After the eleven Earthly Branch cultivators returned to the inn, the two small eminences, Yuan Huajing and Song Xu, surprisingly didn’t summon their own people for post-battle analysis.

Young Gou Cun was delighted to have some leisure time. In any case, he couldn’t keep up with the deductions and evolutions of the battles, the examination of details, and the after-action reviews. He just followed instructions.

This nameless immortal inn in the capital was somewhat similar to the Snail Dojo of the Jiang Clan’s Cloud Grotto, with its overlapping mountain and water illusions. The distance between two residences could be a mere foot, yet actually be thousands of zhang apart. Each of the eleven occupied a secluded courtyard, and each had an extraordinary feature. The main room was like a white jade dojo similar to that of the old Daoist Liu Jia in the alley. It seemed small, but it was truly a world apart, constructed from various fragments of shattered grotto heavens and secret realms selected from the Great Li treasury.

Gou Cun took his green bamboo walking stick and strolled leisurely around the courtyard, lightly tapping the ground.

The female ghost Gai Yan, the nominal innkeeper, was currently visiting Han Zhoujin.

Sui Lin, a Five Elements cultivator capable of reversing a portion of the flow of time, was refining that priceless fragment of ancient god’s golden body. Even within the secret treasury jointly built by the Ministry of Justice and the Ministry of Rites, there wasn’t such a high-grade fragment. It was indeed difficult to refine. Setting aside other cultivation and focusing solely on this task, it would still take about a month. However, Sui Lin didn’t mind this “arduous task” at all.

The little novice monk Houjue, from the Sutra Translation Bureau of the capital, actually went to a nearby temple and secretly donated money to a merit box.

Yuan Huajing, the Nascent Soul Realm sword cultivator nicknamed “Yelang,” was currently sitting cross-legged on a futon. The room was bare of any decorations, seemingly with nothing of value.

Behind Yuan Huajing knelt a row of servant-like men and women, ten in total, but each was lifeless and lacked vitality.

After returning to the inn, Yuan Huajing only summoned Song Xu and his own *kujusha*, and no other cultivators.

The *kujusha* felt somewhat apprehensive upon arriving here.

To be honest, he greatly respected that azure-robed Sword Immortal.

Song Xu arrived slightly later than the *kujusha*. He took off his boots in the corridor and then chose a spot near the door to sit on the floor, glancing at the ten puppets behind Yuan Huajing.

Even Song Xu, a pure sword cultivator with excellent aptitude, was somewhat envious of Yuan Huajing’s unreasonable good fortune in the Great Dao.

Early on the Dadu battlefield, Yuan Huajing had killed two Jade Pure Realm demon cultivators from the military camp with his flying sword. These two were now sitting behind Yuan Huajing.

In addition, there was a demon who was a mountain-peak martial artist in life, also from the battlefield of the Great Li’s secondary capital. The other ten Earthly Branch members fully cooperated with Yuan Huajing, and Yuan Huajing ultimately claimed this head.

This was the innate divine ability of Yuan Huajing’s natal flying sword “Yelang.” Those slain by the flying sword would become Yuan Huajing’s puppets, their souls imprisoned.

However, the combat power of the cultivators and pure martial artists who became puppets was greatly diminished, and their intelligence was far inferior to when they were alive. For example, the two Jade Pure Realm demon cultivators had their realms lowered to Nascent Soul, and the other Nascent Soul realm demons were reduced to Golden Core. In addition, there were several cultivators who were now only Dragon Gate Realm or even Sea Gazing Realm. After weighing the pros and cons, Yuan Huajing chose to keep them because each possessed some uncommon divine ability. Otherwise, after the end of that half-continent’s sinking, Yuan Huajing could have had two Distant Travel Realm martial artists and eight Earth Immortal realm retainers.

In a one-on-one fight on the mountain, a Nascent Soul Realm sword cultivator could face a Jade Pure Realm cultivator without fear. But Yuan Huajing, in his current state, could steadily kill Jade Pure realm cultivators outside of Sword Cultivators.

