The group walked towards Yuanyang Shore Ferry, intending to broaden their horizons at the Parcel Shop on Parrot Isle.

Chen Ping’an, Li Baoping, Li Huai, the Young Daoist, plus an outsider, now listed on the Dragon Elephant Sword Sect’s Landscape Register, the Rosy-Cheeked Matron. And Liu Chicheng, the most outsider-like yet the least who treated himself as one, was secretly discussing with the Young Daoist which rascals at the ferries were worth scolding and beating.

Chen Ping’an had just imparted secret strategies to the Maiden Flower Goddess, without intentionally avoiding the Rosy-Cheeked Matron. She heard everything clearly.

The Rosy-Cheeked Matron was still somewhat worried, “Are you truly comfortable letting Ruifeng go to meet Zhang Wenqian alone? Are you not afraid she’ll say the wrong thing and ruin everything? That Plump Immortal is notoriously difficult to deal with. Why doesn’t the Hidden Official go himself? Wouldn’t that be more secure?”

Perhaps you, this Hidden Official of always seeking profit and earning a fortune for your efforts, could even use the opportunity to establish connections with that Plump Immortal, and then further associate with Su Zi.

However, the Rosy-Cheeked Matron naturally dared not voice the last sentence.

Zhang Wenqian, one of the Four Scholars under Su Zi, was called the “Plump Immortal” due to his imposing appearance and unusually large stature.

Chen Ping’an smiled, “It’s just a few words anyway. What could the Balsam Flower Goddess say wrong?”

That would be greatly underestimating a Flower Goddess of a Hundred Flowers Blessed Land.

Moreover, at the end of their previous chat, Chen Ping’an had comforted the Flower Goddess with a somewhat unorthodox argument, telling her that she would definitely be nervous upon meeting Master Zhang, but there was no need to worry. Because Master Zhang knew she would be nervous, and her nervousness was due to sincerity, which was a good thing. So being nervous was fine, even if her voice trembled, she shouldn’t be afraid. Just go ahead and be nervous, and if she was too nervous to speak, she should just continue being nervous and not rush to say anything.

After hearing the Azure-Clad Sword Immortal’s words, the Balsam Flower Goddess visibly relaxed. If even being nervous wasn’t a problem, what else was there to fear?

The Rosy-Cheeked Matron asked, “Chen Ping’an, why are you willing to help with such a big favor?”

Chen Ping’an said, “Actually, it’s not helping you. The kind of person the Rosy-Cheeked Matron is will influence how outsiders perceive Lu Zhi.”

The Rosy-Cheeked Matron felt somewhat relieved. Since it wasn’t helping her, she wouldn’t be in his debt.

Chen Ping’an chuckled, “To be honest, I’m surprised you were willing to ask me for this favor.”

The Rosy-Cheeked Matron turned to look at the young Hidden Official. She was actually more surprised that Chen Ping’an would say such a thing. Did he seem to regard her as one of his own?

Upon further thought, she immediately became anxious again. Circling back, was he still helping her after all?

Chen Ping’an said helplessly, “All these years, you’ve been paranoid, always thinking I have ulterior motives.”

The Rosy-Cheeked Matron smiled awkwardly and said, “No, nothing like that. How dare I misunderstand the Hidden Official.”

Chen Ping’an said, “Rosy-Cheeked Matron, think about it yourself. If I solemnly swore to you that I no longer had any designs on the Plum Blossom Garden, and that my actions back then were a matter of duty, unavoidable. And that after you and I returned to our respective homes, even if we weren’t friends, we were definitely not enemies. Would you be willing to believe me, or would you be even more suspicious of my intentions?”

The Rosy-Cheeked Matron smiled and narrowed her eyes, carefully considering the matter before nodding, “That’s right. That’s really how it is.”

Liu Chicheng was very well-behaved today, merely pretending not to recognize the Rosy-Cheeked Matron, who had a great relationship with Hundred Flowers Blessed Land.

Otherwise, with his temperament, dressed in a pink Daoist robe, he would have already been a butterfly fluttering around Sister Rosy-Cheeked.

Because he had once summarized a golden rule in Treasure Bottle Continent that was worth more than a thousand or ten thousand gold.

Never provoke anyone related to the lineage of the Sage of Literature, or any child from Lilac Pearl Grotto.

First Chen Ping’an, then Li Liu from Hielong Stone, only half counted, and then Li Baoping outside Qingfeng City, plus his half-disciple Gu Can?

That made exactly three. Things shouldn’t happen more than three times, he needed to learn his lesson.

Liu Chicheng had already made a pact with his young Daoist friend. They would go to the Wild Desolate World together. The skies were vast there, and they could roam freely. Who could restrain them? Who would dare to stand in their way? It was the perfect opportunity for the two brothers to make a name for themselves.

Li Huai craned his neck, curious.

He wondered what the relationship between Chen Ping’an and her was.

As for the one in the pink robe, he could tell at a glance that he was not to be trifled with. He heard that he was the Lord of the Glazed Pavilion of White Emperor City. Li Huai felt intimidated just hearing “White Emperor City” and “Pavilion Lord”.

After all, a friend of a friend was not necessarily Li Huai’s friend. Since he wasn’t in his own territory, what was the point of being arrogant? That Water-Drifting guy from Nine Truth Immortal Hall was a lesson.

Li Huai was even more unaware that at this moment, in the Temple of Literature, several Worthies were discussing him, holding a small-scale meeting specifically about him.

A Director of Studies from the Academy within the Temple of Literature first discussed with the Sacrificial Wine, then tentatively said to Old Master Han, “Why don’t we give Li Huai the title of Sage?”

This Director of Studies had earlier obtained a copy of the academy archives from the clerk Xiping, detailing the resume of the Confucian scholar Li Huai from Cliffside Academy, along with comments from various instructors and the Academy Lord.

