Chen Pingan uncorked his Sword-Nurturing Gourd, took a swig, and glanced at the plaque above the mountain gate archway, commenting, “The calligraphy is unremarkable, not even as pleasing as the apricot blossoms by the roadside.”

This sect was named Locking Clouds, situated in the north-central region of Beiju Luzhou, renowned for subduing demons, crafting mountain incense, and painting door gods.

The immortal sects of Beiju Luzhou were unique among the Nine Continents of Haoran. Every household painstakingly fortified their ancestral hall with arrays, unlike the other continents where emphasis lay on maintaining a sect-protecting array or erecting a symbolic mountain-water barrier around the ancestral hall.

Liu Jinglong transmitted his thoughts, “What’s the plan now?”

This was Liu Jinglong’s first time questioning a sect’s ancestral hall. His original idea was to remain airborne, delivering a few sword strikes from afar, cleaving the hall in two, and then returning home.

He had already detailed the Locking Clouds Sect’s ancestral hall array and the mountain-water restrictions on the main peaks during their journey here.

However, Chen Pingan disagreed, retorting, “I accompanied you on this long journey, only to strike a couple of times and flee? Are you drunk, Liu Wine Immortal?”

Chen Pingan stated, “What plan? We ascend the mountain, and we’ll draw our swords only when we reach the entrance of the ancestral hall.”

Liu Jinglong’s natal sword was among the strangest Chen Pingan had ever seen. Its Sword Intent was “Rules,” a name that implied its formidable nature.

Moreover, “Rules” could form its own miniature world, seemingly capable of controlling Chen Pingan’s “Caged Bird” and “Moon in the Well.” Comparing oneself to others was infuriating. Thankfully, they were friends, and Chen Pingan couldn’t outdrink him, so he endured.

Liu Jinglong reminded him, “I can accompany you to Nourishing Cloud Peak, but remember to restrain your fists and feet.”

Chen Pingan reattached the Sword-Nurturing Gourd to his waist and smiled, “I’m aware.”

Before them lay the ancestral mountain of the Locking Clouds Sect, a peculiar sight. It resembled a section of withered wood, jagged and uneven. Halfway up, the mountain body abruptly ended, leaving only one side spiraling upwards, forming several peaks of varying heights. One resembled a brush rest, lush green, as if lingzhi mushrooms were sprouting. A cliff carving proclaimed “Little Azure Mushroom Mountain.” Another peak was precipitous, with a hole at its summit, resembling a celestial moon hanging in the sky. The ancestral hall of the Locking Clouds Sect was located on the central and tallest peak, named Nourishing Cloud Peak.

The most senior ancestor of the sect, an immortal realm cultivator, was named Wei Jingcui, with the daoist title Flying Azure.

The current sect master, Yang Que, was in the Jade Purity realm, with the daoist title Official Plum. There was also a ninth-stage martial artist serving as the chief guest elder, Cui Gongzhuang, whose whereabouts were currently unknown.

It was a major sect.

Besides the two upper five realm cultivators, there were several well-known earth immortal cultivators on each peak.

Chen Pingan probed, “With so many formidable foes on the mountain, do you truly not need a drink to calm your nerves?”

Liu Jinglong chuckled, “I have a mountain of old debts. I generally refrain from cursing.”

Wei Yeyou of Eastern Treasure Continent, Liu Wine Immortal of Beiju Luzhou.

Ultimately, who was to blame?

Chen Pingan patted Liu Jinglong on the shoulder, “Right, don’t curse randomly. We are both scholars. Drunken cursing is a taboo at the drinking table; it makes it easy to remain single.”

Chen Pingan had altered his appearance to resemble an old man, donning a randomly acquired Daoist robe and a lotus crown. He approached the gatekeeper, made a Daoist salute, and stated directly, “I am Chen Haoren, alias Invincible. This disciple beside me is Liu Daoli, lacking a Daoist title. We are aimless wanderers who happened to arrive here. We are accustomed to straight paths, and your Locking Clouds Sect’s ancestral mountain happens to obstruct our way. Therefore, this humble Daoist and his unworthy disciple must dismantle your ancestral hall. Please inform the sect to avoid any discourtesy.”

