## The River Runs Through It

Beneath a velvet sky, Chen Ping’an and Xiao Mo stood at the rail of the ferry, Liqueur’s Grace. Far below, the tapestry of land and river unwound like threads of silk.

Elevating one’s gaze, Chen Ping’an mused that if the heavens lacked walls, then human perception was like a phantom barricade, each soul imprisoned within its own confines.

Xiao Mo inquired, “Does the young master await someone?”

“I await the master of this ferry.”

Chen Ping’an glanced towards the third deck, then resumed his stroll with Xiao Mo along the bow. The Liqueur’s Grace, he knew, was more than just a vessel; it was a celestial artifact, capable of summoning rain. Since the founding of the Great Li Dynasty by the Song clan, and until a mere century past, the Song were vassals of the Lu Dynasty, beset by internal strife and external threats. They would often beseech the Long Spring Palace to loan them this floating mountain, easing droughts in their provinces by inviting celestial masters to conjure life-giving rain. It was said the Great Li had accrued a vast debt, which the Long Spring Palace never sought to collect. Thus, when the Great Li rose to power, each Song Emperor treated the Long Spring Palace monks with exceptional favor. If not for their lack of a Jade Purity Realm cultivator, they would have undoubtedly ranked amongst the great sects. The Emperor himself would surely have graced the celebratory rites.

Chen Ping’an explained, “We boarded this vessel unbidden. To depart without a word would be a grave breach of etiquette, a grievous offense upon the mountains.”

“Yet, to announce ourselves to the ferry’s warden might arouse suspicion within the Long Spring Palace itself.”

“It matters less in the North Entirety Continent, but customs differ. Each land breeds its own people.”

Xiao Mo smiled. “To be in the young master’s company is to learn the ways of the world, lessons absent from dusty tomes.”

Chen Ping’an ignored the compliment, choosing instead to regale Xiao Mo with tales of the Long Spring Palace and the Great Li Song clan’s shared past.

Xiao Mo now viewed the native Great Li sect with newfound respect. “They have weathered the storm together. The Long Spring Palace has waited long for the clouds to part.”

Chen Ping’an nodded. “A fellowship forged in adversity is a boon indeed.”

“Xiao Mo,” he continued, “when you eventually leave Destitute Mountain, the Nine Provinces of the Vast Lands are yours to explore. But above all, you must journey to the North Entirety Continent.”

“Yes, young master. I shall venture north when the opportunity arises.”

They moved from bow to stern, gazing towards the frozen north.

In the North Entirety Continent, when a sword immortal falls in a foreign land, the entire continent celebrates with a Sword Offering, swords lifted in honor of the fallen, friend or foe.

Like the Bone Beach, where the Ghoul Valley’s King Guan’s Lord would actively offer a fist, expending vast spiritual energy to pierce the celestial barriers, allowing the sword cultivator Pu Rang to elevate his ritual sword higher.

It seemed the Ghoul Valley could not be outdone in the Sword Offering, nor its sword-light dimmed.

And nearby, Mount Wooden Raiment, sworn enemy of the King Guan’s Lord and his city, would never seize the opportunity, never engage in any offensive measures against King Guan.

But Chen Ping’an chose not to elaborate on this matter.

Though the sight was grand and deeply moving, he prayed never to witness it again.

Too many of the North Entirety Continent’s sword immortals had perished in the foreign battlefields of the Sword Qi Great Wall and the Treasure Bottle Continent, battlefields where they might have remained uninvolved.

Upon the third deck, a beautiful woman, her youthful grace preserved through cultivation, dressed plainly as a matron with no makeup, radiated an air of quiet dignity. She had inadvertently locked eyes with Chen Ping’an, and despite her composure, she sighed inwardly. “If it is fate, one cannot escape.” She, Gan Yi, was the current warden of the Liqueur’s Grace. Had she her druthers, she would have feigned ignorance, allowed him to board and disembark unseen. But curiosity had overruled her better judgement. She had allowed herself a few furtive glances towards the bow.

She found the legendary figure, the green-robed sword immortal, impossible to ignore.

Taking a deep breath, she smoothed a stray strand of hair, adjusting the folds of her Daoist robe.

A martial arts competition between Yu Hong’s disciple had caused a ruckus. The ferry normally handled such common conflicts with an invisible hand. However, if it escalated to immortal combat, that would be a different story; they would be asked to disembark.

Then someone aboard the Liqueur’s Grace noticed two unfamiliar Qi practitioners watching the spectacle, unlisted in the registry. A second glance almost made their souls flee. One of them was none other than Chen Ping’an, Sect Master of Destitute Mountain, infamous for breaching the sanctity of the Ancestral Hall on Righteous Sun Mountain and erecting a monument upon its borders. He called it mere observation.

