Chen Ping’an, once again with his sword strapped to his back, appeared on the steps outside the grand gates of the Wen Miao, the Confucian Temple.

“That little scamp Lin Junbi is quite bold, isn’t he? Seems like he just woke up from a drunken stupor.”

Upon seeing Chen Ping’an ascending the stairs, Lin Junbi immediately dispelled any lingering signs of intoxication. He called out, “Lord Hidden Official!” then simply smiled, offering no further explanation.

Chen Ping’an nodded, offering mock praise, “To dare be so slovenly and intoxicated at the very gates of the Wen Miao, Junbi, you certainly possess an impressive official’s aura! It’s so domineering that you should carry a large basket with you at all times to avoid inadvertently harming bystanders.”

Lin Junbi broke out in a cold sweat.

Nearby, several cultivators who had come out to drink and relieve their boredom couldn’t help but cast sidelong glances at the figure clad in a simple blue robe. It was impossible for them to remain indifferent.

Those with the right to participate in discussions here were privy to more than a few pieces of sensitive information. They knew that this seemingly amiable young man carrying a sword on his back possessed a dreadful temper, a truly terrifying one.

During the previous discussion, as the Hidden Official, it was this very person who dared to disregard both Mount Tuoyue and the entire Wildlands, declaring that a fight was necessary. And now, the Wen Miao was actually following through!

Furthermore, as a disciple of the literary sage’s lineage, his actions were even more unrestrained than those of his senior brother, Zuo You.

Right under the noses of all the sages and worthies within the Wen Miao, he engaged Immortal Yun Miao in a fierce battle at Yuanyang Isle. It seemed Yun Miao had almost resorted to using the Nine Truths Immortal Hall’s treasure, a desperate act, not mere sparring. Unsatisfied, he then provoked the Shao Yuan Dynasty? He fought Jiang Longxiang not far from the city. And it was said that just moments ago, he had also battled Ma Quxian, the foremost disciple of Pei Bei. He used the way of pure martial artists to ask for a bout, which directly caused Ma Quxian to have his cultivation drop. Ma Quxian had only reached the ninth realm less than twenty years ago. As a result, his martial dao path, which had the potential to reach the pinnacle, was forcibly severed. Whether Ma Quxian could return to the ninth realm was now a significant question.

Three fights in succession, against a Qi refiner, a scholar, and a pure martial artist, all soundly trounced!

He was undeniably capable in battle, and his temper was undeniably bad.

The young Celestial Master from Dragon Tiger Mountain exclaimed in surprise, “It’s you?!”

They had encountered each other at an inn in the Night-Sailing Ship city. At the time, Zhao Yaoguang could never have imagined that he would casually meet Chen Shiyi, the Hidden Official of the Sword Qi Great Wall.

A lone leaf drifts into the vast ocean, meetings are fated everywhere in life.

Before descending the mountain, he had requested a fortune-telling, which yielded a favorable sign. It seemed to be true, as he was constantly encountering benefactors on this journey.

Just within the Wen Miao, there was Master Zuo, whose name he had long admired but never met. They had connected immediately, their conversation flowing effortlessly.

And now, there was the renowned Hidden Official. As for Ah Liang, he was not really a benefactor, more like a brother with whom he had shared hardships.

Chen Ping’an smiled, “Indeed, it’s me. I didn’t expect to meet you again so soon.”

This noble individual radiating mountain dao energy probably had no idea that the shopkeeper who sold them those items was actually Wu Shuangjiang.

Zhao Yaoguang made a Daoist salute, then offered another apology with a bright smile, “This humble Daoist was quite rude on the ferry last time. Mister Chen is magnanimous and will surely not hold it against me. But if Mister Chen insists on retribution, that’s fine too. When you visit Dragon Tiger Mountain in the future, I will surely bring out several jars of good wine, so Mister Chen can take it out on them.”

Chen Ping’an clasped his hands and replied with a smile, “To travel the Divine Continent of the Central Plains without visiting Dragon Tiger Mountain’s Celestial Master’s Residence would be like a wasted trip. However, let me state beforehand, the fanfare with gongs and drums is unnecessary.”

The Five Thunders Righteous Method of Dragon Tiger Mountain was undoubtedly the orthodox method under heavens, Chen Ping’an had long yearned to study it. He only hoped that during his next visit to the Celestial Master’s Residence, Dragon Tiger Mountain would allow him to read a few more books.

Zhao Yaoguang was taken aback. The sound of gongs and drums? What did he mean by that? Was the Hidden Official hinting that he should make the visit more lively and grand? The problem was, he wasn’t the current Celestial Master, so he couldn’t act recklessly. His ancestral master was still hale and hearty, looking even younger than him, capable of holding a man on his fist and letting a horse walk on his arm!

Seeing that the young Celestial Master didn’t understand, Chen Ping’an apologized, saying he was just spouting nonsense and shouldn’t be taken seriously.

Lin Junbi had to explain to his dim-witted friend, “Ah Liang once sneaked into Dragon Tiger Mountain. The way your Celestial Master’s Residence welcomes guests is supposedly quite extravagant, with constant thunder spells and a deafening cacophony of gongs and drums.”