Even the always meticulous Old Master Han, the Deputy Master of the Temple of Literature, hesitated, clearly leaning towards granting the title, but giving it might easily cause controversy, and would certainly add some burden to Li Huai’s future studies and travels.

It wasn’t that the Temple of Literature didn’t value the title of Sage, or that they were willing to give it out casually.

In fact, the issuance of the title of Sage in the academy has always been screened by the academies of each continent themselves. The Temple of Literature almost never interfered with the verification and assessment of Sages.

Academies are in charge of Sages, and the Temple of Literature is in charge of Gentlemen, which is a precedent personally set by the Sage of Rites.

It’s just that this kid’s contribution was too great. Turning around the position of a fourteenth-realm old blind man was equivalent to one positive and one negative, helping the Magnificent Azure World gain two more stretches of Hundred Thousand Mountains.

Judging by the situation, as long as his disciple was willing to speak, seven or eight hundred Golden Armor Puppets within the Hundred Thousand Mountains could march in a grand manner towards the Wild Desolate World with a single command?

Furthermore, according to the information in the files, although Li Huai’s scholarship was “lacking”, he was “diligent in his studies, without any slackness, and possessed a gentle temperament, free of arrogance and impatience”.

And just looking at the handwriting, one could tell it was the personal writing of Mao Xiaodong, Director of Studies of the Hall of Rites and Records.

For Confucian disciples, the attitude towards learning is actually very important.

As for the level of academic achievement or the results of the imperial examinations, it really still depends on whether the Ancestor is willing to bless them.
Master Han turned to the Literary Temple Preceptor beside him, and Elder Dong chuckled, “Not a big deal, I think it’s feasible.”

Master Han then inquired of the scripture scholar, Xi Ping, sitting outside the gate, who replied, “At Mandarin Duck Isle, Li Huai possesses a clear and unclouded mind. It’s quite rare.”

And so it was decided.

Li Huai was now a confirmed sage of the academy.

Such matters were hardly worth troubling the three principal saints, including the Sage of Rites, were they? Besides, that old scholar was Li Huai’s literary ancestor. In the art of protecting one’s own, the Literary Sage could be considered a peerless cultivator of the fifteenth realm.

Li Huai, who was currently sailing towards Parrot Isle, was certainly unaware that he was about to become a sage of the academy.

A thing he wouldn’t even dare dream of.

The tiny Parrot Isle was teeming with people, utterly packed. Because the old patriarch of the Parcel House had personally opened a branch there, it was, of course, no ordinary affair. Even the wife of the Wealth God of Jade White Isle, accompanied by a bevy of her distinguished companions, had appeared in a grand entrance on Parrot Isle. With her presence, it wasn’t just spending money, but showering it.

The local ferries at the wharf were rather simple, as they only needed to shuttle between the various landings, requiring no great size.

True cultivators who wished to visit friends would either travel by the wind or possess their own ferry.

The group stood beside the railing, gazing at the mountains and rivers below, with only the Literary Temple shrouded in mist.

It was unlikely that any Ascendant Realm expert would dare to use their “Palm View of Mountains and Rivers” to pry into the landscape there.

Li Bao Ping softly asked, “Is Little Martial Uncle deep in thought?”

Chen Ping An smiled, “Little Martial Uncle has already succeeded at Turtle Head Mountain. He’s standing in the street, preparing to engage in a shouting match.”

In their hometown, any child with a bit of aptitude was skilled in this area, as the streets and alleys, filled with the sounds of roosters and dogs, offered ample opportunities to “spar,” and to “learn the art” through imitation.

Unfortunately, Jiang Longxiang, the old scholar from Shao Yuan Dynasty, who was renowned as the “Patron of Literature, Hidden Immortal,” had been thrown to the ground. His clothes were disheveled, his hair a mess. He sat there, enduring the pain, gritting his teeth, filled with resentment, yet uttering not a word.

Even if that person asked him to curse again, Jiang Longxiang would simply wait silently for reinforcements from Turtle Head Mountain. Where there’s life, there’s hope. A scholar shouldn’t engage in petty squabbles or vulgar brawls. It would only bring disgrace and was unbecoming of a scholar.

Besides, the Literary Temple, the Xi Ping Stone Classics, and the Forest of Merit were nearby.

Jiang Longxiang wasn’t truly afraid of a mountain cultivator seeking revenge without reason.

He would simply sit there quietly for a while.

Jiang Longxiang suspected that the old scholar whose statue had been smashed was enjoying a stroke of good fortune. Perhaps he would even return to the Literary Temple as a co-worshipped figure.

It didn’t matter. If the old scholar became a Literary Sage again, he would be even less inclined to bicker with him. If he truly dared to act that way, Jiang Longxiang wouldn’t be afraid in the slightest, he would even welcome it.

The young man in the green robe before him was blameless, and therefore was likely not acting out of malice. He likely guessed that the old scholar was on the verge of gaining power and wanted to earn some fame without spending any money, hoping to latch onto the Literary Sage’s lineage?

The person Jiang Longxiang truly feared wasn’t the Literary Sage, but Zuo You, who had spent a century at sea seeking immortals and had also walked the Sword Qi Great Wall. He feared that this sword immortal wouldn’t abide by the principles of scholars.

Zuo You only knew how to practice swordsmanship and how to strike with his sword, understanding nothing of the ways of the sages.

Chen Ping An patiently waited for a moment. Seeing that Jiang Longxiang refused to open his mouth, he took a step forward and kicked the man in the face.

Jiang Longxiang slid backward, crashing into the wall, feeling a sharp pain as if his bones were about to break. Covering his mouth, he looked down and saw his hands covered in blood, and two teeth had fallen out. The old scholar’s eyes glazed over, both frightened and in pain, and he wailed, “Someone’s attacking! He’s trying to kill me!”

Chen Ping An raised his eyebrows slightly. Someone from Turtle Head Mountain was coming.

