The bamboo forest formed a verdant curtain, dotted with a few thatched huts.

Facing each other before the entrance of one such hut stood Ma Quxian, the foremost disciple of the Great Duan Dynasty’s martial goddess.

His visitor, a man of slender build in a long, azure robe and cloth shoes, stood amidst the bamboo.

From two other huts emerged two women, their faces youthful despite their advanced years. These were Ma Quxian’s junior sisters: one, Dou Fenxia, hailing from the prestigious Yun-style Dou clan; the other, Liao Qing’ai, a wild cultivator turned pure martial artist, who had joined the army and, during a brutal battle, caught the eye of National Preceptor Pei Bei, who recognized her talent and took her as a disciple, leading to her meteoric rise in the martial arts.

Dou Fenxia, her hair styled in a “spirit serpent” coil, leaned languidly against a bamboo stalk. Her figure was voluptuous. With a subtle smile, she scrutinized the ill-intentioned man.

Just before stopping, she had stooped to collect a few pebbles and bamboo leaves. Now, leaning against the bamboo, she tapped the ground lightly with her toe, rhythmically.

Nearby, Liao Qing’ai, having once dabbled in cultivation, had reached the Cave Realm early in life, allowing her to retain a youthful appearance even at the age of fifty. Her waist was incredibly slender, and a long saber hung at her side.

Among these three fellow disciples, Ma Quxian, the eldest, had reached the peak of the Mountain Peak Realm.

Both Dou Fenxia and Liao Qing’ai were pure martial artists stuck at the bottleneck of the Distant Excursion Realm.

All three pure martial artists harbored hopes of reaching the Tenth Realm.

Thus, to outsiders, if their sect were to produce five Tenth Realm martial artists, the martial fortune of the Great Duan Dynasty would be unprecedented.

A breeze rustled through the bamboo, gently stirring the azure robes of the man in the distance. His hair at his temples danced, and his sleeves swayed, creating ripples like those on water.

For a moment, it seemed as though he had entered the ethereal state of unity between Heaven and Man.

The scene was a pleasing tableau. Dou Fenxia’s eyes sparkled as she thought, “So this is the famed but unseen Hidden Official. No wonder he could fight my little martial brother three times on the city walls in his youth.”

Liao Qing’ai, however, wore a frosty expression, holding no goodwill towards the man. Unable to defeat their junior brother, he sought out their senior brother while Cao Ci was attending a Confucian Temple discussion? What kind of behavior was this?

Ma Quxian asked with a smile, “Chen Ping’an, have you mistaken your target? Since when has Ma Quxian become so famous? If you merely seek a martial exchange to hone your skills, surely there are other esteemed seniors? I hardly seem to be the appropriate choice.”

Chen Ping’an shook his head. “I haven’t mistaken anyone. It is you I seek. Unless you are not Ma Quxian.”

Currently, around the Confucian Temple, there were a dozen or so grandmasters standing at the pinnacle of the martial arts world, both openly and in the shadows.

Zhang Tiaoxia of Middle Earth, Song Changjing of Treasure Bottle Continent, Wang Fusuo of Northern Ju Lu Continent, Wu Shu of Tongye Continent, Pei Axiang of Snowy Continent… All were Tenth Realm martial artists, each supreme within their respective domains.

Though Ma Quxian was proud and ambitious, he was not so arrogant as to believe himself comparable to these seniors.

The recently selected “Ten Young Masters of the World” included the Hidden Official, ranked eleventh, who occupied a spot due to his dual identities as a Ninth Realm martial artist and a Nascent Soul sword cultivator.

However, Ma Quxian had learned from his master and junior brother that Chen Ping’an had already entered the Tenth Realm in Tongye Continent.

Therefore, Chen Ping’an’s visit today, seemingly with the intention of a martial exchange, was essentially a Tenth Realm practitioner challenging a Ninth Realm one—unjustified and hardly honorable, even if he were to win.

Of course, if Chen Ping’an insisted, Ma Quxian would not refuse.

Ma Quxian was a Great Duan martial artist, a battle-hardened general risen from the ranks, now commanding an elite border army of two hundred thousand men.