Zhao Yaoguang immediately understood, laughing, “Absolutely not, absolutely not.”

Due to the Literary Sage, the Old Scholar, Dragon Tiger Mountain’s relationship with the Literary Sage’s lineage was not bad. As for Master Zuo’s swordplay from years ago, that was a personal matter between sword cultivators. Furthermore, that elder of the Celestial Master’s Residence, who was destined never to become a Sword Immortal, later focused on cultivating thunder spells, breaking through after suffering adversity. He gained good fortune from misfortune, and his Dao heart became pure, paving the way for a bright future. Whenever he drank with others, he didn’t shy away from mentioning his past tribulation, but rather enjoyed actively mentioning his bout with Master Zuo, always saying that he had endured a full eight swords from Zuo You, more than so-and-so sword embryo or such-and-such sword cultivator. What a remarkable feat, his expression filled with the heroic spirit of one who, though defeated, was still glorious.

The various groups drinking and chatting on the steps all had a similar impression at that moment.

This young Hidden Official who had returned to his homeland of the Great Domain seemed approachable, but that didn’t mean he was easy to provoke.

An old man among them took a large gulp of wine, glancing at the young man’s figure. Blue robe, sword on back, and still so young. The old man couldn’t help but sigh, “It’s good to be young.”

Chen Ping’an crossed the threshold with the two, entering the Wen Miao. He happened to sit in Ah Liang’s usual spot.

Learning that Ah Liang had already embarked on a long journey, Chen Ping’an gave up the idea of visiting the Lady of Green God Mountain. He had originally planned to apologize for the shop using Green God Mountain’s liquor as a front for so many years. He had also hoped to buy a few bamboo plants from the Lady since the little bamboo grove next to Wei Da Mountain Monarch’s residence couldn’t withstand the constant pilfering. He was constantly urged by the old cook, with Xiaomi Li constantly reminding him. As the mountain lord, Chen Ping’an’s conscience bothered him.

Discovering that his table was empty, all the wine and fruit having been swept away, had Ah Liang robbed the place and then run off?

Lu Zhi asked, “You’re making such a commotion, won’t the Wen Miao intervene?”

Chen Ping’an shook his head. “They won’t intervene. I’m acting within the bounds of propriety.”

Qi Tingji joked, “The sword at Yuanyang Isle, the fist at Ao’tou Mountain, all that’s left is to kick over Parrot Isle.”

Chen Ping’an laughed, “Sect Master Qi, you have a way with words.”

Lu Zhi said, “Will Pei Bei cause you trouble?”

If Pei Bei insisted on standing up for his disciple Ma Quxian, Chen Ping’an would definitely not gain any advantage.
Chen Ping’an said, “We’ll see. The boat will right itself when it reaches the bridge. If not, we’ll disembark and go ashore.”

Zuo You indifferently said, “Ma Qu Xian has a master, and you also have senior brothers. What are you afraid of? Jun Qian’s fists aren’t light either.”

Chen Ping’an turned his head and laughed, “Senior Brother asked about the sword and ascended twice in one go. The Old Master will surely be delighted when he finds out.”

No matter what happened at the Great Wall of Sword Qi, Senior Brother only mentioned that he hadn’t drawn his sword in the Central Earth Divine Continent for far too long.

Zuo You didn’t comment on this, only saying, “Regarding the matter of the Nine Truth Immortal Pavilion, Song Zi of Zhuolu has already apologized to me. He hopes you can visit the Zhuolu County Academy for a few days in the future and be responsible for teaching the students about military strategy.”

This is the benefit of having a master and senior brothers.

Chen Ping’an asked in confusion, “Song Zi of Zhuolu has invited the wrong person, hasn’t he? It would be better for Senior Brother to go than me.”

Zuo You glanced at Chen Ping’an.

Chen Ping’an immediately said, “If I have the opportunity, I will definitely go to Zhuolu to attend classes, but I must decline the task of lecturing at the academy.”

Zuo You nodded and stopped speaking, beginning to close his eyes to rest.

Lu Zhi asked curiously, “How old is that Pei Bei, exactly?”

Chen Ping’an replied, “If the official histories of the Grand End Dynasty aren’t lying, he’s not very old, less than two hundred years, I suppose.”

Lu Zhi said, “Then that means he’s over two hundred years old.”

Chen Ping’an was speechless. What kind of logic was this?

Afterward, Chen Ping’an and the Fire Dragon True Man inquired about Zhang Shanfeng’s recent situation through their minds and said that he was about to visit Mount Pa Di in the Northern Ju Lu Continent.

The Fire Dragon True Man laughed and said, “A visit is good, a visit is good indeed! You must go, kid. Shanfeng’s cultivation has been soaring these past years, unstoppable. He just came out of seclusion not long ago, you’ll definitely see him on this trip to the Northern Ju Lu Continent.”