The gatekeeper, a youthful-looking Guanhai realm cultivator despite his age and experience, was dumbfounded.

The old Daoist spoke fluent Beiju Luzhou dialect, so the words were clear, but the combination of them was utterly absurd. The gatekeeper was too stunned to be angry. He chuckled, finding it amusing. Who were these two fools?

Liu Jinglong regretted accompanying Chen Pingan to question the sect.

As a native of Beiju Luzhou, Liu Jinglong was familiar with the concept of challenging ancestral halls.

Moreover, the Taihui Sword Sect had been challenged by sword immortals and martial art grandmasters several times. The senior ancestors had little trouble repelling them, but the repairs often left them exhausted. The younger disciples celebrated like it was New Year’s, eagerly anticipating their turn to cause a ruckus elsewhere.

Liu Jinglong had heard that his master and senior brother Huang, the enforcer, used to sneak out together when they were younger. They would often be punished upon their return, receiving lectures from the ancestral master about how Taihui sword cultivators, especially direct disciples, should cultivate their minds with clarity and face challenges with integrity, not through sneaky behavior. He would conclude by saying their swordplay was weak and effeminate, embarrassing.

However, Chen Pingan’s approach to challenging the ancestral hall was unprecedented. It was an eye-opener.

Chen Pingan seriously inquired, “Before ascending the mountain, I must ask clearly. According to your customs, how many tables should we set up at the village entrance? How many people per table?”

The gatekeeper was bewildered. Although his duty called, and he wanted to hear more jokes, he waved his hand dismissively and sneered, “Get lost, stop acting crazy here.”

The old Daoist seemed troubled, stroking his beard in thought. The gatekeeper lightly kicked a pebble, sending it towards the old man’s calf.

The old Daoist stumbled, looked around, and exclaimed in exasperation, “Who is it? If you have the guts, don’t hide in the dark and injure people with flying swords! Show yourself! You insignificant sword cultivator, how dare you plot against this Daoist?!”

Liu Jinglong covered his forehead with his fist, unable to watch or listen. He wished he had drank more wine at Pianran Peak.
The gatekeeper felt a surge of confidence. His bearing became majestic, his walk powerful and imposing. He strode up to the old Daoist and thrust a palm fiercely towards his chest, thinking, *Just lie down obediently.*

Daring to cause trouble at the Cloud Lock Sect’s gate, who knew who had eaten a bear’s gall bladder! He used a clever technique in this strike. Inner disciples of the Cloud Lock Sect all had the opportunity to learn some martial arts from the esteemed Guest Elder Cui, whose fists could suppress several nations. This palm strike was called “Heart-Piercing Gate,” one of Grandmaster Cui’s famous techniques, specifically designed to deal with Qi cultivators on the mountain.

Although this gatekeeper was a Daoist practitioner, not a pure martial artist, he had only learned the basics. However, the beauty of this technique lay in the fact that the injury would not be immediately apparent. After a few hours, the force of the strike would erupt like a flood, unstoppable, using the cultivator’s spiritual energy as a training ground, as if overturning rivers and seas. Since it had such wondrous effects, the gatekeeper struck without holding back. Anyway, the old Daoist was only injured at the foot of the mountain. If he died suddenly far away, what did it have to do with the Cloud Lock Sect?

There was a loud *thump*.

The old Daoist’s feet left the ground, and he flew backward, sliding a series of steps before barely stopping himself.

Liu Jinglong said in his mind, “It’s Guest Elder Cui Gongzhuang’s Heart-Piercing Gate.”

Chen Ping’an smiled, patted his Daoist robe, and nodded. “The fist intent is not bad. I hope this person is on the mountain tonight. Actually, I also learned a few fist techniques specifically for pure martial artists, but I was too embarrassed to use them when sparring with Cao Ci. All right, I have a better idea now. Let’s go up the mountain.”

Chen Ping’an led Liu Jinglong straight towards the mountain gate archway. The gatekeeper was not stupid and became suspicious. He secretly took out two yellow paper talismans with door gods drawn on them from his sleeve. “Stop! Take another step forward, and people will die!”

The two ignored him. The Sea Gazing Realm cultivator had to perform a hand seal and throw the talismans. Two towering door gods, over ten feet tall and clad in colorful armor, landed with a crash, blocking the way. The cultivator used his mind to command the door gods to capture the two, not caring whether they lived or died.

