In the courtyard of the Opinionated Tower, the old Scholar, well into his cups, declared he must journey to a certain place. He’d long desired to offer his thanks in person, for it was there his purse had first found its true weight, allowing him, for the first time in his life, to assemble a respectable set of scholar’s tools and truly inhabit the life of a learned man.

Chen Ping’an knew where his master intended to go and did not offer to accompany him.

Thus, the old Scholar departed the courtyard and set out from the Capital on a solitary southward journey.

Once, in a humble alley of a small kingdom in the Central Continent, a master and student, one old, one young, had often found themselves scraping the bottom of the barrel. With little else to occupy them, reading offering no sustenance, they would stand idly by the doorway, eagerly awaiting the arrival of a letter from the youth’s family. The contents of the letter mattered little; they waited not for news but for the stipend enclosed within – the wages of a young outlander studying under a local Scholar. Coin was a warrior’s courage, and on certain festival days, such as the anniversary of the Sage, the patron from the Azure Bottle Continent would send a token of respect to the nominal “tutor,” a small but welcome purse of silver.

The impoverished Scholar’s first encounter with a bank note had been the receipt of a particularly generous holiday gift.

On one occasion, however, the letter arrived light as a feather, containing only the missive itself. The Scholar shook it with all his might, but not a single clink of coin or rustle of silver could be heard. Dismayed, the Scholar stood speechless. The youth, conscience-stricken, squatted by the doorway, arms folded. It was not that his family lacked the coin, but his grandfather, displeased by his unauthorized departure and far-flung journey from the Azure Bottle Continent to the Central Continent, where he had sought a tutor of no more than a Scholar’s rank, begrudged every penny. The wealthy Cui Clan of the Azure Bottle Continent could easily have afforded a master of true virtue and knowledge to tutor the youth. Thus, Cui family had been stingy with the allowance.

The Scholar, not yet aged, bore no ill will towards his student. He joined the youth on the doorstep and consoled him, “Blame no one, young one, but your teacher, whose learning is clearly insufficient to please your elders.”

For in the previous letter, the youth’s grandfather had included a question on the arts of governance, a test of the Scholar’s true abilities.

The Scholar toiled through the night, his lamp burning low, squeezing every drop of knowledge from his weary mind. He was not skilled in such matters; had he been, would he not have passed the Imperial Examinations and become a Jinshi long ago? As soon as the letter was sent, the Scholar was consumed by regret, fearing that future payments would vanish along the postal roads.

The youth snatched the sealed letter from his master’s hand, crushed it in his fist, and hurled it at the wall across the alley. The letter bounced back, landing at his feet. Enraged, he rose to stamp upon it, but the Scholar restrained him. “Such talk is unbecoming,” the Scholar chided.

He pulled the youth back to his place, tapped him on the head, bent down, and retrieved the letter. Smoothing it gently, he opened it to find two pieces of paper. One was the letter itself, filled with familiar parental admonishments, ending with the line, “Your tutor’s learning is mediocre, but his Scholar’s title appears genuine, and his calligraphy is passable.”

The other paper was a genuine bank note, worth a full hundred taels of silver.

The Scholar beamed with delight. The youth beside him smiled brightly.

Thereafter, the Scholar, after much frugality and prodded by his student, managed to save some silver and established a small school. Having previously served as a tutor in a struggling private school, the Scholar found himself able to formally accept students, moving from rudimentary studies to the deeper teachings of the classics. This had always been his aspiration. To be surrounded by children speaking gibberish was demeaning, for he felt it was disrespectful to the wisdom and learning he had. Yet, it was a far greater way to earn a living.

In the years that followed, the Scholar took on more students. Of his four direct disciples, the eldest served as his steady source of income, having been with him the longest. The second was a carefree glutton, and the third, though strong as an ox, was always penniless and possessed a prodigious appetite. For a time, the Scholar felt cheated. Fortunately, the eldest had brought back a child of exceptional intelligence and spirit, a natural scholar. The most gifted of his students seemed adverse to the Imperial Examination. Could this small apprentice be a hope for the future?

At long last, the Scholar lived a life beyond his wildest dreams.

Even his own writings were published, though sales at the bookshops were poor. But for a man of learning, to have one’s ideas immortalized in print was a triumph, and the Scholar dared not hope for more.

Aside from Junqian, the third student, Cui Chan, Zuo You, and Qi Jingchun had all been under the Scholar’s tutelage from boyhood to young adulthood.

Many years passed, and the Scholar grew old, eventually taking on a final disciple, Chen Ping’an.

As for the Sage of Literature’s learning – awe-inspiring, incomparable – or his titanic contributions to the Confucian tradition, the old Scholar paid them little heed. Praised or condemned, each had their reasons, and it did not impede his work as a teacher.