Yuan Huajing seemed to be a sword cultivator born for war. If he were a native sword cultivator of the Sword Qi Great Wall, he would definitely shine with his flying sword “Yelang’s” innate divine ability.

The grade of this sword would certainly rank high in the A-grade evaluation of the Summer Palace lineage.

On the path of cultivation, during the battles of war, those protecting him might be great sword immortals like Yue Qing and Mi Hu.

Song Xu looked at Yuan Huajing, who seemed indifferent, and felt a surge of anger. His expression was displeased, and he couldn’t help but address him by name, “Yuan Huajing, this is against the rules! The State Preceptor once established an iron rule for us: only those who are mortal enemies with our Great Li Dynasty can we allow the *kujusha* to use this innate divine ability! Outside of this, even the ruler of a country, as long as they are acting out of personal gain, is not qualified to command us Earthly Branch to kill with this.”

This was the Great Li Earthly Branch cultivators’ true trump card. The hypothetical enemies were few: the Wind and Snow Temple’s Great Sword Immortal Wei Jin, the Divine Edict Sect’s Heavenly Sovereign Qi Zhen, the current sect master of the True Realm Sect, the immortal realm cultivator Liu Laocheng, as well as Wei Bo of Piyun Mountain and Jin Qing, the Mountain Lord of Zhongyue Mountain.

Song Xu actually had something else he didn’t say.

The *kujusha* would lose a great deal of lifespan after using this divine ability. It had been previously assessed that the *kujusha* could only use it three times in his life. Below the Jade Pure Realm, he only had one chance, otherwise, he, the *kujusha*, would never be able to reach the upper five realms in this lifetime.

Yuan Huajing said calmly, “The State Preceptor who set the rules for us is no longer here.”

Song Xu clenched his fists and rested them on his knees, his eyes cold. He said in a deep voice, “Yuan Huajing!”

Yuan Huajing said, “I think this Chen Ping’an is a potential enemy of our Great Li, and his threat is definitely greater than Wei Jin, a carefree cloud crane, and the likes of Qi Zhen and Liu Laocheng.”

Song Xu was about to retort, but Yuan Huajing looked at this golden branch and jade leaf of the Great Li Song family and continued, “Second Prince, I admit that Chen Ping’an is a very rule-abiding person, so rule-abiding that he’s almost not a mountain person. But Song Xu, don’t forget, sometimes, good people doing good things can also violate the laws of Great Li. If we don’t have a key to suppress Chen Ping’an and the Fallen Mountain, it’s a huge hidden danger. We can’t wait until that day comes and then try to fix things, as if letting him alone set the rules for the entire Great Li Dynasty, and he can kill whoever he wants. In the end, it’s still that the ten of you are cultivating too slowly, and Chen Ping’an is breaking through too quickly.”

The female ghost Gai Yan, a mountain painter who paints eyebrows, is only in the Golden Core Realm now, and she can already cause deviations in the scenes Chen Ping’an sees. When she reaches the upper five realms, she can even make people “believe what they see.”

In addition, Gai Yan has a more hidden identity: she is a *yanshi* proficient in *cailian* art, capable of creating a *fengliu zhang*.
Lu Hui, a Qi Refinement cultivator of the Confucian school, possessed a true Dao foundation – that of a “One-Word Master” scorned by White Jade Capital in the Azure Billow Heaven.

Sui Lin, of the Five Elements school, could reverse the flow of time within a small world. Together with the Buddhist “Dhyana” supernatural power of the young novice monk, Hou Jue, and the formations of Han Zhoujin and others, they could achieve perfect coordination, seizing every advantage of celestial timing, terrestrial benefits, and human harmony for the Earthly Branches lineage. If they hadn’t happened to encounter that young Hidden Officer who had frequented the long river of time, whose mind and body were like steadfast pillars, seemingly allowing the slender stream of time to flow past him, and who had even severed a section of that stream with a flying sword, even a Jade Pure Realm cultivator would have been defeated inexplicably.

Gushou, even more formidable, was a mirror-selling person, a legendary “Tenth Rogue Candidate.” Such naturally gifted cultivators were extremely rare in the Grand Brightness World.