Chen Ping’an casually waved his sleeve, and the mountain gate was instantly empty.

The cultivator hurriedly offered a messenger talisman, throwing it into the air. A dazzling white rainbow rose from the mountain gate. According to the Cloud Lock Sect’s rules, if a Sword Immortal came to challenge the mountain from the mountain gate, a colored talisman was required. The next level was a scarlet scroll, and only then a white rainbow talisman.

Chen Ping’an turned his head and joked, “They really aren’t giving you any face.”

Liu Jinglong said, “I don’t have a Daoist title yet, and I’m still a disciple. Why would they give me face?”

Chen Ping’an flicked his finger and shattered the white rainbow talisman that had just risen into the air. The gatekeeper was shocked and hurriedly switched to a scarlet scroll talisman. However, just as the talisman’s light soared into the sky, before it reached even halfway up the mountain, it was intercepted by the old Daoist, who didn’t even turn his head. He raised his arm behind him, pinched a sword gesture with two fingers, and dissipated it into smoke.

The gatekeeper’s face changed unpredictably. He still didn’t dare to use the colored talisman without authorization, because once it was used, it would implicate the sect and immediately activate the Ancestral Hall’s formation to defend against a Sword Immortal’s challenge. The cultivator tapped his toes and leaped forward, raising a palm. His palm was crystal clear, with light flowing through it. A spell condensed between his fingers, turning water energy into a ten-foot-long dragon, which surged out fiercely towards the “young Daoist’s” back. This was the gatekeeper’s trump card, a lifelong skill. Only then did the cultivator shout angrily, “You thieving Daoist dares to break into the mountain, truly seeking death!”

This technique splashed against an invisible wall like water against a wall, then dissolved like a few ice cubes thrown into a large charcoal furnace.

The cultivator’s eyes widened. He gritted his teeth, stepped according to a specific pattern, and used a hand seal, offering his natal object: a jade mountain carving with a group of Chi dragon knobs, as if six Chi dragons were coiled in the mountain. He was able to serve as the Cloud Lock Sect’s gatekeeper. Even if his realm was not high, he still had some skill. The cultivator was reluctant to use the desperate means of helping the Chi dragons “open their eyes” with his own vital essence, as it would damage his soul. The gatekeeper hurriedly lowered his head, bit his finger, and pointed at the six places on the jade mountain one by one. Suddenly, a bright light illuminated the night sky. The several yellow Chi dragons, after being enlightened by the Immortal Master, immediately became lifelike, beginning to raise their heads and wag their tails, ready to leave the jade mountain and pounce on the pair of masters and disciples.

Unexpectedly, at this moment, the old Daoist, who was simply climbing the steps, said with a smile, “Go back.”

The Chi dragons seemed to receive an order and actually went back to sleep soundly.

On the steps above, a group of sword cultivators led by a Golden Core cultivator floated down on the wind. The Golden Core sword cultivator, a middle-aged man in a golden robe, carried a sword on his back and looked down from above, saying coldly, “You two, get out of the mountain gate immediately. The Cloud Lock Sect never helps people pay for their coffins.”

This person was the Cloud Lock Sect’s only Earth Immortal sword cultivator, the most beloved direct disciple of the Ancestor of Little Green Hill, and also the current peak master. As for the Nascent Soul Ancestor, he had long since ceased to care about worldly affairs for over a hundred years.

The sword cultivator never imagined that the two climbing the mountain would only continue to ascend step by step, ignoring him.

He sneered, drew his long sword, and slashed down, the sword energy cascading down the steps like a waterfall.

Then, without seeing the two Daoists take any action, the flood-like sword energy took the initiative… split into two, and went straight back to the mountain gate.

The Golden Core sword cultivator was shocked. He forced himself to calm down and offered his natal flying sword. A silver-white line instantly stretched between the sword cultivator and the Daoist.

Chen Ping’an glanced at the flying sword “slowly hovering” in front of him, simply stretched out a finger, and casually flicked it, sending it hundreds of feet away.