But the one thing the old Scholar could not abide was his students suffering injustice. “I may be just a Scholar, but I will raise a ruckus at the Temple of Literature to show you.”

The Embroidered Tiger, descended from the Colorful Cloud Bureau, having betrayed the Sage’s teachings and spent years wandering the world in disgrace, had finally settled in a barbarian land of the Azure Bottle Continent, serving as Grand Preceptor to the Great Li, seeking to impart his knowledge and shape a nation, perhaps even a continent.

After returning to the Azure Bottle Continent, Cui Chan had never once returned to his family.

The old Scholar understood why: half guilt, half anger.

In the distant Capital of the Great Li, the Grand Preceptor Cui Chan had named his library “Opinionated Tower.”

The old Scholar had arrived at the top floor of one of the Cui family’s libraries. Above that was a small attic accessible only by ladder.

The old Scholar stood at the window, gazing out.

Men see the birds pursuing clouds, but can never catch them.

That Cui Dongshan was willing to step forward and lead the subsect was a good thing.

A fresh start.

Chen Ping’an and Xiao Mo left the alley, heading for the inn.

Xiao Mo had been carefully studying the Capital of the Great Li.

This was the Capital of a nation under Heaven, a place of utmost refinement.

Perhaps this was what he had envisioned in his youth for the towns and cities beneath the mountains.

“Master,” Xiao Mo asked, “are there many fourteenth-realm cultivators under Heaven?”

Chen Ping’an shook his head. “Ascension above is rare, regardless of which realm you’re in.”

If one were to consider cultivators not by region but by race, as Humans or Demons, the number of fourteenth-realm cultivators was scant, each for their own reasons.

The existence of the Three Founders.

Bai Ze’s Interception of True Names.

Chen Ping’an intended to open a tavern on his night-voyaging ship, welcoming guests from all directions.

Whether they drank for free would depend on their abilities.

Chen Ping’an had countless ideas for the name of the subsect.

Such was the dilemma of one too skilled at naming things.

And then there was the matter of the life-bound porcelain, which must be resolved.

It was, after all, a matter of fourteen taels of silver.

Not far away, at the inn…

With the master and mistress absent, Cao Mutou had gone to South Scent Ward to visit a fellow graduate of the Imperial Examinations working at the Court of State Ceremonial, while the old Sage of Literature had chosen to sit in the sun by the doorway, awaiting their return. Pei Qian was left to wander the courtyard, a two-courtyard residence with its small gate in the southeast corner. It was a family property of Proprietor Liu, reserved for wealthy guests who did not lack for silver. Given its proximity to Meaning Lane and Reed Flute Street, it was perfect for those seeking official appointments. The house was divided into east and west wings. Cao Qinglang occupied the east wing, while Pei Qian resided in the west wing across from him.

Pei Qian strolled, seemingly at leisure, but in truth, she was practicing the walking stance with astonishing skill. Her shoulders sank, elbows hung heavy, and her qi flowed through her hands. She no longer needed to consciously focus on the stance itself, or the length of her breaths, but with each exhalation of pure martial energy, the landscape within her body transformed – drought and flood, day and night.

It was akin to an ancient god controlling the seasons and weather of his vast domain.

Throughout her journey through the Northern Continent, she had practiced the walking stance at every opportunity, unwilling to let her travels be aimless. As a result, she was developing her own unique understanding of this martial art.

A shapeless stance, a spirited fist.

Such high praise had come from Li Er, not Pei Qian herself.

Therefore, in addition to feeding her fists atop the Lion Peak, Li Er had imparted to Pei Qian a breathing technique passed down through his lineage, using the circulation of pure qi to nourish her muscles and bones.

The last martial principle Li Er taught Pei Qian was profound.

Each stance was like an unyielding mountain, and each thought was like a turbulent river.

Such was the foundation of a perfect landscape. Once one reached the pinnacle of fist fighting, a pure martial artist was no longer protected by divine strength but was “a temple for the gods.”

That was the ultimate state, beyond the tenth-realm of Qi-Strength and the True Return, reaching the so-called “Divine Arrival.”

Pei Qian learned quickly, understanding everything she was taught, and crucially, she could apply it to the smallest details of her daily life.

That was why Li Er had spoken so frankly: setting aside temperament, your martial talent surpasses even your master’s.

Pei Qian, far from being pleased, felt uneasy. She thought Li Er, being from the same hometown as her master, was a masterful teacher, but his words were somewhat unreliable.

Besides Pei Qian in the courtyard was a young girl who since childhood had yearned for the life of a wanderer. A native of the Capital, she was Proprietor Liu’s beloved daughter, named Luchai, with the familiar name of Taimi. She sat on a stool nearby, a basin and cloth at her feet.

The girl helped her family with chores, earning wages to buy dog-eared dime novels from street peddlers. The girl often sighed that she would never have enough coins to buy all the stories!