Gushou’s most fundamental natal item was a Still Water Mirror, whose innate supernatural power was mysterious beyond words: “Either/or; illusory appearance is real state.”

Song Xu stared at Yuan Huajing. “Do you truly have not even a shred of ulterior motive?!”

Yuan Huajing shook his head. “I dare not.”

One wrong step, crossing a certain bottom line, and they would surely be targeted by that fellow.

Mount Zhengyang was a cautionary tale.

Regarding the observation ceremony at Mount Zhengyang and Chen Ping’an’s joint sword inquiry with Liu Xianyang, the eleven of the Earthly Branches each had their own views. They admired and respected the Hidden Officer’s methods in different ways.

Yuan Huajing’s perspective differed from everyone else. What he feared most was not Chen Ping’an’s swordsmanship or boxing, not his multiple identities, and not even the accumulation of details Chen Ping’an used to dismantle Mount Zhengyang – swordsmanship, boxing, heart-piercing words, alliances, division, and piecemeal destruction. Rather, it was Chen Ping’an’s extraordinary patience.

Like a grudge that had become a Gordian knot, someone harboring resentment might strike with only a 50% chance of success, just to feel a sense of satisfaction.

Some people, with an 80% chance of success, would certainly try. Most, if they had a 100% chance, would be fools not to act.

But Chen Ping’an was different. Even with a 120% chance of success, he remained unhurried, his schemes steady, each step linked, with no flaws.

Therefore, this time, Yuan Huajing had not informed anyone except Song Xu and Gushou. He kept it a secret, fearing that the Hidden Officer’s deep cunning would detect a hint and ruin everything.

Song Xu asked a crucial question: “What… what shall we do with Chen Ping’an?”

Yuan Huajing glanced at Gushou and smiled. “Of course, we’ll make the most of him, using him to repeatedly practice and hone our cultivation until we can steadily defeat Chen Ping’an.”

Chen Ping’an’s learning was diverse, making him the perfect whetstone: swordsmanship, boxing, talismans, numerous natal items, plus his cunning and scheming…

If the eleven of them could defeat Chen Ping’an, it would mean they were fully qualified to slay an Immortal.

Although the eleven were all Qi Refinement cultivators, besides Song Changjing occasionally teaching them some boxing, and a martial arts instructor who specialized in teaching martial arts, whose realm wasn’t high, just a Distant Wanderer, but hailing from the border army of Great Li, the martial arts he taught were straightforward, ruthless, and decisive.

Yuan Huajing seemed to have thought of something interesting, half-jokingly saying: “A martial artist of the Zenith Realm who can fight Cao Ci to a standstill, a grandmaster of martial arts who can withstand countless blows from Yuan Zhenye of Mount Zhengyang, from today on, they can help us spar at any time, tempering our physical bodies. Such an opportunity is truly rare. Even if we are not pure martial artists, the benefits will still be considerable. If that female martial artist, Zhou Haijing, can ultimately become our comrade, such a tremendous and unexpected delight, she will surely accept it with a smile.”

Song Xu continued to ask: “And then?!”

Yuan Huajing said: “And then? What else could there be? Isn’t it simple? In the end, I will personally…”

“…sever the Hidden Officer with my sword.”

Song Xu shook his head. “Absolutely not! Gushou’s realm is not high, and the path of refining mirrors has no experience to draw upon. This is Gushou’s first time venturing into such a risky endeavor, and there might be unforeseen accidents that even Gushou cannot anticipate. Since the National Preceptor specifically established a rule for us not to use it casually, he must have known the danger of this matter long ago.”

Gushou tentatively said, “To maintain this mirrored ‘real state,’ I actually consume a lot of Immortal money every day. How about, if we can truly win against that… Hidden Officer one day, we let him fall apart in my mirrored small world?”

Song Xu nodded. “This is feasible. Let’s not create unnecessary problems.”

Yuan Huajing shook his head and smiled. “I’m not stupid. Of course, I will sever all of Chen Ping’an’s thoughts and memories, leaving nothing behind. What remains by my side will be just an empty shell of a Core Formation Realm swordsman and a Mountain Peak Realm martial artist. And I can guarantee you that I will absolutely not let ‘him’ appear unless it is absolutely necessary. Only if our Earthly Branches lineage is trapped in dire straits will he be unleashed, as a divine move to help reverse the situation.”