The female cultivator responsible for monitoring the ferry’s anomalies quickly informed Warden Gan, seeking her guidance.

Should they be expelled? Asked to pay their dues?

Ultimately, it was the Warden’s decision whether to invite the sword immortal for wine, or perhaps merely tea.

Composing herself, Warden Gan performed a swift spell, traversing the deck until she stood before the green-robed sword immortal and his single attendant.

It was no exaggeration to say she approached with a brave face.

Compared to most mountain sects, the Long Spring Palace was one of the best-informed groups in the Treasure Bottle Continent.

As a Gold Core Earth Immortal and an elder with a seat in the Ancestral Hall – a seat placed near the front, no less – she knew more about the inner workings of the mountains than the listed monks of Righteous Sun Mountain, Old Dragon City, and Cloudglow Mountain. She had heard whispers of terrible truths.

Seeing the young mountain lord of Destitute Mountain, she gathered her skirts and offered a courteous bow. “Greetings, Sect Master Chen. I am Gan Yi, Daoist name Mist Pine, currently Warden of this vessel.”

Anxious to avoid any impropriety with her name, she quickly added, “It is the ‘sweet’ of ‘sweetness’ and the ‘joy’ of ‘inner peace’.”

Chen Ping’an clasped his hands in respectful acknowledgement. “Greetings, Warden Gan.”

Xiao Mo assessed Gan Yi, her vitality shining brightly in her eyes.

The Gold Core female cultivator possessed keen eyes and dimples that danced on her cheeks. She appeared, undeniably, to be a woman of good countenance.

Chen Ping’an introduced his companion. “This is Xiao Mo, my honored guard. ‘Small’ and ‘strange’.”

Xiao Mo returned the greeting with a bow and a warm smile. “I am honored to meet Immortal Gan.”

Gan Yi reciprocated the bow. “The honor is mine, Immortal Xiao Mo.”

For all she knew, this unassuming man could be another sword immortal in disguise.

The Long Spring Palace had been burnt before. Gan Yi would not err on the side of caution.

Tentatively, she asked, “Does Sect Master Chen travel homeward to Destitute Mountain?”

Chen Ping’an shook his head. “I have two old friends from the Jianghu aboard. I came to see them, share some wine, and now prepare to return to the capital. I apologize for our intrusion.”

She had almost offered to waive the fee for the Liqueur’s Grace’s stop at Oxhorn Crossing.

She caught herself just in time.

Discussing finances with the wealthy Long Spring Palace would be foolish at best.

Her mind racing, Gan Yi asked cautiously, “Might your friends be Grandmaster Yu Da?”

She hated to ask, lest she stir up complications, but she dared not leave the question unasked.

These high-ranking mountain cultivators often spoke in riddles, their words heavy with hidden meanings.

Every utterance seemed frivolous, yet none were without significance.

She could not afford to dismiss the penniless, young sword immortal as a simpleton who rose to power on luck alone.

If it was Yu Hong, the fare had already been paid. To return it would be a clumsy, base maneuver.

There were other, subtler ways to compensate. Perhaps she could send a few jars of the Long Spring Palace’s finest wine to the party.

Otherwise, it would hardly be worth fawning so over a mere Ninth-Realm martial artist, aged and unlikely to break through to the next level.

Though not a Sect, the Long Spring Palace was the most prominent celestial family in the Great Li Dynasty, second only to the Dragon Spring Sword Sect. What’s more, it was based near the Dragon Rise Grounds of the Great Li Song clan.

Of course, now there was also the Sect-grade Destitute Mountain.

Chen Ping’an shook his head. “No, it’s Old Gang Leader Zhu and Old Sir Yu. As it happens, both now serve as elders in Fushui Hall.”

Gan Yi understood instantly. Three jars of wine it would be.

And a gift for Yu Hong too, lest Chen Ping’an’s Jianghu friends feel slighted.

As Chen Ping’an prepared to take his leave, Gan Yi suddenly interjected. “Sect Master Chen, the Long Spring Palace has been slow to acknowledge the assistance of Great Sword Immortal Mi back then. For that, we remain eternally grateful. If there were any shortcomings along that journey, we ask for the Great Sword Immortal’s understanding.”

Years ago, the Long Spring Palace dispatched a band of female cultivators from the “Qilin Wander” lineage on a southern tour of exploration. All went smoothly, save for one unforeseen incident that struck close to home.

En route, they passed by Mount Draping Clouds. The North Peak Mountain Lord’s mansion had a guest registrar, Yu Mi, returning south to his home. The two parties traveled together for the sake of safety.

Mount Draping Clouds explained that Yu Mi was a distant relative of Lord Wei, possessing the View of Seas Realm and an aptitude for sword talismans. He was quite powerful, despite having cultivated for less than sixty years.