Most likely, some mountain immortals with a good relationship with the Shao Yuan Dynasty and personal connections with Jiang Longxiang were coming to speak a few words of reason.

It was said that on the border of the Great Li Dynasty in Jade Bottle Continent, the border iron cavalry had a saying: to know if a scholar had integrity, just give him a knife.

Three Qi Refinement practitioners floated down together, and one of the elder cultivators was about to speak.

But the sword immortal in the green robe, who had engaged in a great fight on Mandarin Duck Isle, was arrogantly ignoring them completely. He simply smiled at Jiang Longxiang and said, “Stop shouting. With so many people watching, you might follow in the footsteps of Li Qingzhu. After a difficult journey to the Literary Temple, you end up not earning any mountain incense but instead gaining a resounding nickname. First, there was Li Water Drifter, now there’s Jiang Door God. Otherwise, do you think my kick would have been perfectly measured, just enough to knock out the two teeth on either side of your front teeth?”

Among the three, one frowned and said, “Sword Immortal, if there are grudges from the mountains, right and wrong, just explain it clearly in this important place of the Literary Temple. Is it necessary to be so aggressive? How can a mountain sword immortal bully a Qi Refinement practitioner of the middle fifth realm?”

Another pure martial artist of the Distant Wanderer Realm landed with a thud, standing between the sword immortal in green and Jiang Longxiang.

Chen Ping An asked with a smile, “Shao Yuan Dynasty, Grandmaster Tong Jing?”

The peak of the Distant Wanderer Realm.

Northern Ju Lu Continent’s Jade Forest Sect, Central Earth’s Shao Yuan Dynasty, Jade White Continent’s Liu Family.

Chen Ping An was quite interested in them at the Bixia Palace, especially how the Liu Family made money, how they were so skilled at generating wealth, giving away an upside-down mountain Ape Ruins Residence to the Sword Qi Great Wall without batting an eye. As for the other two, he couldn’t say he had any good impressions. Chen Ping An actually knew quite a lot about Jiang Longxiang and wasn’t unfamiliar with him at all, some from Lin Junbi’s casual chats, some from trivial mountain and water gazettes. Among them was Tong Jing, Jiang Longxiang’s friend in the martial world.

The man named Tong Jing smiled and said, “What, the Sword Immortal has heard of my name? So, will you ask about swordsmanship, or will I ask about fists?”

Anyway, no one could die here.

Exchange a few punches, take a few sword strikes, and save Jiang Longxiang, this leader of the literary world. This deal was definitely worth it.

Chen Ping An smiled, “You can ask about fists, I just fear you won’t find an answer.”
A surge of potent fist intent erupted from Tong Jing, his aura escalating as he adopted a combat stance. He was truly making no compromises; could it be he was truly allowing this Qing Shan sword immortal to strike first? Moreover, earlier at Turtlehead Mountain, while observing the commotion, this Qing Shan sword immortal seemed to have a diverse cultivation path, even proficient in fist techniques?

As it turned out, Tong Jing’s punch was indeed delivered, closing the distance. However, he then halted, stubbornly refusing to throw a second punch.

The two were face to face, the Qing Shan figure with sleeves folded, standing with a smile. Tong Jing maintained his stance, his fist still a foot away from the other.

Tong Jing remained unmoving as a mountain, his expression calm, save for his broken arm.

What domineering fist energy, like divine protection!

Was he truly a Peak Realm cultivator?!

Nonsense, he was definitely beyond the Peak Realm. Upon returning to Turtlehead Mountain, he would have to discuss this with his friends. This senior was undoubtedly a Boundary Realm martial artist.

Chen Ping An smiled, reminding him, “The fist exchange is over, return the courtesy with a cupped fist salute.”

Tong Jing felt this senior was truly considerate; this was indeed a feasible solution.

It was just a shame the senior didn’t use sound transmission; a slight imperfection.

Withdrawing his most peak and devoted punch of his life, his arm limp, but just grasped by his other hand, Tong Jing clasped his fists and said in a deep voice, “I concede. My skills are inferior, and I will not speak another word!”

The sword immortal smiled and gently inclined his head, signaling the pure martial artist to move aside.

Tong Jing strode away.

Chen Ping An turned to the three Qi refiners, “Tong Jing has already spoken his reason. What do you have to say? In any case, today’s reason can be found in fists, swords, spells, talismans, divine powers, backers, sects, and masters. It’s all up to you. Verbal reasoning was given to Jiang Longxiang, the reasoning of fists was given to Tong Jing. There are a few other options, feel free to choose.”

The three Qi refiners were amused and infuriated, momentarily speechless, only to hear the Qing Shan sword immortal say with a smile, “I am not an unreasonable person.”

The three had come only to protect Jiang Longxiang, ensuring his safety and minimizing his suffering.

They definitely couldn’t win in a fight; the opponent could go toe-to-toe with the immortal Yun Miao.

And that Ascension Realm fellow calling himself “Tender Taoist” had made Nan Guangzhao a laughingstock. He was obviously a friend of this Qing Shan sword immortal, perhaps even a senior from the same sect.

One of the old cultivators suddenly pinched a golden light arriving from Turtlehead Mountain, a secret letter personally sent by his ancestral master.

The old cultivator’s face paled, and he bowed with cupped hands to the Qing Shan figure, “We are deeply sorry for the offense. We will leave immediately!”

The other two were bewildered, but the old cultivator reached out, gripping each of them with great force, telepathically saying, “Listen to me, leave this place at once!”

The ancestral master’s secret letter contained only two sentences.

Zheng Juzhong went out to meet this person, and they toured Wenjin Ferry together.

Seeking death is your own business, but remember not to involve the sect.

Chen Ping An did not stop the three from leaving by riding the wind. They came swiftly and left even more hastily.

Jiang Longxiang was dumbfounded, his expression blank, leaning against the wall.