It’s always good to have guests, as Mount Pa Di would receive entrance gifts. Mount Pa Di was still poor after all. It wasn’t to the point where they couldn’t make ends meet, but they weren’t a wealthy mountain either. They lacked confidence when speaking, and that was still the case in the Northern Ju Lu Continent. Money emboldens a hero. If he went to the皑皑洲, where immortal money was everywhere, wouldn’t he have to speak with his head bowed?

The Fire Dragon True Man always felt that his friends on the mountain were all clueless about etiquette. They relied on their age and had thick skin. They were all immortals cultivating on the mountain, yet they didn’t do their jobs properly. Other than being rich, he didn’t see how high their cultivation was. As for being family, who’s family with a bunch of old tortoises with bulging purses?

Therefore, every time he came out of seclusion, the Old True Man would ask Yuan Lingdian and the other direct disciples if they had made any new friends recently who could be invited to the mountain as guests. Unfortunately, they were all fools who didn’t understand his true intentions.

Chen Ping’an was relieved to hear that Zhang Shanfeng had just broken through. After hesitating for a long time, he cautiously mentioned to the Old True Man that he had encountered Liu Daochun of White Emperor City at Mandarin Duck Isle.

The Old True Man asked in confusion, “Liu Daochun? This poor Daoist has heard of him, but wasn’t he suppressed in the Treasure Bottle Continent by Zhao, the Celestial Master’s brother? When did he pop up? Brother Zhao, Brother Zhao, is there such a thing? How did Liu Daochun sneak out? Is Liu Daochun’s cultivation too high, or did your palm strike not land firmly enough back then, so the Celestial Master Seal didn’t do a proper job?”

Zhao Tianlai replied with a smile, “I’m not too sure. I suppose the Dao intent of the Celestial Master Seal dissipated over time. Besides, I didn’t go all out back then anyway. As for how Liu Daochun ended up at Mandarin Duck Isle, I have even less of an idea.”

In the past, when the Fire Dragon True Man was also the Great Celestial Master of the Dragon and Tiger Mountain, he would address him as “Old Celestial Master”. Now that he had relinquished the title, it was “Brother Zhao” all the time.

It seemed that the Dragon and Tiger Mountain’s refusal to let Zhang Shanfeng inherit the position still left the Fire Dragon True Man somewhat resentful.

Yu Xuan also sighed with emotion, “Yes, yes, the Dao intent in the path of talismans is difficult to preserve for long. It’s like this old Daoist’s talisman supporting a mountain. If I don’t actively remove it, it will loosen a little at most after a hundred or eight hundred years.”

Chen Ping’an’s scalp tingled as he listened to the three old Daoists chatting.

How could everyone hear his private conversation with the Fire Dragon True Man?

The Talisman Immortal and the Great Celestial Master would certainly not eavesdrop on conversations; they wouldn’t be so idle. Could it be that they were deducing and evolving from certain ripples in the River of Time?

Chen Ping’an could only take the initiative to greet the two seniors.

Zhao Tianlai smiled slightly, “The Hidden Official’s thunder technique at Mandarin Duck Isle was quite extraordinary.”

Yu Xuan smiled and squinted, “Throwing stones to hit people is a bit much, but it’s satisfying to watch.”

The Fire Dragon True Man continued to doze off.

“I once defeated millions of Sleep Demons, making my spirit even more vigorous.”

An old man and a young man left Parrot Isle and took a ferry to the mansion on Ao Tou Mountain.

It was because the young emperor wanted to ride this simple ferry. His reason was sufficient: he could see more foreign cultivators, and maybe there would be a hidden expert like the Hidden Official among them. Then, upon seeing that he had extraordinary bones, he would take him as a disciple. Finally, upon learning that he was an emperor, he would have to miss out on a rare cultivating genius. The expert would leave in disappointment, regretting it for the rest of his life, and every time he thought about it on the mountain, he would shed a tear of sorrow…

However, when Yuan Zhou boarded the ship, he found that no one paid him any attention.

Yuan Zhou stood by the railing and said, “Grandpa Yu, I always feel like something’s not right with this deal.”

Yuan Zhou, as the Xuan Mi Emperor, did not participate in the second council meeting.

Yu Panshui’s reason was that His Majesty was too young, and his popularity was too high, so the wind could easily blow his head off.

Therefore, it was the result of his hard work in pleading with the Confucian Temple. If His Majesty felt stifled, he should endure it. Of course, Yuan Zhou was willing to endure it. The Xuan Mi Yuan clan had only established the country for a few years, and he couldn’t be the last emperor.

Yu Panshui laughed and said, “Something’s not right? Why didn’t you say so earlier? No one sewed up His Majesty’s mouth, did they?”

Yuan Zhou said, “I’m an emperor, after all. The words I speak and the water I spill are all imperial decrees. If I really go back on my word, I’ll be looked down upon by the Hidden Official for nothing. That would be an even bigger loss.”

On the way here, they had both agreed to half-sell and half-give away that Fengyuan ferry, as if the imperial treasury didn’t have that thing at all.

The Xuan Mi Dynasty had established a connection with Fallen Phoenix Mountain, and the two sides even had some private friendships, all in moderation.