Thus, Ma Quxian saw no need to overthink. He smiled and asked, “How shall we proceed?”

“I offer you two choices. If you lose, first apologize and admit your mistake, then return an item.”

Chen Ping’an continued, “If you lose the fight but not your honor, then suffer a degradation in your realm, forfeiting all hope of reaching the Tenth Realm in this lifetime. Afterwards, I will challenge Pei Bei, and retrieve that item.”

Ma Quxian was utterly bewildered. What was all this about? What apology, to whom, and for what? What item was he supposed to return? He had no connection with Chen Ping’an whatsoever.

Dou Fenxia giggled, tightening her grip on the pebbles in her hand. She raised the back of her hand to her lips, finding the young Hidden Official’s aggressiveness quite endearing.

Liao Qing’ai said coldly, “Chen Ping’an, this is not a place for you to run wild!”

Chen Ping’an ignored her, extending a palm towards Ma Quxian, indicating that he could strike first.

He was clear about his grievances. He had come solely to challenge Ma Quxian, intending to use Ma Quxian’s own methods to repay him in martial combat, using the same principles that Ma held dear.

The Great Duan Dynasty, Pei Bei, Cao Ci, Dou Fenxia and Liao Qing’ai were all irrelevant. However, if anyone insisted on interfering, Chen Ping’an would reason with them as well.

Liao Qing’ai abruptly turned her head, her face filled with displeasure. Someone dared to observe the scene from afar with a mountain-watching spell.

Simultaneously, Dou Fenxia playfully raised her hand, a bamboo leaf flickering between her fingertips. It shot out like a miniature flying sword, tracing a straight line before halting, suspended, like a sword cultivator issuing a challenge.

A Celestial Realm cultivator within the Ao Tou Mountain Immortal Mansion had no choice but to retract the spell. Shaking his head with a wry smile, the celestial, a royal worshiper of the Great Duan Dynasty, felt obligated to protect Pei Bei’s disciples. The three martial grandmasters in the bamboo forest might not yet be aware of the roots of the challenger, but the Duan celestial had witnessed the aftermath of the events at Mandarin Duck Shoal and knew the prowess of the azure-robed sword immortal.

Another reason for the celestial’s bitter smile was the azure-robed sword immortal’s demeanor in the bamboo forest, which felt strangely familiar, bearing a resemblance to Immortal Yun Miao’s cloud-water manifestation from the Nine Truth Immortal Hall.

In truth, although it was the first time Ma Quxian and his sisters had met Chen Ping’an, they were not entirely ignorant of the last Hidden Official of the Sword Qi Great Wall.
It began with Chen Pingan, in his youth, encountering Cao Ci at the Sword Qi Great Wall, engaging in three battles and suffering three defeats. Later, Chen Pingan’s first disciple, a young woman named Pei Qian, during her solitary travels in the Central Earth Continent, sought out Cao Ci in the Great End Dynasty. She declared her name and engaged in four rounds of pugilism. The outcome was never in doubt, but Pei Qian greatly admired this martial artist from another land with the same surname. During the time Pei Qian spent recuperating at the National Preceptor’s manor, Pei Bei herself personally concocted the medicinal cuisine Pei Qian consumed daily.

Dou Fenxia smiled enchantingly and asked, “Young Master Chen, may I trouble you with a request? Before you engage in a life-or-death struggle with Ma Quxian, allow me to exchange a move or two with you, not a formal martial arts contest.”

Ma Quxian rebuked, “Junior Sister Dou, do not be foolish!”

However, Dou Fenxia had already moved several steps sideways, swiftly launching three pebbles from her hand, along with several bamboo leaves as swift as flying swords, directly towards the figure in azure robes.

She then placed her hand on the green bamboo beside her, causing the bamboo leaves to rustle and fall, a large cluster of verdant leaves gathering in the air, solidifying into a vast expanse of emerald green, as if she had unleashed hundreds of flying swords.