Chen Ping An squatted down, raised his sleeve, and produced a handful of pebbles he had picked up along the way, gently tossing them at the scholar, one by one.

Deliberations inside the Confucian Temple, drinking outside the gate, neither interfering with the other.

Lu Zhi said, “Don’t drag me into such deliberations next time.”

Even in front of Disciple of Classics Xi Ping, Lu Zhi spoke directly as always.

Ah Liang said, “Unlike the Sword Qi Great Wall, people’s hearts are divided. A closed-door deliberation, seemingly long-winded and tedious, is actually beneficial. Because when the door finally opens, and everyone departs, there will be fewer forks in the road beneath our feet.”

Disciple of Classics Xi Ping smiled knowingly.

Ah Liang said with a cheeky grin, “Brother Xi Ping, did I sound like a sage?”

Xi Ping said, “Without the last sentence, it would have. That sentence ruined it.”

Ah Liang automatically ignored the latter sentence, gently shaking his wine flask, saying, “Lu Zhi, you will be very popular here in the future.”

Lu Zhi said, “Because I draw my sword without thinking?”

Ah Liang laughed, “How could that be?”

Lu Zhi stretched out her legs, tilting her head back and drinking.

Ah Liang also tried to stretch out his legs, only to find he was a step shorter than Sister Lu, so he immediately retracted them, simply sitting cross-legged.

Sitting, his height wasn’t obvious. Stretching his legs revealed his shortness. It hurt his feelings.

Lu Zhi always drank generously, quickly finishing a flask of wine, placing it aside, of course, away from Ah Liang, lest he ask for the empty flask and do something strange.

Lu Zhi casually asked, “Ah Liang, why don’t you honestly become a scholar? Becoming the head of an academy shouldn’t be too difficult.”

Ah Liang shook his head, “Even if I could, I wouldn’t be good at it. In sword practice, a hundred Mao Xiaodongs can’t compare to Ah Liang. In teaching, ten Ah Liangs can’t compare to Mao Xiaodong.”

If he became a proper scholar, he would never have peace in his life. Being in an academy, whether as the head, a court official, or a virtuous gentleman without official rank, Ah Liang would be like he never left the Sage’s residence, his studies mediocre, achieving nothing great. That man who always seemed to be neither greatly angry nor greatly happy would probably be disappointed for life.

Ah Liang didn’t want to be just another Confucian scholar from the four great Sage residences, of prominent status but ordinary learning, of little use to the world.

But if he became a free-spirited swordsman, the person with portraits and statues in the Confucian Temple couldn’t scold him every day, could he? Teach him swordsmanship? Embarrassing.

At most, he could act like a father, advising him to be as disciplined as possible in each sword strike, adhere to etiquette, avoid harming the innocent, and never let his sword harm the world’s morals… Just those few sentences, nothing more.

After all, even Chen Qingdu didn’t nag him much about swordsmanship, so no one in all the realms was qualified to criticize Ah Liang’s sword.

There were so many fine wines and beauties in the world, all waiting for Ah Liang to drink and see. How could he keep them waiting for so long?

Ah Liang’s expression became more serious, turning to say, “Lu Zhi, later, let’s go back to the Sword Qi Great Wall together. Take it easy, don’t readily unleash that flying sword.”

Previously, he had left room for his words, not directly agreeing to join Lu Zhi in challenging Tuoyue Mountain, for a very good reason.
This was a secret, unrecorded even in the Summer Palace archives of the Sword Qi Great Wall, as it concerned Lu Zhi’s second natal flying sword.

Only the peak sword immortals on the city wall council were deemed worthy to know of it.

There was a small faction of sword cultivators on the Sword Qi Great Wall who preferred a more unorthodox approach.

The reason Lu Zhi had not yet ascended to the Ascension Realm, aside from her relatively young age, was fundamentally because she had devoted too much of her spirit, time, and immortal coin to her second flying sword.

The sword was named “Beidou” (Big Dipper).

It was the “Jade Capital deities gather under Beidou” from immortal poetry, the “Beidou scatters its cold light, a single sword sweeps the eight desolations,” and the “South Dipper governs life, North Dipper governs death.”

Yet, this flying sword had never appeared on the battlefield.

A-Liang knew that even the Eldest Sword Immortal, usually averse to meddling, had once specifically summoned Lu Zhi to the city wall, questioning her sanity, asking if her brain had turned to mush. Was it worth delaying her ascension to the Ascension Realm for the sake of refining such a broken sword? Was she using her oversized posterior to think?

A-Liang had been squatting nearby, enjoying the show and the scenery. The Eldest Sword Immortal’s most erudite line had even been borrowed from him.

Lu Zhi had retorted that the Eldest Sword Immortal could manage the matters of demon slaying and war merit, but she would not be told how to practice her sword.

There was no such thing as having it all.

Just as with left and right, if one desired higher swordsmanship and to reach the pinnacle of the sword path, one could only delay ascension.

Lu Zhi, in pursuit of the ultimate killing power of her natal flying sword, had made the same choice.

Lu Zhi extended her hand and asked A-Liang for another flagon of wine, taking a hearty swig and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She said softly, “If that battle had been delayed by a century, it would have been better.”

A-Liang chuckled and shook his head, teasing, “If I were Chen Ping’an, I wouldn’t bear to let Sister Lu go to Qi Tingji and the Dragon Elephant Sword Sect. I’d shamelessly beg you to be my honorary elder.”

Lu Zhi said, “That’s why you can’t be the Hidden Official.”

A-Liang nodded, “I concede that.”

Lu Zhi asked, “Xi Ping, has the gathering at Duckweed Shoal dispersed?”

Jing Sheng Xi Ping nodded, “Chen Ping’an plans to visit the Parcel Shop at Parrot Isle with friends.”

As for the other Chen Ping’an, he had already gone to Pan Shui County to find Zheng Juzhong, and they were traveling and inquiring at Jin Ferry. There was no need for him to say anything; everyone would soon hear of it.