The Golden Core sword cultivator’s heart trembled, his soul swaying like water. He said to the gatekeeper in a stern voice, “Quickly offer the colored talisman to notify the Ancestral Hall!”

The gatekeeper tremblingly offered the colored talisman.

Most of the Cloud Lock Sect’s sword cultivators came from Little Green Hill. The sword cultivator wearing a golden robe, who was extremely conspicuous, said in a deep voice, “Form the formation.”

Sword light rose everywhere, dazzling the eyes.

It was the Cloud Lock Sect’s Green Hill Sword Formation, but Little Green Hill had borrowed two sword cultivators from the ancestral mountain, otherwise there would not be enough people to complete the formation perfectly.

Chen Ping’an smiled. “Green Hill blooms, you don’t have to thank me.”

He took one step and arrived in the center of the sword formation. The sword formation scattered as soon as it started, and all seven people, including the Golden Core sword cultivator, were sent flying like blooming flowers.

Chen Ping’an said, “A mountain without an Immortal Realm sword cultivator, or a sect without an Ascension Realm Qi cultivator, should be challenged like this.”

Liu Jinglong said helplessly, “I’ve learned something.”

Further up the steps, halfway up the mountain, stood a Nascent Soul Realm old cultivator, holding a horsetail whisk, with an immortal demeanor. He was the peak master of Leaky Moon Peak.

The old cultivator smiled. “If the two Daoist experts stop here and retreat from the mountain gate, the Cloud Lock Sect can let bygones be bygones.”
The words were spoken thus, yet in truth, the Cloud Locking Sect’s mountain-protecting formation had already been activated. The entire mountain peak was adorned with shimmering, multicolored lights, illuminating the Cloud Locking Sect as bright as day. All one hundred and eight guardian deities had manifested.

Chen Pingan clicked his tongue in wonder, asking, “This time, it’s your turn?”

Liu Jinglong chuckled, “Your abilities are so great, and you haven’t encountered any Ascended Realm great cultivators.”

Chen Pingan nodded, heavily stomping his foot. “Then, retreat again!”

Though the guardian deities did not return to their original positions, they simultaneously halted their advance.

This left the old cultivator utterly astonished.

Liu Jinglong inquired, puzzled, “What’s going on?”

Chen Pingan explained, “This matter, from the beginning in Shujian Lake, I pondered for a long time, unable to figure it out. Later, at the Summer Palace, I kept examining books. It might be related to those few talismans from when I first practiced martial arts. But that’s just a possibility, the truth is hard to know.”

Back when Chen Pingan first journeyed along the Sword Qi Great Wall, he had four True Qi Eight Liang talismans affixed to his limbs. However, they had shattered before he met Zheng Dafeng in Old Dragon City.

Now, the old man was no longer in the backyard of the Yang family’s shop. Chen Pingan had once asked Li Er about the origins of the talisman near Lion Peak, but Li Er said he didn’t know the intricacies, suggesting his junior brother Zheng Dafeng might know, yet Zheng Dafeng had gone to the Ascended City of the Five Colored Heavens. It wasn’t until Chen Pingan refined his last natal treasure within the prison of the Sword Qi Great Wall that he felt it was imperative to get to the bottom of this matter.

Liu Jinglong said, “Then, it’s my turn.”

After that, the two ascended the mountain. The Cloud Locking Sect cultivators, including the old Nascent Soul elder from Leiyue Peak, seemed to be standing there, tossing out spells and divine abilities at random. To onlookers in the distance, it was utterly bizarre.

The one old and one young Taoist brushed past the cultivators attempting to block their path.

Chen Pingan sighed, “Your flying sword is unreasonable.”

Liu Jinglong calmly replied, “Within the rules, it must listen to me.”

Chen Pingan asked, “What’s the range?”

Liu Jinglong answered, “As far as the eye can see.”

Chen Pingan inquired, “Before you ascended to the Upper Five Realms, when Li Cai and the three sword immortals, according to custom, sought a sword duel at Pianran Peak, did you not use this flying sword at that time?”

Liu Jinglong nodded. “That kind of sword duel is a matter of etiquette for the continent. It shouldn’t be taken too seriously.”

The two of them arrived at the ancestral mountain, Yangyun Peak. Chen Pingan had nothing to do, so he had no choice but to take down his Sword Nurturing Gourd and resume drinking.