In that instant.

Gushou actually heard a gentle voice he would never have imagined, coming from his own heart lake, from within his natal Still Water Mirror. This terrified Gushou, turning his face pale.

He heard someone say with a smile, “Reverse the situation? I’ll satisfy you.”

Gushou instantly retracted his divine sense, stabilized his Dao heart, and transformed into a mustard seed of his mind, trying to examine his natal ancient mirror.

Unexpectedly, Gushou’s soul became unstable, and he vomited blood. He reached out to cover his heart, trying to desperately stop something, but the Still Water Mirror still “opened” Gushou’s heart on its own, falling to the ground with the back facing up. A circle of ancient seal script, like a palindromic poem, read: “An inch in the human heart, a zhang in the heart of Heaven,” “What I see, mountains turn, water stills,” “Using man to view the mirror, illusion and reality, being and non-being.”

Gushou raised a hand, trying to press down on the ancient mirror that seemed to be rebelling.

The ancient mirror flipped over, its surface facing up, and bloomed with dazzling light, like the sun leaping out of the sea. Gushou flew backward with a crash, leaning weakly against the wall.
The figure in the mirror was a young man clad in a snow-white robe, a sheathed sword upon his back. His features were indistinct, yet one could vaguely discern a jet-black Daoist hairpin adorning his hair and a string of pearly white prayer beads held in his hand. Barefoot and unshoed, he wore a gentle smile, softly exhaling a breath before raising his hand to lightly wipe the mirror’s surface.

The mirror then opened like a doorway, instantly filling the room with a palpable aura of swordsmanship.

Stepping forth, the white-robed man, who had appeared to be the size of a mustard seed within the mirror, suddenly stood as tall as any mortal. With a slender frame and eyes of molten gold, he carried the prayer beads in the hand behind his back. Extending his left palm horizontally before him, he emanated the power of the Five Thunders Congregated. Standing within the room, composed and serene, he murmured, “Fortune and misfortune have no gate; they are summoned by oneself. The retribution of good and evil is like a shadow following form.”

With a light stomp of his foot, the entire inn fell within the confines of his Natal Sword’s “Bird in a Cage” miniature world.

“The superior scholar, upon hearing the Way, diligently puts it into practice. To question the heart’s gate is to enter the mountains seeking immortals, to suddenly encounter a recluse, as if meeting one’s own Daoist heart.”

This “Chen Ping’an” turned to look at the unfortunate cultivator slumped against the wall and smiled. The ancient mirror on the floor, drawn by a strand of true Qi, shot like a flying sword and pierced directly into the young cultivator’s heart, “Returned to you. Remember to keep it safe in the future… if there is a future.”

The unpropitious cultivator felt his vital acupoints shattered by his own Natal Treasure. His neck was twisted at an unnatural angle as if seized and pulled. His limbs contorted involuntarily, breaking inch by inch. The cultivator’s Golden Core was forcibly extracted from his personal world, suspended before his very eyes.

From this Chen Ping’an’s perspective, the flying swords of Yuan Huajing and Song Xu, once unleashed, seemed to drift lazily through the air. They were so sluggish that even he, a man of considerable patience, found their pace intolerably slow.

He “sauntered” sideways, “passing by” Song Xu’s golden-hued Natal Sword, and then came to stand before Yuan Huajing’s blade, “Yelang,” allowing the flying sword to “inch” closer and closer.

He simply squinted at the approaching sword and snapped his fingers. The building vanished, as if the entire world, its colors and all nonessential details, had been swept clean. All that remained were the eleven vividly painted figures in the canvas of the heart.