Lu Zhi smiled, “Back to his old trade, his forte.”

Under the noses of all the sword cultivators on the city wall and the great demon kings of the barbaric lands, there was once an outlander, not yet the Hidden Official, running around like a headless chicken, cleaning up the battlefield, to the amazement of both sides.

Later, the young sword cultivator, already the Hidden Official, would don a woman’s mask, dress in flamboyant colors, and leave the city wall for the battlefield to scavenge war merit. He was more feminine than any woman, and in moments of apparent peril, he would let out a delicate cry – not a fierce roar – to evade spells, twisting his waist in a flourish, his robes fluttering, as beautiful as a blooming flower…

So, his identity was never revealed from beginning to end. In the end, it was the outspoken Lu Zhi who spilled the beans. After that, Lu Zhi had to ask friends to buy wine for her, because the wine shop had received instructions from the second shopkeeper to double the price for Great Sword Immortal Lu. Lu Zhi couldn’t haggle with those stubborn shopkeepers and children. Besides, if it kept Chen Ping’an from daring to leave the Summer Palace, spending a few more immortal coins was nothing, except that Lu Zhi usually didn’t have much money, having poured it all into the bottomless pit that was her natal flying sword “Beidou.”

A-Liang also knew that Lu Zhi refined the flying sword “Beidou” at any cost in order to inscribe her name on the city wall.

It was as if she had already decided to inscribe her name and leave.

For Lu Zhi, a Celestial Realm sword cultivator with that flying sword had a better chance of slaying an Ascension Realm great demon, especially the demon king she had in mind, than a “normal” Ascension Realm sword cultivator without that flying sword.

The cultivators of the Great Bright World would never understand Lu Zhi’s stubbornness.

Sacrifice her realm? Die just to leave a name behind?

A-Liang understood.

Lu Zhi hoped that there would be a female sword cultivator whose name graced the Sword Qi Great Wall. She didn’t want all the names to be men.

How could such a Lu Zhi not be beautiful?

She was very beautiful.

The Eldest Sword Immortal had instructed the Summer Palace to send Lu Zhi to South Bosuo Continent, naturally hoping that Lu Zhi’s sword path, swordsmanship, realm, and flying sword would all advance further.

Otherwise, even if Lu Zhi was lucky and her natal flying sword broke without her dying on the battlefield, she would still fall in realm, meaning she would drop from Celestial Realm to Jade Pure.

After reaching the Upper Five Realms, it was already extremely difficult for a sword cultivator to break through, and even more difficult to rise again after falling. Just like A-Liang, and that Liu Cha who was fishing in the Gongdelin Secret Realm, they both had little hope of returning to the Fourteenth Realm in their lifetime. It wasn’t that they were despondent because of the fall in realm, but that human strength had its limits, and the good things in the world couldn’t all fall on one or two people.

The Eldest Sword Immortal must have hoped that humanity would not only have a sword cultivator Lu Zhi who had survived the battlefield, but also a female sword immortal in the future who could contend with some of the Fourteenth Realm cultivators, with two complete flying swords.

A-Liang asked with a smile, “With the Eldest Sword Immortal gone, there’s really no one to manage you anymore. Why did you change your ways?”

Lu Zhi said, “It’s nothing. I just felt that if I could avoid death, I should. It seems there are still many things I can do.”

For example, the Five Colored World and that Ascension Realm.

And she had never taken on a disciple.

Perhaps too many people from the Sword Qi Great Wall had gone and never returned, and Lu Zhi worried that the Great Bright World would not remember any of them. With her unsheathing her sword constantly in the Great Bright World, or with a Dragon Elephant Sword Sect, perhaps things would be different.

A-Liang nodded, “That’s very good.”

Lu Zhi turned to look at him seriously, saying, “It’s just that you’re a bit ugly.”

A-Liang smoothed his hair, “How about now?”

Riding a donkey in the drizzle, wearing a straw hat, carrying a bamboo saber, whistling a tune, and walking the world.

A-Liang had always felt that there was no difference between the mountains and the mundane world; everywhere was the world.

Yellow-braised mutton from North Long, tripe in hotpot from Yu Prefecture, and braised carp under the waterfall of the Yellow River Small Grotto Heaven, were all excellent dishes to pair with wine.
Ah Liang turned to Xi Ping with a smile, “Can we learn from the Sword Qi Great Wall? Deliberate on matters as we must, but also let people come out for a breath of fresh air, to clear their minds.”

The learned Xi Ping nodded and discussed it with the three Sect Leaders of the Confucian Temple. Soon, two groups of people emerged from the main gate one after another.

Zuo You and Qi Tingji walked out together.

There was Lin Junbi, the Little Celestial Master Zhao Yaoguang, and Fan Qingrun, the young Wealth God from the Fan family of Hanging Fish.

The first two groups to leave the Confucian Temple were sword cultivators and young people.

After that, people continued to cross the threshold, sitting on the steps in twos and threes, high and low.

Even while the Confucian Temple held discussions, one could still drink. It was just that drinking outside, with a broader view, indeed had a unique flavor.

Xi Ping stood up and returned to his position by the door. Some individuals who had just lifted their buttocks to leave knew that the number of available spots was limited and quietly lowered themselves back down.

Fan Qingrun, sitting on the steps, flicked his wrist, producing a folding fan painted with beautiful ladies, their bright eyes gleaming on the fan’s surface as they painted in colorful pavilions, played zithers beneath the trees, or burned incense while reading books.

Inside the Confucian Temple, who would dare behave so casually?

Fan Qingrun whispered, “Junbi, I’m truly curious about that Xiao Xun. Can you say a few words about her that are permissible?”

Zhao Yaoguang nodded, “Count me in.”

Lin Junbi thought for a moment and gave a concise answer, “The previous Hidden Official.”

Fan Qingrun closed his folding fan and slapped his forehead.

