as he left. Near the threshold, he suddenly turned around, stroked his beard, and asked, “Young man, do you know how the ‘void accumulation’ technique achieves roundness, and how the ‘obstructing lattice’ technique allows the void to contain sound?”

Chen Ping’an shook his head with a smile. “I do not.”

In truth, Chen Ping’an knew a little bit about it, or else he wouldn’t have borrowed those books from Liu Mao at the Yellow Flower Temple in Mirage City. But in Threaded Eye City, it was best to feign ignorance.

“What’s wrong with the youngsters these days? They know nothing at all,” the bearded scholar, whom the owner addressed as “Scholar Shen,” said with some regret, a look of disappointment on his face. He changed from stroking his beard to tugging at it, as if experiencing a sharp pain, and shook his head and sighed, leaving quickly.

Chen Ping’an led Pei Qian and Xiao Mili out of the bookstore.

Pei Qian whispered, “Master, that Scholar Shen and the book the shopkeeper gave him later, they both seem… real.”

Chen Ping’an raised a finger to his lips, signaling silence, telling her not to talk about it.

Unexpectedly, the bearded scholar had already turned back and was walking toward them, still unwilling to give up. He took out the book the old owner had given him and asked again, “Young man, what year is it in the Grand Evolution Calendar? If you know, I’ll give you this book.”

Chen Ping’an smiled and took out a Minor Heat Coin from his miniature mountain. It was a treasured item. He raised his right hand, palm open, showing the inscription on one side of the deity coin: “Often Envy the Jade Carvers of the Mortal Realm.”

The face of Scholar Shen subtly changed. Chen Ping’an’s left hand flicked the Minor Heat Coin, about to flip it over. The bearded scholar caught a glimpse of the “Su” character on the reverse side, and his heart ached. He turned his head away, waving his hands repeatedly, saying, “Crafty little thief! I’m afraid of you! Go, go, go! Let’s part ways here and never meet again!”

Chen Ping’an put away the deity coin again. Pei Qian blinked. “Master, is that the one who likes to carve ‘Envoy Passed Here’ everywhere?”

Chen Ping’an nodded. “I just don’t know why he stayed here. I thought that old man would become enraged and smash that book in my face.”

Zhou Mili sighed emotionally, “Truly, people’s hearts are hard to fathom, and the world is a dangerous place.”

Chen Ping’an patted Xiao Mili’s head and said with a smile, “The rise and fall of officialdom, the unpredictability of the world, yes, the world is indeed a dangerous place.”

On the street, there was a fortune-telling stall. The old Daoist was skin and bones, and in front of his stall, he drew a semicircle with charcoal, like a half-moon, just enough to encompass the stall. Many children from the neighborhood, who were familiar with the stall, were chasing each other and playing there. The old Daoist heavily slapped the table with his hand, cursing, and the children immediately scattered. When the old Daoist saw Chen Ping’an passing by, he immediately straightened a crooked banner beside him, which read, “To Obtain the Secret of Immortality, First Pass This Immortal Altar.” Suddenly, he cleared his throat and shouted, “Ten thousand taels of gold cannot buy the Dao, but I give it to you on the streets…”

Unexpectedly, the three of them walked past the stall directly, ignoring it completely, even deliberately turning a blind eye. Eventually, they entered a weapon shop next to the stall. The old Daoist retracted his hopeful gaze, sighed, and said with resentment, “Barbarians, barbarians! They do not recognize the Great Dao.”

Next to the fortune-telling stall was a small stall with some old bottles and jars laid out on a cotton cloth. A man was dozing off with his head lowered, looking sickly. The loud shouts of the neighboring old Daoist had not been able to wake him. When the old Daoist turned his head, he suddenly said, “Lazy bum, business is knocking on your door, wake up.” The man suddenly raised his head and realized that there was no one in front of his stall, so he continued to doze. The old Daoist couldn’t stand the man’s laziness and sneered, “Brother Jing, in the old days, you had such a heroic spirit. Now you’ve become a swindler who can’t even make money at your stall.”
The brawny man merely kept his eyes closed, seemingly resting. The old Daoist priest stood up from the bench and kicked over a small, gilded vat nearby, no bigger than a palm. The old priest sneered, “You say it came from the palace? Maybe some simpleton would believe it. You claim this thing is capable of raising a flood dragon? Who’d believe that? Oh my, it’s gilded, but probably not even that, just cheap paint. Look, it’s fading already. Forgive me, forgive me!”

The brawny man had a remarkable temper. He silently bent down, picked up the faded little vat, and placed it back carefully.

The old Daoist kicked it over again.