In any case, half of this favor would ultimately be counted on Yu Panshui, so he had instigated the emperor to come.
In the end, not only did the Emperor Yuan Zhou generously gift a transcontinental ship, but the Xuanmi Dynasty seemed inclined to foot the bill for the wind chime’s repairs.

Even as Yu Panshui boarded the ship and left Parrot Isle, he still felt a bit… cheated? If you’re going to take out a loan, shouldn’t you at least specify when you’ll repay it? We didn’t ask, and you just didn’t mention it? Is that how you conduct yourself when you owe money?

And then you have the gall to say, “To refuse would be disrespectful, to accept excessive”?

Yu Panshui clutched his hand-worn trinket, vigorously rubbing it against his increasingly charming, aged face. He reminisced about the little girl, Pei Qian, who had visited his home years ago. She seemed so honest and simple, a well-behaved and polite child. If it weren’t for the old scholar’s shameless interference, that priceless miniature item would have been successfully returned to his possession, completing its circuit back into his grasp.

How could the ungreedy Pei Qian end up with such a miserly master?

Yuan Zhou surveyed his surroundings and, apropos of nothing, remarked, “Grandpa Yu, it seems there’s so little yellow out here.”

At home, within the palace, it was different. Ever since he could remember, the young emperor’s mind was filled with yellow whenever he thought of that place. The towering rooftops, stretching as far as the eye could see, were all a dazzling yellow. The clothes he wore, the cushions he sat on, the dishes he used on the table, the swaying sedan chair that carried him between high walls – everything was yellow. It was as if only that single color existed in the world.

Other colors did exist. For example, there was a black-colored library in the palace, filled with precious books that the young emperor would never touch, and that outsiders would never see.

As for the colors worn by the generals and ministers, they were like streams flowing in circles, coming and going in his home day after day, perpetually repeating. Often, old men would speak childishly, and young men would utter profound words. And he would sit on that chair, feigning understanding, looking at Yu the Fatty whenever he encountered an overwhelming event.

Many grizzled old officials, when Yu the Fatty wasn’t around, would subtly hint things to the young emperor, the would-be Tai Shang Huang of the Xuanmi Dynasty. Yuan Zhou understood, but he pretended not to. Some of the old men genuinely wanted what was best for him, while others were thinking about how Yu Panshui’s departure from the court would create openings for them. But Yuan Zhou ignored them all, at most feigning anger or a hint of tears to humor them. It was all so troublesome. He even reminded the eunuchs of the Directorate of Ceremonial to mention his little performance to Grandpa Yu later.

What was the point of all this fuss? What good would it do him? Yu Panshui wouldn’t become emperor, and the Xuanmi Dynasty would undoubtedly need the support of the Yu family. So, a mere child like him shouldn’t stir up unnecessary trouble.

The old apricot tree in the palace, which had lived for seven or eight centuries, was said to have been planted by a founding emperor of the dynasty before the previous one. Every autumn, the ground beneath it would be carpeted with golden leaves. But every year, the fallen leaves were followed by new green ones.

The deeply rooted Yu clan of Zhongtu was like an evergreen, never shedding its leaves.

Yu Panshui, in a rare display of kindness, touched the boy’s head and said softly, “It’s hard being in charge.”

The boy tilted his head and grumbled, “You dare touch the emperor’s head?”

Yu Panshui laughed heartily and patted the boy’s face. “I’m in a good mood, accompanying you on this trip, so you can choose your own empress in the future. Whether she’s surnamed Yu or not, it doesn’t matter.”

Yuan Zhou stomped his foot and said, “I heard that Yu Juanfu and Yu Qingqing, the two most beautiful Yu sisters, are already promised to others. Who will be left for me to choose then? Huh?!”

Yu Panshui smiled and said, “I know that Qingqing is fond of Lin Junbi. As for Juanfu, I heard that she and the Hidden Official exchanged blows twice near the Sword Qi Great Wall. Hehe, do you understand, Your Majesty?”

Yuan Zhou clapped his hands together and exclaimed, “Sister Juanfu, no, sister-in-law, no, little sister-in-law has a good eye!”

Yu Panshui slapped the little brat upside the head, leaving him dazed.

Meanwhile, in Panshui County…

A young scholar, looking shabby and impoverished, sought out a great cultivator of the Ascension Realm who was recovering from his injuries.

Despite suffering severe wounds in the vicinity of Zuo You, Jing Hao, the Qinggong Taibao, had not left, seemingly waiting for justice from the Confucian Temple.

The cultivator who had blocked Zuo You’s path, then fled, and then apologized, was the first to run back to the mansion and stand guard as a doorkeeper.

It was nothing to be ashamed of, a Jade Purity Realm cultivator guarding the home of a great Ascension Realm cultivator.

Most of the other hangers-on had scattered like birds and beasts, claiming that they didn’t want to hinder the healing of the esteemed Elder Jing.

However, before the Jade Purity Realm cultivator could react, he fell to the ground unconscious. Before blacking out, he vaguely saw a green-robed figure brush past him.

The courtyard was elegant and quiet, with a cluster of lush green banana trees, so plump they seemed to drip with moisture.