The eight Earthly Branch cultivators outside the room arrived in this realm simultaneously, each frozen in their prior posture. Young Gou Cun had returned to his room after his stroll, placing the green bamboo cane across his knees, studying the inscription of “Zhi Yuan”. The female ghost, Gai Yan, was chatting and laughing with Han Zhoujin, who appeared somewhat distracted. The young monk, Hou Jue, had just returned to the inn, his foot raised mid-step. Yu Yu looked down, leaning forward as if counting something. Sui Lin remained cross-legged, still refining the divine golden body fragments. Daoist Ge Ling held a book open, his finger poised on a page…

He curved his index finger and gently flicked his thumb, conjuring a chess piece. It rose high, slowly descending, and with the sound of a splash, a chessboard materialized in the realm.

Then, pinching the approaching sword “Yelang” between his fingers, he reversed its point and walked towards Yuan Huajing. With a light tug, he plunged the blade into the latter’s brow, the tip protruding from the back of his skull. He glanced askance at Yuan Huajing, smiling and shaking his head, remarking, “Not a pure martial artist after all; a paper-mache physique.”

The eight “guests” instantly recovered their senses, discovering the grievous state of the near-death cultivator. Yu Yu immediately summoned the young Sword Immortal, bent her knee slightly, and charged forward. On the chessboard beneath her feet, swordlight erupted like a series of prisons, blocking her path. Fortunately, the Sword Immortal attendant ceaselessly unleashed his sword, forcefully cleaving through the straight lines of swordlight. Yu Yu, her mind clear of distractions, was a strategist, determined to stall this inexplicably troublesome Chen Ping’an long enough to gain a chance to retaliate.

He smiled at the little strategist, thinking: Can fearlessness truly bring immortality? Seeking me… Can you truly find me?

A glance out of the corner of his eye at the young Sword Immortal, retaining a “fragment of true spirit” and a swordsman’s facade, was all it took. Where his gaze landed, so did his will.

He cleaved the swordsman in two.

She seemed to be perpetually trapped in a ghost wall.

Yu Yu, who had been less than ten zhang away, was suddenly hundreds of zhang distant. No matter how she charged forward, retreated, or arced through the air, she simply could not close the gap within ten zhang.

Heaven and earth were inverted, Yu Yu’s path filled with incomprehensible distortions created by the man.

Daoist Ge Ling unleashed a mountain-moving technique, colossal peaks and ridges bearing down from all directions upon the figure in white. But each mountain was intercepted mid-air, instantly sliced into pieces by slender swordlights, collapsing onto the chessboard and vanishing into nothingness.

He suddenly appeared beside Yu Yu, pressing a hand against her face.

Yu Yu’s body crashed to the ground, but her very soul was wrenched out by this man.

He shook his head, “Long confined in a cage, one returns to nature. I speak of myself, not you.”

Looking at Yu Yu’s soul held captive in his hand, his pure gold eyes shimmered with a subtle light, “Heaven and earth are an empty chamber; you are but trivial dust and dirt.”

In that same moment, with a thought, he murmured two words: “Flowers bloom.”

The Confucian Qi Refiner, Lu Hui, was impaled by dozens of swords, immobilizing him in a sudden burst of blood blossoms.

The Ghost Modifier, Gai Yan, her ethereal form, along with her robes, armor, and golden crow plating, was instantly dissected into countless pieces by a myriad of intersecting swordlights.

The man smiled, “This self-created swordsmanship, I have just named ‘Fragmented Moon’.”

Young Gou Cun had his arms and legs severed.

The Daoist Ge Ling was trapped within a square on the chessboard, encased in hundreds upon hundreds of talismans.

The man appeared out of nowhere behind Sui Lin, “Locking talismans are meaningless; do not forget, I am still a pure martial artist.”

One punch pierced through the back of the Five Elements Qi Refiner, exiting through his chest.

Song Xu’s Natal Sword was pinched between the man’s fingers at its tip and hilt, crushed until it snapped.

He lightly flicked his wrist, condensing a spear of sword Qi in his hand, impaling the instructor Lu Hui through the neck and raising him high on the spear point, triggering an explosion of martial artist’s Stellar Qi.

He seemed to be speaking to himself, “How is this?”

The next moment, a figure in a blue robe appeared beside this Chen Ping’an clad in white, standing back to back, as if the two would brush past each other in the following moment.
He didn’t even turn his head, smiling slightly, “Gaining an extra Night Wanderer Sword is indeed an advantage. Fortunately, I have an extra Caged Bird Sword, so it’s a fair trade.”