Chen Pingan flicked his left sleeve, dispersing the approaching pebbles and bamboo leaves, then raised his right hand, two fingers joined together, gently pointing. A chilling sword qi gathered at Dou Fenxia’s brow, as if a surge of overwhelming sword energy had condensed into a mustard seed, lightly pressing against her forehead, like a visitor standing at the door, yet not knocking. Dou Fenxia’s entire fair face rippled slightly, and the spirit serpent hairpin on her head loosened silently.

She dared not make any further movements. The bamboo leaves, devoid of martial artist spirit and supported only by pure true qi, shattered with a crash, many falling into her hair and onto her shoulders. She stomped her foot, revealing a girlishly bashful demeanor, and lamented, “As expected, being two realms lower makes it impossible to fight.”

Dou Fenxia clapped her hands, and at the spots where the pebbles and bamboo leaves had been shattered by Chen Pingan’s sleeve, particles of golden light were scattered by her clap.

Chen Pingan understood. This Dou Fenxia was deliberately revealing her identity as a “Puppet Master,” a martial lineage that was purely martial artist in nature, yet able to suppress martial artists through secret techniques. A martial artist of the same realm encountering her would be as troubled as a Qi Refiner facing a Sword Cultivator, extremely difficult to deal with, with very little chance of victory. However, it seemed that there were many Puppet Masters in the Azure Underworld, while they were rare in the Vast World.

Unfortunately, even his student Cui Dongshan knew little about this Puppet Mastery, so Chen Pingan had only learned a little bit, enough to scare people. In a life-or-death struggle, there would be no chance to use it.

Dou Fenxia smiled and continued to examine the composed figure in azure robes, secretly using sound transmission to remind Ma Quxian, “Senior Brother, my guess was correct. Besides being a Sword Cultivator, Chen Pingan is indeed a deeply hidden Puppet Master, a fellow practitioner of mine. In the upcoming martial arts exchange, Senior Brother must be careful, no matter how careful you are, it will not be excessive.”

Ma Quxian, however, did not appreciate the sentiment. It was just a martial arts exchange, with life and death at one’s own risk. Dou Fenxia’s calculations were beneath him, even if losing, would be not only due to inferior skills. He replied to his Junior Sister, “Junior Sister need not expend so much effort.”

Dou Fenxia’s expression remained unchanged, seemingly exchanging affectionate glances with the young Hidden Official, but her words to her Senior Brother were filled with anger, “It’s obvious that the other party is not a kind person. You are about to be challenged by a tenth-realm martial artist, what face are you talking about? You’re the one being a sensitive fool! If I were you, I would attack him together!”

Chen Pingan chuckled.

He roughly guessed Dou Fenxia’s thoughts, but did not reveal them directly.

Ma Quxian began to slowly move forward. Since the other party had come to his doorstep, there was no reason for him, as a ninth-realm martial artist who was only half a step away from the peak, the master’s nominal first disciple, not to accept the challenge.

Pei Bei had originally intended to accept only one disciple in her life, Cao Ci.

It was because, a few years ago, after the conclusion of a great war, the Emperor of the Great End Dynasty opened his mouth with a request to Pei Bei, saying that he was like an old man who loved to watch stories of the pugilistic world and pleaded with Pei, who appeared still very young.

To make the pugilistic world of the Great End Dynasty lively, with more experts, like the Four Grandmasters, or the Top Ten Experts.

Pei Bei agreed.

Therefore, Pei Bei now had four nominal direct disciples: the eldest disciple Ma Quxian, Dou Fenxia, Liao Qing’ai, and the closed-door disciple Cao Ci.

Internally, except for Cao Ci, the other three were only Pei Bei’s unofficial disciples. Cao Ci was still the first disciple, and also the closed-door disciple.

Externally, because Cao Ci was the youngest, he became the little junior brother of Ma Quxian and the other two.

Cao Ci didn’t care about this, but Ma Quxian and the other three senior brothers and sisters knew very well that only when they reached the tenth realm would they have a chance to be truly regarded as direct disciples by their master.

Chen Pingan remained standing in place, simply rolling up his sleeves.

Ma Quxian took a slight step, causing a slight depression in the muddy ground. His figure instantly left his original spot. Ma Quxian’s overwhelming martial intent surged and poured out. The large bamboo forest surrounding the azure-robed figure simultaneously bent backward, hundreds of bamboo stalks curving into a huge arc.