Jing Hao walked out of the house and looked at the young scholar standing in the courtyard. He couldn’t discern the depth of the other’s cultivation, which meant he was likely of an extremely high realm.

The uninvited guest seemed to be at leisure, tiptoeing and plucking a banana leaf, flicking it lightly.

Having learned from Zuo You’s encounter with questioning swords, Jing Hao didn’t rush to anger. He smiled gently and said, “Welcome, Daoist friend. I apologize for not greeting you properly.”

Chen Zhuoliu looked at the Qinggong Taibao, known as the one whose术法 (Shu Fa – roughly translated to art of spells) was peerless in the Liuxia Continent, and shook his head. “The Qinggong Mountain sect has truly declined with each generation. You’re becoming more and more incompetent.”

Jing Hao smiled faintly and said, “Does Daoist friend have some past connection with the founding master of our Qinggong Mountain?”

Chen Zhuoliu didn’t bother to beat around the bush with this fellow. “Did your master hang a portrait of me in her house?”

Without another word, the Qinggong Taibao bowed deeply and didn’t rise, his voice trembling slightly, whether from excitement or awe. “Junior Jing Hao greets Immortal Chen.”

To be respectfully addressed as Immortal by an Ascension Realm cultivator, one could only be a Great cultivator of the Fourteenth Realm, or at the very least, an Ascension Realm Sword Cultivator.

A Sword Cultivator.

The one who slew the dragon.

Zheng Juzhong of Baidi City’s mentor.
This secret of the sect was unknown to even Jing Hao’s senior brothers and sisters. It was his master who told him before her passing, her expression complex as she revealed a shocking truth to Jing Hao: this Green Palace Mountain beneath their feet belonged to another, merely borrowed to her. It had never truly belonged to their sect. That man had taken several disciples, the most famous of whom was Zheng Huaixian of White Emperor City. If Green Palace Mountain ever faced disaster, he was to take this painting down the mountain and seek him out. If he couldn’t find him, then find Zheng Huaixian.

Jing Hao was the only son of a pair of ancestral hall dao partners of Green Palace Mountain. When he was but a child, his parents, whose cultivation talent was not exceptional, begged and pleaded, finally securing him a direct disciple status from his master, the previous mountain lord.

Later, after formally becoming master and disciple, and because he was young, he was able to visit his master’s residence several times, where he saw a hanging portrait of a man, along with a poem. Perhaps because the painting’s material was too coarse, the writing was faded and incomplete, missing many characters.

“Green robes smile beyond the white clouds… The wild plum is so thin its shadow seems nonexistent…”

When Jing Hao was a teenager, he once asked an older senior sister about this. The senior sister guessed that its general meaning was that someone had gone down the mountain for a long journey, leaving behind a beautiful woman to live alone in the mountains, withering and becoming gaunt.

Tracing back two generations of Jing Hao’s lineage, his grandmaster was actually a wild mountain hermit, roaming the world. He had stood atop a mountain peak for a thousand years, yet had never found a suitable place to settle down. It was said that later, his master had great fortune and helped his grandmaster find this Green Palace Mountain. Then he began to establish a sect, accumulating merit at the Confucian temple, entering the ranks of the sects, branching out and multiplying, eventually becoming the top immortal mansion on Mount Flowing Hues, and now even firmly holding the leading position.

For over three thousand years, Green Palace Mountain had been relatively smooth sailing, so Jing Hao had never had the opportunity to take the painting down the mountain.

Jing Hao had long designated his master’s cultivation place as a forbidden area of the sect. Besides arranging for a nimble female cultivator to occasionally clean there, even Jing Hao himself had never set foot in it.

Chen Zhuoliu sneered, “Am I here to visit relatives today? To ask a worthless junior for a few kowtows?”

Jing Hao lightly flicked his sleeves and knelt on the ground, prostrating himself, his forehead lightly touching the ground three times, “This junior will cede Green Palace Mountain to Immortal Lord Chen.”

Jing Hao’s master, and that grandmaster in history who had once been among the top ten figures of the Vast Brightness, were both Ascension Realm cultivators, especially the latter, a true legend from a wild cultivation background in the Central Earth Divine Continent.

This was the true mountain inheritance.

When Jing Hao took over Green Palace Mountain, it wasn’t bad either, cultivating smoothly to the Ascension Realm.

However, the current sect leader of Green Palace Mountain, or rather the former mountain lord, was much inferior. In this life, he would only be an Immortal. He had now received Jing Hao’s decree and had gone into closed-door cultivation to reflect on his mistakes. When Jing Hao returned to Green Palace Mountain this time, he would have to issue another decree for this disciple who spoke without thinking. A useless thing who dared to smear his own master?

Those direct disciples of his, the highest realm of which was only Jade Purity, their future achievements on the great dao may not even surpass him.

Therefore, the blue-robed scholar in front of him, who was neither carrying a sword nor wearing a sword, was absolutely right when he said that their Green Palace Mountain was getting worse with each generation.