He first unleashed the two Caged Bird Swords, gaining the initiative. The latter’s version of himself could only remain outside the cage. In essence, it was as if he didn’t have one.

Chen Ping’an said, “You can stop now.”

He tilted his head slightly, looking at the pitiable cultivator suspended in mid-air by the long spear in his hand, “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Chen Ping’an replied, “Doesn’t feel like it.”

This “Chen Ping’an” beside him, in a way, was like a inner demon that should have appeared during the Nascent Soul stage bottleneck, arriving late, yet resembling even more a pure celestial demon devoid of all humanity.

It had to be admitted, he was more like a pure sword cultivator unrestrained by heaven and earth than Chen Ping’an was.

Within the miniature world of the Caged Bird Sword, sword energy permeated the air, and the landscape, spanning thousands of miles, lacked any vibrant colors, the world akin to snow accumulated over ten thousand years.

He looked at the Yuan Hua realm cultivator, smiling, “Isn’t it fun? Like a person who believes they’ve done nothing wrong and has no fear of ghosts knocking, yet a knock immediately sounds. Then they swear, ‘If I’ve ever gone against my conscience, may I be struck by five bolts of lightning!’ Coincidentally, thunder rumbles. Isn’t that another kind of sincerity bringing forth results, with divine judgment just above one’s head?”

Above Yuan Hua realm cultivator, a majestic heavenly thunderbolt crashed down, only to be shattered by a lightning strike seemingly originating from the mortal realm, rising from below in a perfect collision.

He sighed, “This is truly vexing.”

For example, some of his plans involved seizing the Yuan Hua realm’s divine soul, temporarily taking control, gaining ten puppets he could freely manipulate. He had many such hidden tricks.

But Chen Ping’an could guess them all, knew them all.

My me, a mutual affliction.

It was a pity this version of himself had arrived too soon; otherwise, he could have slowly refined these eleven men, equivalent to completing the twelve Earthly Branches with one person!

During this period, he could have disassembled, learned, mastered, and ultimately converted all kinds of divine abilities and techniques from the other eleven Earthly Branches, making them all his own.

But it didn’t matter. Nothing in this world offered only advantages. Too much was as bad as too little.

He smiled and asked, “Our teacher likes to clasp his hands together when he encounters a monk, and give a Daoist salute in the Daoist temple. Do you think our teacher’s actions will affect Qi Xian’s state of mind from his youth?”

Chen Ping’an nodded, “It will.”

He then asked, “Then why don’t you tell Pei Qian about the matter? She received that inheritance from the sword immortal, Zhou Cheng’s lineage. Zhou Cheng would have left the battlefield with even fewer regrets. This is a good thing, so why can’t it be spoken of? Perhaps Pei Qian will reach the Nascent Soul realm sword cultivator level much faster, and more stably.”

Chen Ping’an laughed, “Just realizing that chatting with people is indeed quite annoying.”

He put away the spear in his hand, and Lu Hui, who had been suspended in mid-air, fell to the ground, barely alive, lying in a pool of blood.

Song Xu looked at the seemingly unharmed Hou Jue, feeling despair.

If the other Chen Ping’an had chosen to kill the little monk from the Scripture Translation Bureau first, there might still be room for maneuver.

Because after Sui Lin reversed a small fragment of time, without Hou Jue’s Buddhist divine power to protect them, everyone would lose their memory.

But the current situation meant that either all eleven of them would die, or at least the little monk would.

Yu Yu looked at her terribly injured friends and colleagues, her face full of tears, and roared, “Yuan Hua realm, Song Xu, what exactly is going on?!”

The Chen Ping’an, dressed in snow-white, clicked his tongue, “The more others can empathize with the heartbreaking human suffering, the harder it is for them to live easily.”

Chen Ping’an said, “Now that I’m here, where can you escape?”

He took a few steps back, folded his hands in his sleeves, turned to look at Chen Ping’an, and after a moment of silence, sneered, “Pitiable.”

Chen Ping’an remained silent.