The brawny man retrieved the object a final time, placing it further away from the Daoist, near a corner of the cotton cloth. He muttered, “The world only knows of the Ancestor riding the Green Ox. Who knows of you? Those who do wouldn’t come here. Yet, you’re here everyday, enduring the bitter wind.”

The old Daoist returned to the bench, sighing deeply. Many of the old neighbors in the city, like the aging elders, were gradually fading away.

But these two stall-neighbors, no matter what, were still here. One, who once rode a Green Ox, traveling the world in search of a true Five Peaks Diagram. The other, who once rode a gaunt, limping old donkey, swaying along. On the donkey’s back was a bearded swordsman, carrying a large bow. The three-foot sword and the six-stone bow, both capable of slaying dragons underwater.

Chen Ping An entered the shop, picked up a sheathed blade, and drew it. The blade was narrow and extremely sharp, with the inscription “Little Eyebrow.” Chen Ping An tapped the blade with his finger. The blade vibrated but remained silent; only the light rippled across the steel like water. Chen Ping An shook his head. The blade was a fine one, and in fact, the only “real blade” in the shop. Chen Ping An was only sorry that the words of the old Daoist and the brawny man from the Package Shop were mumbled and indistinct, hard to understand. This world was truly strange.

The shopkeeper was a burly, strapping man, who chuckled, “Clearly a sword-bearer, yet coming to the shop to pick a blade. How absurd.”

An old man in a green robe was pleading desperately, “That calligraphy scroll from my ancestors, it truly cannot be shown to outsiders. Please, I beg you, sell it to me.”

The brawny man glanced sideways at the old man, not even bothering to respond.

A commotion arose in the street. Chen Ping An sheathed the blade, returned it to its place, and asked the shopkeeper, “How much for this blade?”

The brawny man smiled, “Want to buy the blade? It’s not expensive. All I require is a bowl of Chu Province Sour Plum Drink, half a catty of Tongling White Ginger, and a few tender lotus roots in season from Tang Mountain.”

Chen Ping An smiled and asked, “May I ask where these three items are to be found?”

The brawny man replied, “Elsewhere in the city.”

The commotion in the street grew louder. There were the sounds of horses’ hooves; city patrol guards escorted a man to the outside of the weapon shop. It was a handsome scholar.

The scholar entered the shop, holding a wooden box. Seeing Chen Ping An and the others, he was clearly surprised, but said nothing. He placed the wooden box on the counter, and opened it. Inside were exactly a bowl of Sour Plum Drink, half a catty of White Ginger, and several snow-white lotus roots.

Upon seeing this, the brawny man was almost moved to tears. Without a word, he rounded the counter, said to Chen Ping An, “My apologies,” and took the blade named “Little Eyebrow,” tossing it to the scholar.

The old man who had been begging for the calligraphy scroll said sourly, “City Lord Shao, you’re here again, plundering our land? Wandering through three cities, this seems a little like abusing your power, doesn’t it?”

The scholar immediately hung the blade at his waist. Then, he smiled at the old man, “Even for me, a trip to the Root-Branch City is not easy.”

The man surnamed Shao thought for a moment, and said to the shopkeeper, “Please bring out that wordless scroll. I will add the writing.”

The shopkeeper narrowed his eyes. “Shao Baojuan, are you sure about this? Be careful, lest you lose your hard-earned position as City Lord.”

The scholar only smiled and said nothing. The brawny man produced a scroll, without any words, but fragrant with the scent of flowers. It was stamped with the seal of the “Hall of Diligent Governance.”

Chen Ping An stood aside with his hands in his sleeves, watching the spectacle.

Shao Baojuan, City Lord from another city.

The Sour Plum Drink, White Ginger, and Lotus Root from the Root-Branch City.

This implied that there were at least three cities on the ferry.

The scholar smiled and looked at Chen Ping An.

Chen Ping An immediately smiled back in apology, and turned away.

Shao Baojuan extended a finger and “wrote” on the wordless scroll. The shopkeeper smiled and nodded, putting away the fragrant scroll. Then, he produced another scroll, starting with “My son is by nature dull,” and ending with “Begging to be Canceled with Fire.” The brawny man gave this scroll to the scholar, saying, “Congratulations, City Lord Shao, you have obtained another treasure.”

Shao Baojuan gave the scroll to the old man, gently chanting the word “Fire.” The scroll immediately burst into flames.

The old man was first shocked, then overjoyed. He accepted the burning scroll of “True Fire Illusion” with both hands, as if he had finally fulfilled a wish. When the scroll had completely burned away, he immediately burst into tears, bowing to the young City Lord repeatedly.

The scholar only said that he had long admired the old man’s ancestors and should do this.