As for Jing Hao’s master, she was quite pitiful in the last thousand years of her cultivation career. With no hope of breaking through, and suffering severe injuries from a mountain feud, she had to turn to unorthodox paths. Her cultivation failed to completely sever the Three Corpses. Only refining to the Pure Yang Realm could she barely avoid the calamity of dissolution. With a clear and spiritual thought, she could enter the underworld. Her form and spirit were in harmony with the ancient Earth Immortals, but eventually she could not withstand the year-after-year erosion of the river of time, and her form dissipated into the heavens and earth.

She passed down a technique of Throwing Sword for Green Palace Mountain, specially tailored for Qi Refiners who were not sword cultivators, but stipulated that only one disciple in each generation of Green Palace Mountain could study this sword technique.

From the smallest flowers, plants, and trees, to the largest rivers, mountains, and peaks, everything could be “thrown like a flying sword.”

In fact, earlier at the bamboo forest thatched hut, Dou Fenxia’s throwing of stones and bamboo leaves was using this Throwing Sword technique.

Of course, it was all originally passed down by Chen Zhuoliu. Having played in the mortal world for thousands of years, the one who slayed the dragon was not only in the same situation as Jia Sheng and Bai Mang.

After straightening up, Jing Hao continued to kneel on the ground.

Chen Zhuoliu tutted, “No wonder that silly girl chose you to be the mountain lord. Your person isn’t much, but you are clever. Get up, kneeling on the ground for too long, doesn’t your knees hurt?”

Only then did Jing Hao stand up.

He could not help but be so humble in front of this person.

Regardless of sword questioning, no matter how high his sword skills were, he would only question Jing Hao alone.

But this unpredictable senior in front of him could turn the entire Green Palace Mountain and hundreds of cultivators upside down with a wave of his hand.

Chen Zhuoliu temporarily changed his mind and instructed, “You can keep Green Palace Mountain, but in the future, a friend of mine may come to visit there. Remember to treat him well. If you are discourteous, I will hold you accountable. Oh, and that disciple of yours who is in confinement, I think he is not bad, just let him continue to be his mountain lord. If you don’t want to, then forget it.”

“Willing, it is his good fortune that this junior has a disciple who has the honor of catching the eye of the Immortal Lord, and it is even more Jing Hao’s honor.”

As the senior was about to leave, Jing Hao hurriedly bowed and cupped his fists, “May I ask the name of the Immortal Lord’s mountain friend, and does he have a daoist title? Lest this junior should meet the real person in the future but not recognize him.”

Chen Zhuoliu strode away, laughing, “My good brother is in the form of a blue-robed child, his daoist title is Little Dragon King of Fallen Mountain. You will recognize him at a glance when you see him in the future.”

Jing Hao kept his head down, and said in a deep voice: “This junior will obey the Immortal Lord’s decree!”

When the blue-robed scholar suddenly disappeared, Jing Hao continued to bow for a moment, slowly stood up, a Ascention Realm whose “meridians are like golden branches and jade leaves, and his dao body is almost flawless” was involuntarily sweating profusely.

However, Jing Hao couldn’t help but wonder in his heart, which old senior on the mountain was that “Little Dragon King”?

A group of people left the Parrot Island residence and walked to the ferry, Li Baoping prepared to take the ferry to the Confucian Temple to copy the Xiping Stone Classics.

Li Huai’s head ached when he heard this, but he didn’t dare to refuse, so he thought of buying a few copies from the classicists and fooling his way through, promising to read them more often in the future.

Before leaving the residence, Liu Chicheng took out a unique Colorful Cloud Note of White Emperor City, wrote an invitation letter on it, and placed it on the table.
“Of course, I must extend an invitation to that ‘Eight Coppers’ lass whose name I still don’t know, to visit the Glazed Pavilion in White Emperor City at her leisure. Your Liu brother will surely welcome her with open arms!”

Li Huai, sprawled beside the table, shook his head disapprovingly as he read this. Mustering his courage, he advised the esteemed Senior Liu to be less straightforward in his letter. The wording was too blunt, lacking finesse and subtlety.

As they awaited the ferry, Liu Chicheng displayed not a hint of surprise at Chen Ping’an’s sudden disappearance. “Come and go like a whirlwind, that busybody.”

The young Daoist scoffed, “So young, yet already burdened with endless worries and toiling away like a beast of burden. Who knows what he’s even busy with all day?”

Li Huai grumbled, “To say such things about my brother to his face, you’re not giving me any face, old-timer! If you keep doing things like that in the martial world, you’ll find it hard to eat or drink well.”

The young Daoist instantly bowed his head, his face creased in a servile smile as he spoke softly and smoothly, “Young Master, wasn’t I just praising Chen Ping’an’s sense of responsibility in a roundabout way? There’s more than meets the eye to my words!”

Gu Qingsong arrived in a flash of wind manipulation, his figure landing with a thunderous boom, whipping up a gale that sent many Qi cultivators waiting for the ferry sprawling.

However, upon recognizing the newcomer’s face, they all pretended to admire the river scenery, hastily retreating and keeping a safe distance.

The old ferryman surveyed the scene and concluded that only the seemingly naive Hao Ran Daoist was worthy of a few words. As for that dandy Liu Daochun from White Emperor City, what was he even posturing about? Why not just become a woman and marry Zheng Juzhong!