After the jest, Lin Junbi took out two jars of Dumb Lake wine that he had treasured for many years, handing them to Fan Qingrun and Zhao Yaoguang, saying, “Have a taste.”

Zhao Yaoguang took a sip, “Not that great.”

Fan Qingrun took a few more sips, nodding, “Indeed, nothing special.”

Lin Junbi said, “Xiao Xun had a very high reputation on the Sword Qi Great Wall. She served as the Hidden Official there for a thousand years. In truth, her actions were unlike those of a Hidden Official; she was more like a judge in charge of punishment and slaughter.”

Lin Junbi began to drink, pouring the wine into a bowl and gently swirling it, as if in the slightly rippling wine, he saw the Sword Qi Great Wall that haunted his dreams.

Lin Junbi never denied that he was unwilling to return to the battlefield of the Sword Qi Great Wall because he feared death. However, he would always miss that place because there was once a place where he was willing to sacrifice his life without regret, where he truly had a period of cultivation where he wasn’t afraid to die.

Jar after jar of wine, all purchased by Lin Junbi with his own money. Drinking involved spending money, and there was never any credit allowed at the wine shop. The wine bowl, however, he had pilfered from the wine shop.

Lin Junbi planned to travel to the Ascension City of the Five Colors World next time, revisiting the old site of the summer palace, and then conveniently return the bowl to the wine shop.

After taking a sip of Dumb Lake wine, Lin Junbi continued, “The summer palace and winter palace specifically allocated to the Hidden Official sword cultivator lineage, their storage archives piled up like mountains year after year. After I became a sword cultivator of the Hidden Official lineage, I read many secret records in the summer palace over the years. Most of them were accessible, and I discovered that many were confused accounts with no clear beginning or end because Xiao Xun was too uninvolved. Many of the annotations on the files seemed more like her pranks. The two sword immortals who defected with her, Luo Shan and Zhu An, were the ones who truly managed things, but they could only be considered to have adhered to their duties. They did a decent job, but one couldn’t say they did particularly well.”

Lin Junbi mocked himself, “Like you, I initially thought that any gentleman randomly selected from the Confucian side could do better than Xiao Xun. For example, Gentleman Wang Zai, who was the supervisor at the time, and of course, Lin Junbi myself.”

Fan Qingrun was puzzled, “Then why let her be the Hidden Official for so many years? Did no one have any objections? Was it because the sword cultivators with ideas couldn’t beat Xiao Xun, so they simply shut up?”

Fan Qingrun wasn’t foolish enough to think that the sword cultivators of the Sword Qi Great Wall were all idiots.

Moreover, not far away sat Ah Liang and Zuo You, Qi Tingji and Lu Zhi. It was best to be cautious in one’s words, especially with Master Zuo from the lineage of the Literary Sage, the Great Sword Immortal Zuo, whose temper was known throughout the world.

Lin Junbi shook his head, “From the Old Great Sword Immortal to Dong Sangeng and Chen Xi, and all the sword cultivators, almost everyone on the Sword Qi Great Wall, even the Hidden Official of the new Hidden Official lineage, Chou Miao, and later myself, felt that setting aside the defection, Xiao Xun was the most suitable candidate for Hidden Official before that, without a second thought.”

Lin Junbi raised his wine bowl, “A test for you, what is the foundation upon which the Sword Qi Great Wall has stood for ten thousand years?”

Zhao Yaoguang smiled, “Besides sword cultivators as numerous as clouds, what else could it be?”

Fan Qingrun said, “Not greedy for money, not afraid of death?”

Lin Junbi laughed, “This question was asked of me by the Hidden Official back then, I’m just using it to ask you. If you were a sword cultivator of the Hidden Official lineage, haha, just wait, the Hidden Official would be picking flying swords from a large basket.”

There was once a saying circulating on the Sword Qi Great Wall that the young Hidden Official’s odd and sarcastic remarks could fill several large baskets, and he never repeated himself when cursing people.

Lin Junbi’s answer back then hadn’t satisfied the young Hidden Official, so Lin Junbi directly gave Chen Ping An’s answer at this moment.

“Not Vastness.”

Because the Sword Qi Great Wall would never become the Vastness World.

That was Chen Ping An’s answer.

Fan Qingrun slapped his knee hard with the closed folding fan, “I’m convinced.”

Zhao Yaoguang picked up the wine jar, “Must take a big gulp.”

Lin Junbi continued to give an insider secret that outsiders would never know, “In fact, even if Chen Ping An hadn’t appeared, Chou Miao would have stood up, and this young sword immortal would have served as the final Hidden Official.”

And the two friends beside him were destined to hear the name Chou Miao for the first time.

But if Chou Miao were in the Vastness World, he would be Wei Jin of the Wind and Snow Temple of Treasure Bottle Continent, the “Sword Immortal Xu Jun” of Golden Armor Continent. Chou Miao would be famous throughout the world.

Lin Junbi said to himself, “In my heart, Chou Miao is second only to the Hidden Official. He is a very powerful sword cultivator, not in terms of swordsmanship, but in Chou Miao’s strategic planning and control of the overall situation.”

The former summer palace was a particularly reassuring place. There would be quarrels, glares, overturned chairs, and smashed tables, but in the end, friends became better friends, and those who were not friends originally became friends.

Lin Junbi folded his hands into his sleeves, bent over slightly, squinting into the distance, “In those years, during spare moments in the summer palace, the Hidden Official would review past events with us.”

“For example?”
“Let’s say we introduce more cultivators from the Three Teachings and the Hundred Schools of Thought into the Sword Qi Great Wall. What would the situation be within a hundred years, five hundred years, or a thousand years? What do you think the opening line of this review would be?”

Lin Junbi answered his own question, knowing his two friends couldn’t possibly guess. “It was a little girl who said something incredibly impolite. She said that even if they could get in, they wouldn’t last. They’d be half-slain by us! Arriving with face, but lacking the ability to stay, a laughingstock, a miserable sight.”