Chen Pingan remained motionless, using one palm to block the other party’s elbow, sliding back a few steps, then extending one hand, tilting upward, supporting Ma Quxian’s chin, and suddenly exerted force.

Ma Quxian suddenly turned his head, dodging Chen Pingan’s seemingly casual, but extremely fierce, lift, bending his knees, twisting his waist, and dropping his shoulders, his figure sinking and rotating, sweeping one leg horizontally. The azure-robed figure disappeared, replaced by a large area of green bamboo being snapped in half. Ma Quxian stood in the open space, and the azure-robed figure landed gracefully on top of a broken bamboo section, one hand holding a fist, the other behind his back, smiling slightly: “You like to yield the first strike? Just because I’m older, doesn’t mean my realm is higher, there’s no need to be so polite.”

Dou Fenxia narrowed her eyes. If it were her, she definitely wouldn’t have been able to dodge the young Hidden Official’s lift. If she had been hit solidly, the martial arts exchange would probably have ended, and she would have to obediently recuperate for a month or two.

Ma Quxian remained silent, taking a deep breath, pulling open a boxing stance, with the divine intent of a bow fully drawn like the moon. With this ninth-realm martial artist as the center, the surrounding bamboo forest bowed, instantly bending their stalks, and the sounds of shattering were incessant.

Was it actually a boxing technique that absorbed the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, then refined it into a pure true qi? How was such a martial artist different from a Refiner? Wouldn’t fighting against a Qi Refiner be equivalent to naturally sitting in a “no magic” zone?
The Immortal Ma flickered and vanished, so swift that Dou Fenxia and Liao Qing’ai couldn’t even catch a glimpse of their senior brother’s movements.

They heard a sound like fists colliding, a peal of spring thunder erupting within the bamboo forest. In the next instant, Ma Quxian was standing where the man in azure robes had been, the arm that had thrown the punch trembling slightly, blood seeping from his sleeve.

Further away, the two female martial artists saw the man standing atop a bending bamboo stalk, his hands clasped behind his back, looking down with an air of superiority. His eyes were still fixed on Ma Quxian as he asked with a smile, “Still offering me a handicap? Do you truly think I’m just some wandering martial artist from afar?”

Liao Qing’ai said in a low voice, “To inquire about fists is one thing, but to humiliate someone with words? You’re not worthy of being called a grandmaster!”

Chen Ping’an nodded, “Reasonable. Sounds about right.”

In the Azure Bottle Continent, there was an old man who always carried a sword, its scabbard made of bamboo. Before venturing into the martial world, he would always consult the almanac.

One day, while the old man was at home, a martial artist from another continent came knocking, wanting to buy the sword scabbard. He threatened to kill the old man if he refused, and even take the lives of his grandson and granddaughter-in-law as well.

Perhaps from that day on, the old man no longer had a martial world in his heart. He began to accept his age, no longer able to turn the pages of that old almanac.

So, I, Chen Ping’an, merely exchanged a few words with you all, and you think I’m not worthy of being a martial artist?

Ma Quxian, remembering that this young Hidden Official was from the Azure Bottle Continent, suddenly recalled something. He tentatively asked, “What is your relationship with a certain old Song from Combing Stream Country?”

Finally, he remembered.

Chen Ping’an narrowed his eyes and slowly said, “What relationship? A senior-junior relationship. Senior Song taught me a sword technique.”

One sword strike, capable of repelling a thousand troops.

Similar to the Great Dao of the Sword Qi Great Wall.

Chen Ping’an took a step, descended from the bamboo stalk, his feet touching the ground. The bamboo stalk beside him instantly straightened, its leaves rustling violently.

Chen Ping’an asked, “Have you already forgotten that old man’s name?”

Ma Quxian sneered, “So that’s how it is. Indeed, I can’t remember what the old fool’s name was.”

He remembered a certain old martial artist from that village, was he a Sixth Realm or a Seventh Realm cultivator?