Gu Qingsong impatiently demanded, “Young Daoist, where’s that brat? Where did he grease his soles and scurry off to?”

The young Daoist’s spirits lifted upon hearing this. He addressed his fellow cultivator with a cheerful demeanor, “Fellow Daoist Gu, you’re talking about that youngster, right? He vanished in the blink of an eye. Who knows where he went? Are you looking for him? If it’s not urgent, I can pass on a message.”

Gu Qingsong cursed inwardly. That little rascal, daring to hide from him!

Li Baoping gazed at the increasingly foul-mouthed old man.

Gu Qingsong noticed her gaze, and he restrained himself, albeit reluctantly. After all, she was just a young girl, and a pleasing sight to behold at that. Such a spirited and charming girl was a rare find. Thus, the old ferryman only unleashed less than one-tenth of his power, saying, “What are you gawking at?!”

But as soon as he spoke, Gu Qingsong felt a tinge of…

He sensed that he had overlooked something crucial, yet he couldn’t quite grasp what it was. It was just beyond his reach, like trying to catch the moon’s reflection in the water.

Liu Chicheng couldn’t help but shiver. He hesitated, then quickly dismissed the thought, deciding to emulate his old friend, Long Bo: better to sacrifice a fellow Daoist than oneself.

*Damn it*, he thought, *once I return to Panshui County, I’ll have to ask Brother Long Bo to teach me the Water-Cleaving Divine Art*.

Li Baoping shifted her gaze and called out, “Brother.”

A Confucian scholar had arrived.

Li Xisheng.

Gu Qingsong, or rather Xiancha, stood dumbfounded and speechless.

He had suspicions about certain matters, but he dared not dwell on them.

If his guess was correct, then this scholar, whom he had previously met, would be his master’s half-brother.

The Grand Master of Jade Capital Peak, on behalf of his master, had accepted and imparted teachings to two junior brothers, Yu Dou and Lu Chen.

Li Xisheng smiled and asked, “Xiancha, what were you saying just now?”

Gu Qingsong remained silent, staring blankly.

Li Baoping interjected, “Brother, Senior has always been like this, it’s nothing.”

Li Xisheng turned to Little Baoping and nodded with a smile.

The smile he gave Gu Qingsong earlier was, of course, vastly different from the warm and gentle smile he gave Li Baoping.

Li Huai respectfully bowed and greeted, “Greetings, Mr. Li.”

Li Xisheng chuckled, “Li Huai, as long as you don’t deliberately harbor ill intentions, everything will be fine.”

Li Huai was confused but still nodded. It didn’t matter if he didn’t understand; he would just do as he was told. He was Li Baoping’s elder brother, a scholar, and from the same hometown. He wouldn’t harm him.

Within and without books, there were countless principles in the world. But grasping one or two firmly was more useful than remembering them all in your mind or simply knowing them in your speech.

Li Xisheng then addressed Xiancha with a voice transmission, “There was a reason for removing some of your thoughts earlier. The truth is complex, and further explanation is futile. Now that things have come to this, I won’t repeat the same trick. But in the future, when you encounter my little sister again, I must trouble you to take a detour.”

Gu Qingsong straightened his back and replied with utmost respect, “Not at all! How could I be troubled!”

The old ferryman wasn’t afraid of the man’s status, but genuinely respected him.

To inspire fear in the world, all one needed was a strong fist.

But to earn respect, especially the respect of cultivators from various realms, high cultivation alone was not enough.

This was why the old ferryman held the Taihui Sword Sect’s Liu Jinglong from the Northern Culmination Continent in such high regard.

Otherwise, even if the Second Senior Uncle, Yu Dou, the so-called Invincible One, stood here, Gu Qingsong would still be unafraid, he asked himself.

Gu Qingsong had even prepared a speech in his mind. Whenever he went to Jade Capital Peak in the Azure Vault, and encountered Yu Dou, the first question he would ask him face-to-face would be: “Second Senior Uncle, you reached the Capture and Release Pavilion back then. Why didn’t you just go and fight Chen Qingdu? Was it out of respect for that elder swordsman, or were you simply no match for him?”

The old ferryman made a Daoist salutation.

The scholar returned a Confucian bow.

Gu Qingsong took his leave, but instead of manipulating the wind to depart, he tossed a leaf into the water, transforming it into a small boat that drifted downstream. Since he couldn’t find Chen Ping’an, he would hurry back to accompany Lady Gui, lest she be unhappy.

Li Xisheng walked to Li Baoping’s side and said softly, “You were making a scene back at the house. Be more careful in the future.”

Li Baoping replied, “With Junior Uncle here, what do I have to fear?”

Li Xisheng chuckled, “Yes, yes, yes. It seems that your elder brother’s presence is of no importance whatsoever.”

Li Baoping’s eyes crinkled into a smile.

Liu Chicheng was filled with envy. If he had such an elder brother, he could lounge around not only in the Great Wide World, but even the Azure Vault!