The girl’s given and familiar names did not seem fitting for a daughter of a small merchant’s family. The Proprietor had been late in life when he finally had a daughter. He despaired over her embroidery skills but even more so over her flightiness, fearing she might never find a husband. However, when he thought of the day she might leave him, his heart ached. Since his daughter was still young, Proprietor Liu did not fret that the matchmakers would come knocking anytime soon.

The girl had planned to use a break from her chores to glean some skills from the other woman.

Guests in the inn all had a name and file, but the girl did not go looking.

All she knew was that she was the master disciple of a sword-wielding wanderer.

And she, Liu Luchai, would one day be a swordswoman, as well.

However, Liu Luchai saw that the young woman had her eyes closed.

Hesitantly, the girl asked, “May I ask your name?”

Pei Qian opened her eyes. “Zheng Qian.”

The girl’s eyes lit up. “What a fine name! Just like the Grandmaster Zheng!”

There were two rumors circulating: one of Grandmaster Zheng, as beautiful as a flower and as slender as a willow, yet possessed of earth-shattering strength.

Another rumor said that Zheng Qian was an Amazon, nearly nine feet tall, muscular and mighty, whose punches could shatter demons into dust.

The girl was amused by her thoughts, but managed to stifle her laughter, saying “You could have another name! A name like Pei Qian!”

Since their inn was close to Meaning Lane and Reed Flute Street, she would hear the local gossip. Some time ago, she heard talk of Zheng Qian from a place called the Fallen Mountain, but then the crowd had gotten too loud, and she did not catch the rest of the story.

Spending money? Earning money? Her two names must have to do with silver!

Pei Qian only smiled.

The girl felt that she had spoken a silly thing.

“Have you seen a travelogue? I missed out on the last one!”

Pei Qian said, “I have.”

Pei Qian, as the first disciple, read many stories her master wrote.

The girl asked, “Are you training now?”

“It is easy to punch, but difficult to stand. The former is hard because you must first learn to step. The second is hard because it requires a thousand days to master.”

Pei Qian nodded. “My master says that it only takes a few days to undo years of hard training.”

The girl jumped to her feet. “I know the theory! All I hear are sounds of fighting! Then the sudden stomp of feet! From the manuals, I know that means that you have exploded all of the joints in your body! Am I good?”

Pei Qian was speechless, and rather than break the girl’s spirit, she stood silent.

However, her heart ached at the sight of the girl’s efforts.

Even the master chef, Wei Hailiang, had once looked at her like that.

Then Pei Qian remembered her original sword forms! They had all been lost!

Pei Qian said, “A good stance is easy, but it is harder to feel. To reach the door is to feel something in your soul. So that we, the Martial Artists, may feel more godly. Even greater is the feeling of mastery. Now that we may command the sword and shield at will.”

“Indeed! Of course!”

Pei Qian smiled “There are a million forms, but only one sword.”

The girl was confused.

Pei Qian said “When you feel the enemy is before you, then your sword will be one.”

Her master had once said that one must make space when climbing. One must block out all others.

Grandmaster Cui had said the same.

The girl nodded. “Great!”

Pei Qian asked “Why do you want to roam the lands?”

The girl sat back down. “It’s good to live the wanderer’s life. You don’t have to marry. It’s better to walk with a pouch of money, stop at a tavern, and leave a piece of silver as you leave. That’s how it works in the books.”

Pei Qian said, “You must be careful with generosity. One does not simply flash coins. True martial artists live a life of pain. The hero of the book shrugs and walks away, but it takes over one hundred days to recover, and the hero is already laughing about it in the next chapter.”

The girl was stunned.

Pei Qian said “Hit yourself in the face as hard as you can.”

The girl was confused.

Was she a trickster?

She must be joking!

Still, she hit herself.

Pei Qian asked “How about that?”

“I am bad, right?”

Pei Qian said “That’s better than I once was.”

Back at Old Dragon City, a nun had pushed against Pei Qian. The black girl had screamed the heavens down.

That was when someone had stopped her training.

The girl said “I’ve decided! From today, I will never train again!”

Pei Qian had not expected that.

She wasn’t meant to be a master. Even Xiao Ya has trouble dealing with his name.

Pei Qian knelt, and rubbed the girl’s cheek. “You might find the wanderer in you without leaving.”

The girl didn’t understand, but knew that Zheng Qian was definitely a swordswoman. “I want to learn to fight!”

Pei Qian shook her head. “I still have much to learn.”

Besides, to train was too hard.

Cao Qinglang found the girls and was ready to talk to Pei Qian.

Chen Ping’an led Xiao Mo.

He can sit on the long bench.

The stranger would need a stool.

Xiao Mo thanked him.

Chen Ping’an asked “What is wrong?”

Pei Qian said “I peeked at the girl.”

Chen Ping’an smiled. “It is done.”