For a small country like Azure Bottle Continent, he was probably the supreme grandmaster of the martial world? Ma Quxian vaguely remembered that the other party was initially ungrateful, of low cultivation, yet surprisingly bold, and stubbornly refused to sell the sword scabbard. A young couple from the village, apparently the old man’s descendants, were even willing to risk their lives. In the end, the old man probably felt it wasn’t worth causing his family’s destruction for the sake of a scabbard, so he obediently handed it over.

Chen Ping’an was slightly distracted, frowning slightly.

Because that extremely strange riverside council seemed to have ended. All the Fourteenth Realm great cultivators had returned to the banks of the River of Time.

Ma Quxian seized this fleeting opportunity, instantly appearing before Chen Ping’an, silently delivering a punch with the most complete fist intent of his life.

Chen Ping’an extended a hand, grabbed Ma Quxian’s punch, gently deflected it, and then, for the first time, actively threw a punch – the Divine Man Drumming stance.

The punch landed, sending Ma Quxian’s burly figure staggering back dozens of feet. Along the way, countless bamboo stalks were shattered. Punch after punch connected, Ma Quxian retreated again and again, unable to parry.

Dou Fenxia’s face turned pale. Could it be that her senior brother was truly going to have his cultivation regress due to this man’s attacks?

For a martial artist to experience a drop in cultivation was already a rare occurrence, and the aftereffects were even more terrifying than a cultivator’s loss of realm.

Liao Qing’ai instinctively wanted to step forward and interrupt the continuous fist intent, but she suppressed the urge and watched as her senior brother was relentlessly bombarded by the man in azure robes.

In martial arts, inquiring about fists has its own rules, which are even more important than victory or defeat, even life and death.

Only at this moment did Dou Fenxia truly believe one thing.

Chen Ping’an might now truly be qualified to contend with Cao Ci in an inquiry about fists.

Her senior brother Ma Quxian had once said that there were countless martial artists in the world, but only their junior brother Cao Ci, before reaching the Tenth Realm, could completely overwhelm his opponents in any realm, needing only a few punches to win.

Once their little junior brother Cao Ci reached the Tenth Realm, dealing with any Ninth Realm martial artist in the world, regardless of their talent, would only require a single punch to determine the victor, absolutely no need for a second.

Back when that young woman came to Great End to inquire about fists, Cao Ci’s attitude towards her was more akin to how he treated Yu Juanfu in the ruins of the Golden Armor Continent battlefield.

However, Pei Qian did surprise them. In those few spars, although Cao Ci was somewhat giving her a handicap, and deliberately suppressed his cultivation, he was extremely serious with every punch he threw. Especially during the third match, Cao Ci had even inadvertently taken two punches from her.

As a result, after that match, Pei Qian, despite losing, was still desperately leaning against the wall, refusing to fall to the ground.

It was as if she was saying, “My fists have not lost.”

And Cao Ci had to sit on the wall of Great End’s capital city afterwards, propping his chin with one hand and rubbing his forehead with the other, first to dispel the bruises.

The bamboo forest was carved into a three-mile-long path by Ma Quxian, with shattered bamboo stalks scattered on both sides. Finally, this martial artist, whose inner world was shattered, a Ninth Realm cultivator a moment ago, now an Eighth Realm cultivator, leaned against a green bamboo, his face covered in blood. He could only widen his eyes, his arms hanging limply, his feet desperately trying to support him, trying to lean his body against the bamboo, but still unable to stop his slow slide to the ground.

The man in azure robes bent down, extended a hand, and pressed it against Ma Quxian’s forehead, helping him barely stay upright. He lowered his head and said, “Remember, that senior’s name is Song Yushao, the Sword Saint of Combing Stream Country.”

Chen Ping’an released his hand, and Ma Quxian’s pure qi completely dissipated. He slid to the ground, leaning against the green bamboo, his head drooping, seemingly unconscious after suffering heavy injuries.

After taking nearly twenty Divine Man Drumming strikes, it would be strange if his cultivation didn’t regress.

As for exactly how many punches Ma Quxian had taken, Chen Ping’an didn’t bother counting. What was there to remember about that?

Chen Ping’an turned his head and glanced at the two female martial artists near the thatched hut.