He spoke in his mind for the first time, “Chen Ping’an, have you ever considered that she might have been waiting for me all along, not you?”

Chen Ping’an turned his head, looking at this version of himself, who could not be entirely regarded as a inner demon. Not like it, he *was* himself, just incomplete.

He folded his hands in his sleeves, looked up at the sky, squinted his eyes, and murmured, “I am more suitable than you. The further we go, the more suitable I become.”

He slowly extended a hand, and beside them, a spark of light appeared, like a star suspended outside the sky. Then, in an instant, a brilliant sword light flashed past, and the spark was drawn by the sword energy, chasing after the sword light.

He smiled and looked at Chen Ping’an, speaking in his mind, “You know very well that this is why Teacher Qi told her not to act rashly. Neither teaching you any superior sword techniques, nor protecting your Dao too much, only saying that those three strands of sword energy are truly useful on our cultivation path? There is a point, but looking back, it doesn’t affect the overall trend of any line of reasoning. On Chessboard Mountain, whether you killed that monster or not, Ah Liang was still watching by your side. At the wellhead, whether you killed Cui Dongshan at the bottom of the well or not, in the long run, it’s all irrelevant.”

He shook his head, talking to himself, “She actually kept her promise. Unexpected.”

Chen Ping’an said, “Don’t forget, you’re not human.”

He smiled brightly and complained, “Who scolds themselves like that?”

In fact, he could have said harsh words, such as, ‘I understand everything about you, but you, Chen Ping’an, can’t understand the current me. Be careful not to push me too far, or we’ll both stop being sword cultivators! The End Stage martial artist will fall another one or two realms, and the natal objects of the Five Elements will shatter by more than half first…’

But it was meaningless.

He would still be recklessly killed by this guy, regardless of the cost, not caring about the consequences. Most hateful of all, this guy’s greatest reliance wasn’t that Old Scholar and Ning Yao were nearby, but that “himself” would sincerely believe that even if the Great Dao was temporarily severed, it would just be like having the Longevity Bridge broken in his youth, and he could start all over again.

Chen Ping’an sneered, “That’s my greatest reliance. Do you look down on yourself that much?”

He sighed, smiled brilliantly, and raised a hand, “Then let’s say goodbye? See you later?”

It was a pity that the casual chat, coupled with deliberately setting up this scene earlier, had failed to add a trace of divinity to this version of himself who had hurried over, so there was no opportunity to exploit.
Otherwise, it would be debatable who the real Chen Ping’an that ventured forth truly was. When the time was right, he would simply cleave the firmament with his sword, embark on a silent journey beyond the heavens, and rendezvous with her at that ancient sword-forging grounds.

Chen Ping’an merely narrowed his eyes and nodded.

He surveyed his surroundings, then curled his lip. “Defeated only because I arrived too early, bound hand and foot. Otherwise, dealing with the likes of you would have been more than sufficient.”

He looked towards the female ghost, smiling slightly. “Will you dare to take liberties again in the future?”

Gai Yan only glanced at those golden eyes, and she nearly suffered a complete Dao heart collapse on the spot, not daring to utter a single word.

The being beside Chen Ping’an, no matter what he said or did, regardless of whether he smiled or not, seemed devoid of emotion. All his expressions, sentiments, and actions were merely extracted objects, lifeless things, as if they were corpses casually picked from the countless ancient tombs by that entity.

He withdrew his gaze, his entire being shattering and dissipating like flawless glass, yet leaving this small world utterly unchanged. His eyes were profound, golden light swirling like a constellation, and he looked at Chen Ping’an, uttering his final words, “True freedom is making oneself unfree. How did I ever come up with that?”

The small world created by the Caged Bird was destroyed along with the white-clad Chen Ping’an.

Chen Ping’an remained expressionless, not hurrying to retract his Caged Bird and Well-in-the-Moon. Instead, he immediately shrank the area of the Caged Bird, encompassing the entire area where the white robes had disappeared. Then, he reminded Sui Lin, “You can reverse this small segment of the river of time now. My flying sword will protect you, clearing the path and allowing everyone to return to the original alley.”