Pei Qian asked “You are not angry?”

Chen Ping’an said “You must protect yourself.”

Pei Qian said “I will try to not make mistakes, and I will fix the ones I make.”

Chen Ping’an said “I trust you.”

Chen Ping’an said “She is a peak fighter.”

“Cao Qinglang is the top in class.”

Chen Ping’an said “This is Daoist Xizhu, codenamed Mòshēng. I have recruited him as a guest of our clan.”

The man and woman remained calm.

The two young students acted cordially toward the new arrival.

Xiao Mo said “Please, just call me Xiao Mo.”

Then, Xiao Mo tried to take out presents.

Chen Ping’an said “It is not necessary.”

Xiao Mo said “It’s just a small trinket.”

Chen Ping’an nodded.

Xiao Mo must be popular.

Strong drinks, and good wine.

Truly, like attracted like.

Pei Qian and Cao Qinglang looked at Chen Ping’an.

Chen Ping’an nodded.

Pei Qian and Cao Qinglang accepted the gifts.

Chen Ping’an could tell that the items were of a high order.

It was something that even he did not have.

The two thanked the warrior.

Xiao Mo just smiled.

The children were quite polite.

Did he misunderstand Lu? Was the demon realm a fine place to be?

Xiao Mo said to Chen Ping’an, “Miss Pei is so young, and is already at the summit?”

Chen Ping’an said “She is still young. But there were others in her place.”

Pei Qian nodded.

Cao Qinglang could feel how proud his master was.

In fact, Chen Ping’an had learned a lot before the journey.

He was holding back his power!

However, Xiao Mo had seen worse.

Xiao Mo was more curious about Cao Qinglang.

Pei Qian trained only to hold back.

She would pick her day and place to finally go forward.

Chen Ping’an told Cao Qinglang about his thoughts on Cui Dongshan.

Cao Qinglang said “That would be best, since you both had decided on something.”

Chen Ping’an said “We are not a monolith, and you are free to speak your mind. You could be the youngest master.”

Cao Qinglang said nothing to that.

In the past, one had to be a Jade Purity realm cultivator to be a leader.

However, Chen Ping’an only hoped for people to be free.

Chen Ping’an wanted Pei Qian and Cao Qinglang to follow their dreams.

For example, Pei Qian was at the top!

Cao Qinglang said “Xun Qu said that you are easy to talk to, and that you do not have the air of a master.”

“He hopes to become that way in the future.”

Chen Ping’an said “He will not regret his decision.”

Chen Ping’an wondered if this was how the Fire Dragon truly felt.

Chen Ping’an said “I will always be in your life. I will not ask you to follow every command. But I will give you direction on the great things. Before you go to the Cotton Leaf Continent, I want you to think it over.”

Chen Ping’an knew that it would happen one day.

Cao Qinglang said “I do not fear debate. I will correct my wrongs.”

Chen Ping’an nodded “There will be many. Consider their thoughts. Do not be critical. Solving problems is cultivation.”

Chen Ping’an said “Those with good measure often know the best way. You must give all people a margin of error. Those with a discerning eye often seek perfection without knowing.”

“Those who are talented are the wisest.”

“Never forget that everyone has emotion.”

Chen Ping’an asked “Is it good to talk about things one at a time?”

Cao Qinglang said “That is good.”

Chen Ping’an asked “Have you wondered if you still deny the others?”

Cao Qinglang nodded.

Chen Ping’an said “You must learn to accept first.”

“You must learn to recognize the other side.”

“It will take time, effort, and sincerity.”

Cao Qinglang nodded. “I understand the order of things now.”

Chen Ping’an said “Think more. Is there anything missing?”

Cao Qinglang was deep in thought.

Pei Qian looked to speak.

Chen Ping’an nodded to her.

Pei Qian said “That must be the logic of strong men.”

“Those who are stronger can break your spirit.”

Chen Ping’an said “That is the crux.”

Chen Ping’an asked “Do you believe that you can become strong? And is that with reference to me? Or to Mi Li?”

Pei Qian’s eyes widened. “I understand.”

Cao Qinglang stood and bowed.

Pei Qian just glared at him.

A brown-noser!

Cao Qinglang was the craftiest of them all.

Chen Ping’an said “All things are inside.”

Cao Qinglang asked “Do you think you will begin to act like us?”

Chen Ping’an smiled. “That is what I fear.”

However, Chen Ping’an hoped that everyone could be different.

Xiao Mo had been listening to the masters. He would have to study harder.

Chen Ping’an said “Return to the Fallen Mountain. I must complete the work here.”

Pei Qian was worried.

She had seen the state of things.

Chen Ping’an waved his hand and led Xiao Mo away.

Chen Ping’an bought some pastry and some wine, spending exactly fourteen silver taels.

Then, he would go to the palace.