Dou Fenxia was heavy-hearted, her expression solemn, with no trace of her usual seductive charm.

She met the gaze of the man in azure robes, who nodded slightly. Then, with a tap of his toes, he ascended to the top of the bamboo sea, standing on a bamboo branch, gazing into the distance. It was as if the inquiry about fists had ended, and he was about to depart on the wind.

Dou Fenxia rushed over, squatted down, and reached out to support Ma Quxian’s shoulders. Her face was filled with sorrow. Her senior brother had truly had his cultivation regress.
Liao Qing’e halted at the thatched hut’s entrance, then stepped forward, abruptly cupping her fist in salute, and declared sternly, “Chen Ping’an, within thirty years, I will seek to exchange blows with you!”

Chen Ping’an turned his head and glanced at her, “As you wish.”

In the next instant, a figure clad in azure robes vanished atop the bamboo sea.

Simultaneously, Chen Ping’an within the Parrot Isle residence also disappeared.

The two Chen Ping’ans who had been wandering and causing trouble outside the Confucian Temple were able to return to the riverbank, merging into one.

This riverside conference was the most peculiar event of all.

Earlier, after following the likes of Wu Shuangjiang and other Fourteenth Realm cultivators to ascend a pseudo-Mount Tuoyue that was nearly indistinguishable from the real one, Chen Ping’an found himself back at the riverbank after taking a single step atop the summit.

Chen Ping’an only faintly detected a subtle alteration in the River of Time and could neither recall nor surmise what he had done or said between those two steps.

Chen Ping’an sensed that things were not so simple.

Upon his return to the riverbank, he only saw the Sage of Rites and Bai Ze.

The Master and the Second Sage, like the other Fourteenth Realm cultivators, had vanished without a trace.

She, too, was nowhere to be found.

Chen Ping’an could only crouch by the water’s edge, continuing to stare at the River of Time, emulating Li Huai by not dwelling on things he couldn’t understand.

He only learned from Parrot Isle that the wealthy local, Liu Chicheng, had spent a staggering fifteen hundred Grain Rain coins to acquire a hundred pieces of emerald glazed tiles from the Fire Dragon True Man.

It was such a “To have you, Liu Chicheng, serve as a bookkeeper in my declining Falling Mountain, is like having the Sword Immortal Mi watch the gate for my God of Wealth, Wei Wenlong, even that you are not qualified for.”

At Parrot Isle’s Package Shop, he borrowed money from others, and after meeting Yu Panshui and Yuan Zhou, he incurred further debts.

Therefore, Chen Ping’an, gazing at the profound and mysterious River of Time, didn’t overthink anything, only feeling as if he was staring at a river of immortal money.

He couldn’t resist turning his head to glance at the Sage of Rites.

The Sage of Rites smiled, “Entrusting the purse strings to others is truly not as good as having you do it.”

Chen Ping’an knew that his designs on the River of Time were futile.

He then inquired about the mysteries of the “Breaking Character” decree. The Sage of Rites only replied that once they left this place, Xi Ping would grant him permission to peruse the Confucian Temple’s secret archives.

Chen Ping’an rose and bowed in gratitude.

The Sage of Rites smiled, “There are often sword lights from the Night Voyage Ship. I hope you won’t keep people waiting for too long, because you may need to meet someone before you can return to the Night Voyage Ship.”

Chen Ping’an nodded, filled with confusion.

Meet whom?

Surely not the Supreme Sage Confucius?

Chen Ping’an dared not ask further.

Bai Ze left the Sage of Rites and walked alone to Chen Ping’an’s side. The two, vastly different in age, sat by the water’s edge, casually discussing the local customs of Treasure Bottle Continent. Bai Ze’s journey back then, accompanied by the fox spirit in palace attire, to travel the Vast World, and his encounter with Chen Ping’an on the Great Li border, on that snowy night at the post station, was of course intentional on Bai Ze’s part.

Regarding Chen Ping’an’s predicament of bearing the true name of a great demon, Bai Ze smiled and said that once the Hidden Official advanced to the Immortal Realm, the situation would improve significantly.

Hearing Bai Ze address him as the Hidden Official, Chen Ping’an couldn’t help but feel awkward.