Lin Junbi pulled his sleeve back, pointing at himself with a radiant smile. “When I first arrived at the Sword Qi Great Wall, according to local custom, I had to pass three trials. I almost got kicked out! And let me tell you something not to wash dirty linen in public: back then, the Sword Immortal Ku Xia was absolutely ruined by our bunch of hotheads. Sword Immortal Sun Juyuan, ever heard of him? At first, he even gave us a smile. But later, seeing us was like seeing walking, two-legged manure buckets! He’d spew filth as soon as he opened his mouth. Don’t blame others for having sensitive noses, blame the fact that excrement really stinks… You guessed it, that was a metaphor casually picked by the Hidden Official from his basket of sayings.”

You haven’t been to the Sword Qi Great Wall, so you’ll never know what it’s like to be looked at from all sides as if you’re less than human.

But Lin Junbi held back that sentence, didn’t speak it out loud.

The Sword Qi Great Wall still stands, but the sword cultivators are all gone, either dead in battle or migrated elsewhere. So, the Qi refiners of the Vast Expanse no longer have the chance to travel to the Sword Qi Great Wall.

Lin Junbi asked with a smile, “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Fan Qingrun and Zhao Yaoguang looked at each other, feeling insulted by this little rascal, Lin Junbi.

Being young, skilled in strategy, quickly advancing in cultivation, having a brilliant mind, being handsome, and achieving fame at a young age, a flawless gem… does that give you the right to bully people like this?

Lin Junbi kept drinking, the bowl was small, but he drank them quickly. This was already his second pot of wine.

“To win this next battle, there’s actually one crucial thing: ‘surprise’. We need to give the Wildlands enough surprises. Otherwise, it’ll be very troublesome. We shouldn’t think that just because the Wildlands lost, suffered heavy losses, even losing most of their great demon kings and being forced to retreat, that they’re just a bunch of useless riffraff now. We must believe that the Wildlands also has heroes who can rise up in the face of overwhelming odds and turn the tide.”

Anyway, after drinking wine, and being outside the Confucian Temple, surrounded by like-minded friends, Lin Junbi was willing to say a few reckless things.

He was still young, he was drinking the Mute Lake wine, he was not only a sword cultivator but also a scholar, and behind him stood the Confucian Temple.

So, he wanted to take advantage of the slight intoxication, while he was still not in a high position, without so many rules and weighing pros and cons, to say some things that he might not be willing to say later.

“Why were the Middle Earth Divine Continent, the Snowy Continent, and the Flowing Sunset Continent able to quickly transform the resources of their various nations and mountains into combat power in the later stages of the previous war? Why were they able to truly leverage the geographical advantage of the Vast Expanse’s abundant resources for the first time? It’s because of the lessons learned from the Maple Leaf Continent, the Ascending Continent, and the Golden Armor Continent. We were scared after being beaten, even a distant glance caused pain, and no one dared to say they could stay out of it. Instead, people’s hearts were united.”

“We can do it, and the Wildlands can too. The ferocity with which the great demons there fight for their lives is something that Qi refiners on the Vast Expanse haven’t experienced enough. There haven’t been enough stalemates. Besides the Treasure Bottle Continent, it seems we only have the battle in the central region of the Golden Armor Continent to learn from. This won’t do! So, when I enter the Confucian Temple later, I’m going straight to Song Changjing to ask if the Great Li Song clan has secretly collected a series of chronological “Zoetrope of Time” paintings. If they’re unwilling to give them away for free, I’ll suggest to the three Principals of the Confucian Temple that the temple must buy them! If the Great Li Song clan refuses to sell no matter what, feeling the price is too low, and dares to demand an exorbitant price, then we won’t let Song Changjing leave the Confucian Temple…”

Jing Sheng Xi Ping glanced at Lin Junbi’s back, nodding slightly. As expected of a young man who had spent a few years in the Summer Palace.

The young man was a bit tipsy.

Lin Junbi was full of spirit, no longer a boy but still a young sword cultivator. He drank bowl after bowl of wine, his face flushed, his eyes shining, and said, “I don’t admire A Liang, and I don’t admire Zuo You, but I admire Chen Ping’an, I admire Chou Miao.”

I’m saying these things precisely because A Liang and Zuo You are right here.

Their swordsmanship is heaven-defying, their battle achievements are remarkable, they can reverse the fate of the world, but they may not be able, or perhaps are unwilling, to mend the cracks in the sky piece by piece.

Zuo You is too solitary.

A Liang is too carefree.

A Liang smiled.

Zuo You remained expressionless.

A Liang suddenly felt like drinking wine.

On the streets of Sword Qi Great Wall, if a sword cultivator saw Dong Sangeng, they could just call him by name, at worst they’d be slapped away.

In the Vast Expanse, when seeing old immortals like Fu Lu Yu Xuan and Grand Celestial Master Zhao Tianlai, countless young people, juniors, even elders and summit cultivators, would feel uneasy, their voices would tremble, they would admire and revere, they would be obsequious, and they would be extremely jealous.

A Liang suddenly remembered that this kid Lin Junbi, accurately speaking, was still a Confucian scholar of the Asian Sage lineage, right?

Lin Junbi hiccupped, his face flushed, and his tongue began to twist. “I’m probably useless now, I need to lie down and sleep for a while. You guys go back inside and discuss things first, don’t worry about me. Let me doze off for a bit. In half an hour, if I’m still not awake, someone come and shake me awake.”

He picked up his wine bowl again, determined not to go, so he could drink a few more bowls.

The world is vast, and the discussion inside the gate doesn’t need one small military strategist of the Confucian Temple.

To be drunk and sleep soundly on the steps of the Confucian Temple, snoring like thunder. This kind of opportunity, probably only happens once in this lifetime, must be cherished.