Before they reached the Ancestral Hall, the old ancestor Wei Jingcui, the current Sect Master Yang Que, and the guest elder Cui Gongzhuang appeared together.

Wei Jingcui squinted, “Since when have the land dragons of our Northern Ju Continent learned to act so stealthily? If you want a sword duel, then have a sword duel. Our Cloud Locking Sect will accept the challenge. If we can block it, it will be a long and drawn-out affair to discuss. If we can’t block it, it means our abilities are lacking and we’ll admit defeat. Either way, it’s better than Sect Master Liu acting so sneakily, which is a waste of the Grand Emblem Sword Sect’s reputation. If future disciples descend the mountain and are pointed at, it will inevitably lead to suspicions of the upper beam being crooked, and the lower beam following suit.”

Liu Jinglong pointed at the “old Taoist” beside him, “I learned it from him.”

Chen Pingan looked puzzled, “Is this Cloud Locking Sect not in the Northern Ju Continent?”

Liu Jinglong nodded. “Of course, it’s in the Northern Ju Continent.”

Chen Pingan waved his hand. “Absolutely impossible, don’t try to fool me! The cultivators of the Northern Ju Continent in my impression, when they meet and don’t like each other, either the other party falls to the ground or I lie down and sleep. How could they be so garrulous?”

Liu Jinglong smiled. “After all, it’s the Cloud Locking Sect. They act cautiously outside the mountain, but they talk a lot on the mountain. You have to be understanding.”

Chen Pingan suddenly understood. “I see.”

Then, the three from the Cloud Locking Sect saw the “old Taoist” raise a foot, glance at the sole of his shoe, and complain, “Before descending the mountain, the Cloud Locking Sect has to compensate me with a pair of clean shoes.”

Cui Gongzhuang looked somewhat awkward. He was just a guest elder, not a consecrated one, so his relationship with the Cloud Locking Sect was still separated by a layer.

Cui Gongzhuang had heard that every time the Sword Immortal Liu of the Grand Emblem Sword Sect descended the mountain, his actions resembled those of a Confucian sage. It didn’t seem like it.

And how did Liu Jinglong have such a disgusting, life-shortening mountain friend?

Liu Jinglong glanced at the Ancestral Hall in the distance, saying, “The cultivators are mine, the martial artists are yours?”

Chen Pingan smiled. “Whatever you like.”

Sect Master Yang Que stared at the old Taoist, softly asking, “You are?”

Cui Gongzhuang scoffed. “Sect Master Yang doesn’t need to ask this person’s name. He’s just a charlatan, thinking he’s Wang Fusui just because he knows a little martial arts. He’ll be lying on the ground reporting his name later.”

Cui Gongzhuang saw the old Taoist nod. “Yes, yes, yes. Except for not recognizing ancestors and returning to the clan, everything else you said is correct.”

Immortal Ancestor Feiqing, his attention solely on Liu Jinglong, laughed loudly. “Good, Liu Jinglong, good Jade Purity Realm, you really think you can do whatever you want in the Cloud Locking Sect?”

Liu Jinglong nodded. “I think so.”

Wei Jingcui shook his head. “What, becoming the Sect Master of the Grand Emblem Sword Sect can help you advance a realm?”

Even if there was a great battle tonight, and the mountain was severely damaged, it didn’t matter. The opportunity was rare, and this young Sect Master had delivered himself to their doorstep. They would beat the Grand Emblem Sword Sect into disrepute!

Liu Jinglong didn’t have any spiritual energy ripples, no movement whatsoever. However, in an instant, the entire Cloud Locking Sect’s peaks were covered with millions of crisscrossing golden lines, yet they just happened to bypass all the mountain cultivators.

As long as the cultivators didn’t act rashly, they would naturally be safe and sound.

Treasure Bottle Continent, Wind and Thunder Garden.

In the middle of summer, Huang He was wearing a fox fur coat, his expression solemn, leaning on the railing and looking into the distance.

He didn’t know why, but in recent days, he felt the pressure on his body suddenly lighten.