If he were to return to the Sword Qi Great Wall and journey south to the Barren World again, Chen Ping’an wouldn’t mind encountering anyone, only hoping not to meet the person beside him.

But as long as he went to that Barren World with only two bright moons remaining, it seemed difficult to avoid encountering Bai Ze.

“Chen Ping’an, you don’t need to overthink things, just do your duty.”

Bai Ze smiled, “Regardless of what others do, as a scholar, hold firmly to one principle in your heart: advocate virtuous deeds, with good intentions guiding your writings. Then, on the path of cultivation, you may not necessarily profit from it, but at least it will allow you to walk step by step with peace of mind.”

A tall woman in white robes was the first to reappear beside Chen Ping’an, sitting cross-legged with her sword across her lap.

Following her were the Old Scholar, the Second Sage, then Yu Dou, Lu Chen, the monk Shen Qing, the female Daoist, the Dragon Slayer, the Old Abbot, Wu Shuangjiang, and several others whose identities Chen Ping’an did not know, all reappearing by the riverbank.

It was as if everyone had gone on a long journey, unharmed, and as if all the Fourteenth Realm great cultivators had experienced a great dream. Upon waking, they pondered the dream briefly, then it became blurred.

Everyone was like someone standing on the shore, gazing at the moon reflected in the water. Any thought was a pebble; to have a thought was to cast a stone into the water. The ripples would only make the moon in the water even more indistinct.

Therefore, all the great cultivators who truly stood at the peak fell into contemplation, and no one spoke.

Perhaps the only exception was the carefree Second Sect Master of the Jade Capital. Lu Chen seemed to hesitate about whether to catch up with Chen Ping’an and ask how his calligraphy was progressing.

The white-robed woman sitting beside Chen Ping’an spoke first, smiling, “In recent years, I had nothing to do in the Outer Heavens, so I opened up an ancient battlefield ruin as a place to practice swordsmanship. Master can ascend there in the future and cultivate there. You can go whenever you want, and return whenever you want. The Confucian Temple won’t stop you, right, Sage of Rites?”

The Sage of Rites nodded with a smile, “What Senior says goes.”

Chen Ping’an was terrified.

As expected, the Sage of Rites slightly shifted his gaze, looking at the sword-carrying young man, and added, “Right, Chen Ping’an?”

Chen Ping’an could only bite the bullet and say, “What the Sage of Rites says also goes.”

Lu Chen raised a palm, adjusted the tilted lotus crown on his head, and then clapped his hands and laughed, praising, “My hometown, a land of propriety.”

The Old Abbot of the Eastern Sea smiled, “Haven’t seen you in a few years, your skill has grown.”

The Old Monk clasped his hands together, saying “Amitabha,” and nodded, “Inherent wisdom, due to inherent wisdom.”

Chen Ping’an was rather helpless. You are all Fourteenth Realm, what you say goes.

The atmosphere by the riverbank eased slightly.

The Sage of Rites suddenly bowed to everyone, then rose and smiled, “The conference is over, everyone go home.”

No one asked anything, but in the depths of their hearts, it seemed that everyone guessed one thing: although the Three Teachings Patriarchs had not appeared, they were definitely watching everyone from behind the scenes.

After “everyone go home,” there would most likely be a clear outcome waiting for everyone.

The Sage of Rites opened the restriction, and Bai Ze stood up and disappeared from the riverbank first.
The old scholar scurried over, replacing Bai Ze, and sat beside Chen Ping’an. He reached out and touched the ground, disappointed, saying, “How could Bai Ze, as an elder, not even leave a gold nugget behind?”

Lu Chen stood on tiptoe, waving in the distance, “Chen Ping’an, see you later, I’m waiting for you.”

Chen Ping’an ignored him.

The old monk, seeming enlightened after exchanging Zen riddles with Chen Ping’an, smiled and said, “Eastern Mountain aura, Northern Sea elegance, cultivating precepts of meditation and wisdom, the divine will of the Medicine Buddha.”

Although Chen Ping’an didn’t understand anything, he still stood up, clasped his hands together, and respectfully returned the greeting to the old monk.