Zhao Yaoguang chuckled to Fan Qingrun in a voice transmission, “Flower Farmer, you go back inside first, I’ll stay here with Junbi. It’s okay to fall asleep, but we absolutely can’t let him go crazy from the alcohol. This kid has bottled up too many words, we can’t let him say them all at once. Otherwise, when the three of us gather to drink again in the future, we won’t see such a funny sight.”

Fan Qingrun smiled and got up to leave.
Drunken hiccups wracked Lin Junbi as he stared blankly at the Kong wine bowl in his hand. No wonder the tavern’s wine sold so well. Such a small bowl, drained in one go, was truly bold. “I’ll drain mine, you do as you please.” In truth, draining such a small bowl wasn’t much of a feat. Even those who weren’t prodigious drinkers could manage it with bravado. Naturally, with each bowl, a sense of heroism grew.

According to the tavern’s code, one could lose in swordplay, but never in drinking.

To lose in swordplay meant one’s swordsmanship wasn’t yet refined. But to be a coward at the drinking table was a flaw of character, unforgivable. It meant a lifetime of bachelorhood, and constantly borrowing money for drinks.

Rumor had it that an old swordsman, drawing from a hundred schools of thought, had compiled a small booklet: “Thirty-Six Ways to Drink Endlessly Without Falling.” Before each visit to the tavern, everyone felt confident, assured of victory. Yet, every time, they ended up sprawled under the table, calling each other brothers. After all, who among the gambling addicts, drunks, and bachelors who frequented the place hadn’t read the flimsy booklet, costing mere snowflakes of silver?

At the start of the drinking bout, *I am invincible*.

When the hangover hits, being carried home by a friend, or lying together under a table, or huddled in a corner by the roadside, one swore to never drink again. It was a waste of money, harmful to the body, shameful, and utterly pointless.

But then, when the effects wore off, all it took was a glance exchanged with a friend.

“Go?”

“Let’s go!”

It was like the Great Wall of Sword Qi. The drinking bouts were like this, the battlefield was like this, life itself was like this.

Lin Junbi took another huge gulp of wine, then choked it back with effort, only to spit it out. He fell backward, unconscious.

Lu Zhi, having finished her wine, stowed the flask in her sleeve and returned to the Literary Temple to listen to the proceedings.

Qi Tingji followed Lu Zhi back to his seat.

A’liang moved his position, sitting for a while near Lin Junbi and Zhao Yaoguang. He had a serious discussion with the Little Celestial Master of Dragon Tiger Mountain. A fifty-fifty split was out of the question.

Before returning to the Great Wall of Sword Qi, A’liang would definitely make a trip to the Celestial Master’s residence. He hadn’t even been to Dragon Tiger Mountain yet, or had he? No, he hadn’t. He hadn’t even met the Refining Truth girl yet, so how could he have been to Dragon Tiger Mountain? Even if he had gone, it would have been as if he hadn’t.

Zuo You remained in his original spot, alone. Waves of people came and went, heading out for drinks, but no one approached him, not even to strike up a casual conversation or offer a greeting.

This Zuo You.

His swordsmanship was too high, his temper too terrible.

The erudite Xi Ping, standing by the door, suddenly laughed. “Zuo You, your little junior brother is beating up Jiang Longxiang.”

Zuo You merely asked, “Are there any Ascension Realm cultivators over there willing to reason with my little junior brother? Even if they’re not close, but hiding in the distance and using ‘Palm Viewing Mountains and Rivers’ will do.”

The erudite Xi Ping nodded. “There are two Ascension Realm cultivators. They seem unimpressed with your little junior brother’s actions.”

Having spent so much time with the Old Scholar in the Moral Forest, he had inevitably picked up some bad habits.

They were like Nan Guangzhao, not qualified to participate in the Literary Temple’s proceedings.

One had privately mocked the Confucian scholar from the Southern Light Continent, saying Chen Chun’an had died at the wrong time, not cleverly enough. The other had once been slashed by Zhou Shenzhi, so he had quietly visited the Mountain and Water Grotto. He hadn’t said anything, but at the battlefield ruins, the old cultivator had smiled knowingly.

In truth, the Literary Temple knew about many things. But it granted the mountain cultivators too much freedom. The Literary Temple focused too much on examining actions, not intentions.

That was why the previous discussion on the summit of Sui Mountain had so few participants: the Sage of Sages, the Sage of Rites, the Sub-Sage, the Old Scholar, and the erudite Xi Ping, transformed from the book in the hands of the Sage of Sages.

Regarding this matter, the Sage of Rites had admitted something directly to the Sage of Sages: “I was too rigid before, judging those on the mountain peaks with the eyes of those below. I was wrong.”

Looking at the scholar who was bowing in apology,

The erudite Xi Ping had felt deeply saddened on the summit of Sui Mountain.

Then the Sub-Sage admitted his mistakes on other matters, and the Old Scholar admitted his mistakes too. It seemed everyone was at fault.

So the erudite Xi Ping now said to Zuo You, “Just act, I will clean up the mess.”

Zuo You said, “Give me precise locations. There are too many restrictions in the Literary Temple, I’m too lazy to search.”

The erudite Xi Ping waved his sleeve, and two flashes of light disappeared, guiding the way.

Two old Ascension Realm cultivators. One was in the town of Pan Shui, surrounded by admirers, chatting and laughing. The other was on Parrot Island, behind closed doors, discussing with mountain friends how to make money in Tongye Continent, establish a branch sect, each taking what they needed, supporting each other.

If they had attended the Literary Temple’s proceedings today, and knew how the five academy headmasters had left the Literary Temple’s gates, they would have been much more cautious in their words and deeds, speaking with greater care.

Zuo You stood up, drew his sword, and with a sudden pull, the scabbard and longsword separated into two. One went to the town of Pan Shui, and the other to Parrot Island.

Zuo You was in a dilemma. Which one to cut down first?