Today, while practicing his sword, Huang He asked someone to call his junior brother Liu Baqiao over. “Liu Baqiao, don’t deliberately pretend to be cynical. Your responsibility is yours, you definitely can’t avoid it or escape it. As a sword cultivator, what benefit is there in deceiving yourself?”

Huang He always liked to call people by their full name, including his junior brother Liu Baqiao.

Liu Baqiao didn’t say anything.

Huang He said, “I’m going to the Sword Qi Great Wall ruins, and then to the Wild Desolate World to practice my sword. That place is even more vast and suitable for drawing a sword.”

Liu Baqiao tentatively said, “Let me go. Senior Brother is the Garden Master. The Wind and Thunder Garden can do without anyone, except for Senior Brother.”
Huang He’s expression remained impassive. “If you go out there, you’ll only disgrace Master.”

How could one master supreme swordsmanship while entangled with a woman?

It wasn’t that cultivating immortals couldn’t have a partner; having a Dao companion was commonplace amongst cultivators.

But if fondness for a woman interfered with sword practice, if she held more weight in the sword cultivator’s heart than the three-foot blade, then forget other peaks and sects, within Fenglei Garden itself, Liu Baqiao would be as good as crippled.

A Nascent Soul Realm sword cultivator of his age wasn’t terrible, but he was Liu Baqiao! Master believed him to be the most talented disciple, the one who most resembled him. How could Master be satisfied, feeling relieved and free to coast for another century before seeking a breakthrough?

But Huang He was too weary even to utter these words.

Huang He stated, “If I don’t return, Song Daoguang, Zai Xiang, Xing Youheng, Nangong Xingyan, any of them, even if their current realm is lower, can become the Master of Fenglei Garden. You are the only exception.”

“Does hearing me say this actually relieve you?”

“That’s precisely why you’re useless. Master has only misjudged twice in his selection of disciples, and Liu Baqiao’s greatest ability is making Master regret his choice.”

Huang He rarely spoke like this.

Liu Baqiao softly said, “Huang, I have a temper too. If you keep badgering me like this… be careful, I might forget about being a Garden Master or a senior brother and just start cursing you out!”

Huang He’s lips curled into a sneer.

After a moment, weariness crept onto his face. Huang He shook his head, raised his hands, rubbed them together for warmth, and softly said, “It’s better to live shabbily than to die heroically. Just stay like this for the rest of your days. Baqiao, you must promise your senior brother to break through another realm within a century. After that, no matter how many years it takes, at least manage to become an Immortal. Then, I won’t be disappointed in you.”

Huang He’s constant sternness and unreasonable demands towards Liu Baqiao stemmed from a deep-seated desire for his junior brother to stand shoulder to shoulder with him, reaching the pinnacle of the Sword Dao together.

Now, calling him “Baqiao,” without his surname, was a sign that he utterly considered him his brother, hoping that he could live well as a Fenglei Garden sword cultivator who was *not* the Garden Master.

Liu Baqiao might be a good disciple, a good junior brother, a good man, but not necessarily a qualified sword cultivator.

Liu Baqiao remained silent, leaning against the railing, pursing his lips, his eyes concealing a mixture of complex emotions.

Finally, Liu Baqiao rested his chin on his hand and softly whispered, “I’m sorry, Senior Brother. I’ve let you and Fenglei Garden down.”

Huang He hesitated, then reached out a hand and placed it on Liu Baqiao’s head. “It’s nothing.”

Central Earth Divine Continent, Mountain Sea Sect.

Still the same cliffside where they had encountered the green-robed figure.

Nalan Xianxiu, the ghost cultivator Feicui, and that little girl still enjoyed coming here to admire the scenery.

The little girl, small in stature and low in cultivation, had only brought a small oil-paper umbrella when she first came to Mountain Sea Sect.

She gave herself a name: Chenghua, Supporter of Flowers.

Nalan Xianxiu, with his ever-present pipe tucked into his belt, surprisingly hadn’t smoked a single puff all day. He simply sat cross-legged, gazing into the distance, watching the sea from the mountains.

The little girl Chenghua had just crafted a small straw doll, repeatedly throwing it onto the bamboo mat, sometimes punching it with her tiny fist. Then, she crossed her arms and glared at the fallen straw doll, muttering, “Die, you big bad guy.”