Generally speaking, that “self” could take the opportunity to split off a portion, or even a sliver of the spirit, hiding in the river of time. It could be somewhere in the small world of the Bitter Hand’s ancient mirror, within the mind or soul of a certain cultivator, or even on a robe, armor, or some place in the inn. There were countless possibilities. However, that “self” dared not, because Chen Ping’an would ask Master to return to the Temple of Literature, so that the Sage of Rites could personally investigate the matter. Once discovered, the consequences would be unimaginable.

What he could conceive, that fellow could also conceive. It seemed redundant, but in reality, regardless of whether that fellow had left a contingency plan, Chen Ping’an would accomplish this. He would have to trouble the Sage of Rites to personally examine the flow of time. After all, deceiving oneself was difficult, while self-deception was easy.

Sui Lin asked in a trembling voice, “Master Chen, what should we do with this memory?”

Chen Ping’an coldly laughed, “Are you all so bored with nothing better to do? Then consider it a reminder for the future!”

Sui Lin, joining forces with the Little Monk Houjue, reversed the river of time, instantly returning everyone to their original positions.

Only Chen Ping’an remained standing inside Yuan Huajing’s house.

The Little Monk immediately clasped his hands together, silently chanting three times, “May Buddha protect us. I will donate some merit money later, I will do what I say, I will borrow money if I have to.”

Inside the alley, Han Zhoujin, Ge Ling, and Sui Lin suddenly appeared. After succeeding, Sui Lin collapsed to the ground and was helped up by Ge Ling.

One by one, they immediately returned to the inn.

A figure in a green robe stood with his hands clasped in his sleeves, in the corridor outside the house.

Except for Sui Lin, who was still unconscious and being supported, everyone else stood in the courtyard below the steps.

Yuan Huajing looked like a dead pig unafraid of boiling water, but the sweat on his forehead revealed the extremely unstable Dao heart of this Nascent Soul Sword Cultivator.

Song Xu’s flying sword had been crushed by that Chen Ping’an earlier. Although time had been reversed and the flying sword was unharmed, it had greatly damaged the sword cultivator’s sword heart, and he was now listless.

Bitter Hand trembled whenever he saw Chen Ping’an, regardless of which one it was.

The look in the young Gou Cun’s eyes towards Chen Ping’an had changed from reverence to fear.

The female ghost Gai Yan directly averted her gaze, not daring to look at the Hidden Official at all.

Yu Yu crossed her arms. The young woman’s Dao heart was unusually resilient, and she even seemed somewhat smug. See, we were all wiped out, like chopping vegetables, right?

Chen Ping’an almost couldn’t help but give each of them a punch on the spot. He took a deep breath and said, “Wake up Sui Lin.”

Ge Ling and Lu Hui, who were on either side of Sui Lin, immediately complied.

Sui Lin slowly woke up and was about to clasp his hands to thank the Hidden Official, but Chen Ping’an had already extended his hand, and the pale-faced Sui Lin asked cautiously, “Master Chen?”

Chen Ping’an said, “Since you great masters don’t need to go to the Wilderness World, what are you doing with those Sword-Locking Talismans? Give them all to me.”

Sui Lin quickly took out the stack of golden talismans from his sleeve and gently pushed them towards the young Hidden Official.

Chen Ping’an accepted the talismans and looked at everyone.

Everyone was silent.

Lu Hui, the scholar, understood scholars the most and smiled, “Lending. We are lending them to Master Chen.”

Chen Ping’an put them into his sleeve in a flash.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, and several of them simply sat down on the ground.

Song Xu was about to speak when Yuan Huajing revealed a look of exhaustion and spoke first, “This matter will be recorded by the Ministry of Rites. It’s all my fault, and it has nothing to do with Bitter Hand.”

Chen Ping’an appeared at the entrance of the alley, glanced at the library, and sighed. Senior Brother, if you continue like this, it will really be annoying.

He walked all the way to the entrance of the inn, but the more he thought about it, the more annoyed he became. He immediately turned around, went to the alley entrance, used Land Shrinking, and directly returned to the Immortal Inn. Except for Gou Cun and the Little Monk, the other nine were all knocked to the ground by Chen Ping’an.