Lu Chen, with a gratified smile, nodded to himself, saying, “As expected, he’s still closer to this Daoist, no need for such formalities.”

Beside the River of Time, one by one, the fourteenth realm great cultivators, like comets rising from the earth, went to the heavens, disappearing in an instant.

Wu Shuangjiang will continue to travel the desolate world, looking for trouble with the old deaf man of the Sword Qi Great Wall.

Yu Dou glanced at the green-robed sword-carrying youth before returning to the Azure Vault World to continue guarding White Jade Capital.

The Dragon Slayer, currently known as Chen Zhuoliu, plans to find Jing Hao, who has occupied his nest for three thousand years, and tell him to move out and return the place to its original owner.

Azure Palace Grand Protector? What Azure Palace?

Naturally, it’s his place of cultivation.

If he hadn’t decided to slay the dragon back then, then the Great Harmony World wouldn’t just have one White Emperor City, but would have had an Azure Emperor City first.

Chen Ping’an sat back down.

She turned around, reached out, made a loose fist, and offered it to Chen Ping’an.

Chen Ping’an, puzzled, extended his palm, only to have her suddenly grasp his hand, and she smiled, “Since it seems like just a blink of an eye, twenty years have passed. Thinking about it that way, the sixty-year agreement isn’t much at all. I’ll just take a nap in my sword practice area. Don’t bring any other women to the outer heavens then. If you haven’t reached the Ascension Realm by then, say hello to the Sage of Rites.”

Chen Ping’an sighed and nodded gently, agreeing to her request.

The old scholar gasped, not looking to the side, sitting upright as a bell, with a righteous and awe-inspiring look, and said, “The scenery on the other shore is extremely beautiful.”

She released his hand and stood up.

Chen Ping’an followed suit and said, “Why do you have to go to the outer heavens? You can wander around the Great Harmony World. For the past ten thousand years, you’ve actually been in your hometown, and haven’t moved around much.”

She blinked, “Stay in the Great Harmony World? I’m afraid the jealousy would be too strong.”

Chen Ping’an looked embarrassed and immediately shut up.

She looked at Chen Ping’an, seeing herself in his eyes, and in her eyes, only him.

She smiled, took a step back, and said softly, “I’m leaving.”

Chen Ping’an nodded.

She transformed into a rainbow, breaking through the sky, and headed straight for the outer heavens.

The next moment, Chen Ping’an found himself on a mountain peak.

The peak of Mount Sui.

An old gentleman stood not far away, smiling and looking at him.

Chen Ping’an bowed deeply, at a loss for words for the first time.

The old scholar jumped and said, “This is not right, not right at all! This is too much of an honor. My closed-door disciple, no matter how young, how diligent in his studies, how excellent in cultivating his mind and strength, how outstanding in dealing with people, is still unworthy of this great honor…”

The Sage of Rites stood on the side, unable to stand the old scholar’s behavior of getting an advantage and still acting coy, and laughed, “Too much of an honor? Who was it who shamelessly begged earlier?”

The old scholar rubbed his hands and said, “Don’t hit someone in the face, don’t expose someone’s weaknesses. The Sage of Rites doesn’t even understand this bit of etiquette, that’s not kind.”

As a teacher, if there’s something to ask for, why not ask?

The old gentleman smiled and said, “Scholar, this disciple of yours isn’t as handsome as you said.”

Chen Ping’an straightened up, feeling a little embarrassed.

Suddenly, a flash of inspiration struck Chen Ping’an’s heart.

Then the gathering of the fourteenth realm great cultivators by the river earlier, resulting in not even knowing what to discuss in the end, makes sense.

The old gentleman hummed, nodded, and smiled, “Smart, even smarter than I imagined. That’s right, what’s the point of reading if you’re not enlightened?”

The old man smiled and said, “One person promotes goodness.”

Chen Ping’an hesitated for a moment, waited for a while, and had no choice but to respond, “Ten thousand people can be stirred.”

The old man continued to ask, “Greater learning?”

Chen Ping’an replied, “In practice.”

That Most Sagely Teacher smiled and nodded, “Very good.”