Nalan Xianxiu said to the ghost cultivator beside him, “Of all people to like, why him? What a waste.”

Knowing so much, he also knew nothing about the nature of love.

Liking that Embroidered Tiger, Cui Chan, was even more pointless than liking Zuo You. The latter genuinely didn’t know, while the former feigned ignorance.

Feicui lay on the bamboo mat, her body displaying the alluring curves of a mountain range, something men would find pleasing, perhaps for the same reason they preferred mountain landscapes over flat plains.

Feicui, the ghost cultivator who appeared as a young girl, hadn’t always looked like this. She had failed to break through a bottleneck in her cultivation and had resorted to Corpse Dissection, something she was now compelled to do.

Of course, compared to her previous face and figure, Feicui’s current appearance was much more attractive.

In truth, if she had cultivated steadily, she wouldn’t have ended up in Corpse Dissection. In two or three centuries, she could have become an Immortal through diligent effort.

But when the war broke out, the Desolate North seemed to have conquered Tongye Continent in an instant, reaching Old Dragon City.

She couldn’t wait.

And the result? Not only did she fail to break through, but she also didn’t even get to see Cui Chan. She had essentially died once.

Nalan Xianxiu had advised her long ago that if liking someone made her afraid to go even as a Jade Purity Realm cultivator, then even becoming an Immortal wouldn’t change the outcome.

But Feicui had her own reasons. Wanting to go there as an Immortal wasn’t about making him like her; that was impossible. It was simply about doing something for the person she liked.

As for why she liked him so much?

He was handsome.

It wasn’t just young Cui Chan’s appearance; it was also the graceful flow of his movements when he picked up a chess piece and placed it on the board during the Azure Cloud Game. It was also the radiant confidence he displayed when debating with others at the academy, when he said, “The moment I sit, you lose.”

She had been fortunate enough to witness all of that.

And during a snowy winter, the young Confucian scholar had traveled with Ah Liang to Mountain Sea Sect. While Ah Liang was causing trouble, he had remained alone by the cliffside, apologizing to people.

She had once stood just a few steps away, watching him, his face bearing a warm smile, as he said, “Hello, my name is Cui Chan. I am a disciple of the Sage of Literature.”

Central Earth Divine Continent.

The Ascension Realm grand cultivator Nan Guangzhao returned to his sect alone, frowning slightly as he noticed a stranger sitting at the sect entrance, his long sword drawn, resting across his knees, his fingers gently stroking the blade.

He seemed to be waiting for someone.

Nan Guangzhao hesitated for a moment, then landed at the sect entrance and asked, “Who are you?”

The man raised his head and said, “Green Pine Blessed Land, Sword Cultivator Hao Su.”

Nan Guangzhao’s heart tightened. He asked again, “What brings you here?”

The old cultivator recalled a tragic incident that had occurred on a certain peak many years ago, where a Jade Purity Realm cultivator had been beheaded, his head casually left at the sect entrance.

The man who called himself Hao Su stood up, holding his sword, and calmly said, “Here to behead someone, then leave.”

Northern Reed Continent, Clear Cool Sect.

Beneath an eaves.

The female Sect Master He Xiaoliang was imparting teachings to her three direct disciples. They were all female cultivators, and their Dao names were given by their master, respectively: Qingya, Dajiao, Ganji.

She then bestowed upon each of her three direct disciples: a multicolored sika deer, a spatial artifact, and… a few oranges.
Beneath the eaves hung wind chimes, often swaying in the clear breeze.

Today, the weather was stifling, with no hint of a refreshing wind.

After finishing her instruction to her three disciples, He Xiaoliang tilted her head, raised a finger, and gently swayed it. She closed her eyes, listening intently to the sound of the chimes.

A hint of a smile gradually appeared on her extremely beautiful, yet aloof, face.

May flowers be beautiful, the moon be full, and people live long; may all be as you wish, and all things go smoothly.

He Xiaoliang’s three direct disciples, even though they were all women, were moved by their master’s demeanor at that moment.

Lock Cloud Sect.

After Liu Jinglong unleashed his natal flying sword, golden threads densely covered the peaks both inside and out, yet a martial arena was specifically cleared for Chen Ping An and Cui Gongzhuang.