The old man lowered his head and wiped away his tears. Then, he took out a small pouch from his sleeve, embroidered with the words “Emerald Green,” and a length of worn, thin rope, about a foot long.

The old man chuckled softly, “This pouch of Snail Ink happens to weigh five bushels. Add this thin rope, and City Lord Shao only lacks the embroidered shoe. Then, he will be able to meet Lady Kongtong.”

Shao Baojuan said “Thank you,” not feigning politeness, and directly placed the pouch and the rope into his sleeve.

The old man was overjoyed and left in haste.

The scholar looked at Chen Ping An and his two companions, then at Pei Qian and Zhou Mili’s walking sticks. Suddenly, he said, “Luzhou of the North, Mural City, Swaying River.”

Chen Ping An thought for a moment, “Lightning Flash, Ghost Valley, Piled Cloud Mountain.”

Shao Baojuan smiled knowingly. “It really is you.”

Chen Ping An laughed. “It turns out it’s you.”

Years ago, during his first journey to the Northern Luzhou, Chen Ping An had crossed the Swaying River, feigning ignorance and foolishness, and declined a chance at immortality.
Behind him, within the mural city, the Inkstone Goddess was most skilled in combat. She quickly and willingly acknowledged a wandering cultivator from another domain as her master. Much later, Chen Ping’an learned from Du Wensi, a Nascent Soul cultivator of the Straw Weaving Sect, who served as a tributary of Fallen Mountain, about a secret record of the Straw Weaving Sect. It revealed that the Thunder Pool on Accumulation Peak within Ghost Valley was once a shattered Sword Cleansing Pool from the Star Dipper Court, a part of one Prefecture, two Institutes, and three Bureaus of the ancient Thunder Department. Later, the master and servant pair who visited Wooden Clothes Mountain, the foreign cultivator from Streaming Glow Continent, together with the Goddess who wore the ancient Inkstone “Lightning Whip” at her waist, obtained the immortal opportunity. In truth, before those two, Chen Ping’an had already encountered the Thunder Pool of Accumulation Peak, but he could not move it, only digging up some “golden bamboo whips.”

Shao Baojuan bid farewell and departed.

Chen Ping’an nodded in acknowledgement.

Leaving the shop, Chen Ping’an heard the old Daoist loudly ask, “Young man, in your hometown, where ten thousand plum blossoms bloom, does even one tree bear flowers?”

Shao Baojuan glanced at the silent Chen Ping’an, then turned and smiled, “Every year, ten thousand trees blossom, nothing rare about it.”

The old Daoist laughed loudly, then with a flick of his toe, sent the gilded small water vat towards Shao Baojuan. The scholar caught it, while the drowsy man squatting on the ground acted as if he knew nothing, completely unconcerned that his stall was missing a treasure.

Pei Qian was confused and whispered, “Master, that old Daoist priest, is he asking you?”

Did it feel like that City Lord Shao Baojuan, came to the Fishscale City, just picking up bargains everywhere?

Chen Ping’an nodded, his eyes narrowed as he smiled, “No rush.”

Pei Qian turned her head and saw that Shao Baojuan had already walked far away, standing beside an old woman selling cakes, neither buying a cake nor leaving, as if waiting for someone.

Soon, a monk carrying a shoulder pole appeared, quite vigorous, his steps rapid, and he angrily said, “We monks, through a thousand tribulations, learn the Buddha’s demeanor, through ten thousand tribulations, learn the Buddha’s subtle actions, yet still cannot attain Buddhahood. The Southern Devil dares to speak of directly pointing at the heart, speaking of seeing one’s nature and becoming a Buddha. We should sweep his dens, extinguish his kind, to repay the Buddha’s grace!”

Chen Ping’an stopped in his tracks, his expression grave.

Passing by the old woman, the monk put down his shoulder pole, seemingly intending to buy a cake.

The old woman pointed at the monk’s shoulder pole placed on the ground, about to ask a question, but Shao Baojuan had already preemptively asked, “What kind of script is this?”

The monk was about to answer.

Seeing that Shao Baojuan was about to speak again, Chen Ping’an frowned and said to the scholar telepathically, “This is originally a Buddhist koan, what are you meddling in?”

Shao Baojuan smiled slightly, turned his head, seemingly waiting for Chen Ping’an’s words, and immediately asked telepathically, “What is the meaning of Bodhidharma’s arrival from the West? Is it a Daoist carrying a leaky cup?”

“Oh?”

The old Daoist at the stall seemed to hear the telepathic conversation, immediately stood up, but only stared at Chen Ping’an.

Chen Ping’an smiled, only looking at the scholar, “Step by step, link by link, truly a good calculation.”