Li Xisheng turned and asked, “Pavilion Master Liu, shall we have a chat?”

Liu Chicheng’s heartstrings tightened, and he feigned ignorance. “My senior brother is at Panshui County. How about I lead Mr. Li there?”

He would never chat with this Grand Master. If he wanted to chat, he could find his senior brother. Once they reached Panshui County, they could chat about anything they wanted: chess skills, Daoist arts, immortality, the knowledge of the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Realms. It was all the same to him.

Li Xisheng smiled, “Very well.”
Liu Chicheng was as if dragged away, arcing through the air for an incredibly long distance, directly from Parrot Isle to a residence within Panshui County. He crashed heavily to the ground, lying there in a daze.

Li Xisheng then heard a voice in his mind and replied in kind, “Very well. A hundred years hence, in White Emperor City and Jade Capital, I shall play a game of chess with Mister Zheng.”

Then, with a smile, Li Xisheng looked towards that unruly young Daoist.

The young Daoist was consumed with regret. He should never, ever, have eavesdropped on that conversation.

Such words were not to be spoken to just anyone regarding Zheng Juzhong. This was like someone at the Sword Qi Great Wall declaring a desire to cross swords with Chen Qingdu, and Chen Qingdu agreeing. It was roughly the same principle. As for who was who, or whether it was truly Chen Qingdu, did it matter to him, Tao Ting? Of course not. Either way, it meant being casually cut down by a few sword strikes from the wilderness, and that would be that.

Li Xisheng smiled faintly. “The character ‘man’ is easily written, but being one is difficult. Daoist Tao Ting must be more cautious.”

Li Huai knew that this “old youth” beside him was up to no good again. He nudged the young Daoist’s ribs with his elbow and whispered, “Behave yourself.”

The young Daoist said, somewhat sheepishly, “True, true. One must be more proper.”

Li Xisheng chuckled.

The young Daoist breathed a sigh of relief.

The ferry docked, and the group boarded. The young Daoist stood obediently beside Li Huai, feeling safer near his young master.

Earlier, Han Qiaose of White Emperor City had arrived at Parrot Isle, riding the wind. She had visited Sack Emporium and purchased a rare treasure suitable for ghost cultivators, a mountain treasure of considerable value. The item was excellent, but terribly expensive. As a result, she hadn’t managed to resell it yet.

Furthermore, near the Literary Temple, a cultivator openly acquiring a powerful item for ghost cultivation was, after all, somewhat inappropriate, a violation of taboos.

However, when Han Qiaose took a fancy to the item and bought it, no one found it the least bit strange. This junior sister of the White Emperor City Lord was known for her diverse array of techniques. She, Liu Qi, and Crown Prince Jing Hao of the Green Palace followed a similar path of cultivation: high realm, many techniques, vast divine powers. As long as the difference in strength wasn’t too great, a cultivator with more varied methods would naturally have the advantage in a friendly exchange of Dao techniques.

Compared to the various upheavals around the Literary Temple, Han Qiaose’s action was like a tiny ripple in the water, attracting no attention whatsoever.

Han Qiaose returned to her residence in Panshui County and casually tossed the item to Gu Can, who was still playing chess alone. She asked, “Can’t seem to let go of Scroll Mountain Lake?”

Gu Can shook his head and chuckled. “Just putting on an act, for my own benefit.”

Han Qiaose didn’t even find anything contradictory in that statement.

The madman Gu Can of others’ perception was, in Han Qiaose’s eyes, a beautifully brilliant jade.

Gu Can slowly gathered the chess pieces. Not only was he slow at playing, but even returning the pieces to their box was slow, to the point that Han Qiaose felt impatient on his behalf.

Then, suddenly, a figure in a pink robe descended from the sky, crashing to the ground. Liu Chicheng immediately feigned death. Han Qiaose glanced outside. “Oh, Junior Brother isn’t running to Senior Brother to complain this time?”

Liu Chicheng mumbled, “Leave me alone. I’m enjoying the scenery.”

In another courtyard of the residence, Zheng Juzhong stood under the eaves, with his eldest disciple, Fu Jin, standing beside him.

Zheng Juzhong smiled faintly. “A halo around the moon foretells wind, damp foundations indicate rain. The situation in the world is becoming increasingly clear.”

By not attending the council meeting by the river, Zheng Juzhong could deduce even more threads than if he had gone.

Zheng Juzhong glanced at the sky and relaxed slightly.

Fu Jin spoke. “Master, I wish to learn from Dong Sangeng and travel alone through the wilderness, which may take at least a century.”

The implication was that he would disregard his master’s and White Emperor City’s plans, relying on his sword and sharpening his cultivation. As for the coming clash between the two worlds, he would only draw his sword as the situation warranted.

Zheng Juzhong nodded. “Why not? A skilled fisherman seeks enjoyment, an unskilled one seeks fish.”

In the wilderness, the Golden Emerald City had quietly changed hands. The immortal female cultivator and City Lord, Yuan Hu, had done so willingly, and the matter was kept extremely secret.

Zheng Juzhong of White Emperor City…

Had taken a city for the Great Harmony World.