Cui Gongzhuang’s eyes blurred, and he could no longer see the old Daoist’s figure.

Suddenly, someone laughed from behind, “What are you looking at?”

Cui Gongzhuang immediately turned and unleashed a peak ninth-realm martial artist’s Knocking-Heart Strike, showing no hesitation in aiming for a fatal blow!

Even if a mistake occurred and he accidentally killed this person, provoking the master, elders, or ancestral founders behind him, the Lock Cloud Sect would bear the responsibility.

However, that person allowed the fist of a ninth-realm martial artist to strike him squarely in the chest. His cloth shoes merely twisted slightly as he steadied himself, smiling, “Didn’t get enough to eat? Is the Lock Cloud Sect’s food bad? How about you come with me to the Grand Tenuity Sword Sect for a drink?”

Cui Gongzhuang’s other fist struck towards the opponent’s face, his martial qi like a rainbow, the fist as swift as a flying sword. Yet, the person merely raised a palm, blocked Cui Gongzhuang’s fist, gently deflected it, and looked him in the eye, smiling slightly, “Hitting people in the face is impolite, isn’t there any martial morality anymore?”

Cui Gongzhuang delivered a knee strike, the person pressed down with a palm, and Cui Gongzhuang involuntarily leaned forward. Taking advantage of this, he unleashed both fists.

Chen Ping An turned to the side and swept out a leg, striking Cui Gongzhuang, sending him flying. His body instantly contorted, and his eyes became bloodshot. Chen Ping An slightly increased the force, subtly changing the direction, and Cui Gongzhuang was directly kicked to the ground.

As Cui Gongzhuang fell, he pulled out a soldier’s armor pellet, instantly donning armor. Besides the Golden Crow armor on the outside, he wore a spiritual treasure armor inside, as soft as a cultivator’s robe.

Chen Ping An deliberately didn’t stop him.

That’s how one acquires things on the road.

In the Ancestral Hall, a colorful armored giant, hundreds of feet tall, stood up, its armor covered with countless talisman cloud patterns. It was forged with the successive blessings of the Lock Cloud Sect’s ancestral masters. The talismanic divine general opened a pair of light golden eyes, holding an iron mace, ready to smash down. However, the moment it appeared, it was bound by Liu Jinglong’s golden sword qi, and instantly the colorful armor seemed to transform into a golden one.

Yet, Liu Jinglong remained motionless.

In the next moment, the hundred-foot divine general was cut into countless pieces by golden threads. Although numerous cloud-pattern talismans and Daoist intents connected them, like severed lotus roots still clinging, its enormous body teetered.

Yang Que suddenly said in a deep voice, “This sword debate, we have lost.”

Wei Jingcui was stunned for a moment, then angrily said, “Yang Que, stop talking nonsense!”

Yang Que completely ignored the anger of his senior uncle, merely looking at the mask-wearing “old Daoist,” and asked again, “May I ask who you are?”

It was this senior uncle who had claimed the Grand Tenuity Sword Sect was a paper tiger. Yang Que, in the depths of his heart, did not agree with this. Why provoke the Grand Tenuity Sword Sect, just because of his senior uncle’s personal grudges with their previous Law Enforcement Elder, Huang Tong? However, his senior uncle’s realm and seniority were what mattered, and the real paper tiger was not the Grand Tenuity Sword Sect, but himself, the nominal Sect Master of the Lock Cloud Sect. Who in the ancestral peaks would listen to his orders? If it weren’t for the fact that Wei Jingcui’s direct disciples had all failed to reach the upper five realms, the position of Sect Master would never have fallen to Yang Que, who came from a different branch.

Liu Jinglong smiled and reminded him telepathically, “Ignore him.”

Chen Ping An shook his head, removed the obscuring magic of the Daoist robe and lotus crown, reached out and took off the mask, putting it into his sleeve, and smiled, “Sword Qi Great Wall, Chen Ping An.”

The three members of the Lock Cloud Sect certainly knew of the Sword Qi Great Wall, but Chen Ping An’s name was the first time they had heard it.

Liu Jinglong couldn’t help but laugh, “Embarrassed now, aren’t you?”

Chen Ping An smiled, “Knowing I’m from the Sword Qi Great Wall is enough.”