It was all lies…

Chen Ping’an smiled and nodded. “Very well, I shall convey your words. But I have also heard Mi Yu’s account of the matter. He spoke highly of the Long Spring Palace, praising the elders’ diligence in providing safe passage and the juniors’ willingness to learn. It made for a pleasant journey.”

Gan Yi’s face lit up with relief.

The unpredictable nature of a sword immortal from the Sword Qi Great Wall made it impossible to let one’s guard down. The matter had been discussed countless times, and was never decided, in the Long Spring Palace Ancestral Hall.

Chen Ping’an’s words were reassuring, but could not be taken at face value.

Yet, if he had not bothered with pleasantries at all, that would have been a grave matter indeed.

She had hoped to conduct a simple, uneventful meeting. Instead, she had inadvertently resolved a long-standing problem for her sect.

During their southern tour, the Long Spring Palace had subdued a mischievous painting spirit from Cloud Mountain Temple within the borders of the Yellow Court Kingdom. They then freed an old soldier from captivity and escorted the spirit of a Great Li general home to the Treasure Bottle Continent’s heartland. Finally, and most importantly, they sought to purchase a small sliver of ten-thousand-year pine for the late General Su Gaoshan.

The Long Spring Palace’s highest Elder held a certain history with Old Ancestor Qin of Great Salamander Gully. As such, they believed the endeavor was not entirely without hope. However, when they inquired about purchasing a slice of the pine, they were met with cold denial. The ancient tree, named “Longing,” grew upon the Snowwind Temple’s Divine Terrace and nominally belonged to Great Sword Immortal Wei Jin.

Thus, the Long Spring Palace cultivators returned empty-handed, unable to fulfill their mission to the Great Li general’s envoy. One, however, did manage to snag a pine sliver for Han Biya at Oxhorn Mountain ferry crossing as “Yu Mi” departed.

Upon confirming the pine sliver’s authenticity, the Long Spring Palace was baffled. How had a mid-Fifth Realm cultivator from Mount Draping Clouds acquired such a treasure?

Purchase it?

Even if Mountain Lord Wei Bi himself made the offer, the Snowwind Temple would never agree.

Steal it?

Who possessed the skill to bypass the Snowwind Temple’s defenses, let alone climb the ancient “Longing” pine?

Later, during the fierce battles at Old Dragon City, an unknown but remarkably powerful sword immortal emerged, his swordsmanship impeccable. He took great pleasure in bisecting demon earth immortals.

Moreover, he appeared to be acquainted with Lady Li Cai, the sword immortal from the North Entirety Continent.

The Long Spring Palace and Great Li intelligence operatives swiftly identified him as none other than the “View of Seas Realm” Yu Mi.

And when Destitute Mountain clashed with Righteous Sun Mountain, it became clear that he was Mi Yu, the Jade Purity Realm sword immortal who often sleeps amongst the clouds!

His elder brother, Mi Hu, was once considered a candidate for the Ascension Realm.

It was said amongst Great Li soldiers that those who had witnessed the most death saw the living with eyes for the dead. Their hands were steady as they killed.

It would be the same, if not moreso, at Sword Qi Great Wall.

The Long Spring Palace Elder responsible for escorting “Yu Mi”, who had often treated him with disdain, now felt a chill at her nape, as if she had grazed the doorway to the underworld.

Chen Ping’an was puzzled. Given the Long Spring Palace’s elevated standing in the Great Li mountains and its lack of conflict with Destitute Mountain, Gan Yi’s constraint seemed unwarranted.

But warranted it was.

Unknown to Chen Ping’an, there existed various informal circles among the mountains, such as the ferry wardens, who maintained close personal relationships and shared information for mutual benefit.

And thanks to his actions during the “Spring Banner House” incident at Upturned Mountain, he, the last Concealed Official of Sword Qi Great Wall, held unimaginable sway within this loose “fraternity” of cross-continental ferries.

Rumors, magnified and embellished, ran wild.

The recent repeal of the restrictions on mountain and water gazettes by the Confucian Temple had only amplified the effect…

A strange competition was taking place among the ferry wardens of the Vast Lands.

A warden of a cross-continental vessel looked down on those limited to a single continent. A warden who had ventured to Upturned Mountain and assisted the Sword Qi Great Wall looked down on those who hadn’t done business with Sword Qi Great Wall. A warden who had been invited inside Spring Banner House looked down on those poor souls who remained outside.

And a small number of wardens who had personally participated in the “Mountain Summit Conference” looked down on those who had not witnessed the “Concealed Official’s” prowess firsthand.

Now, this tiny coterie of ferry wardens held their heads high, casting scorn upon their peers.

“How could you possibly understand the turbulent undercurrents of that conference, the life-threatening danger, the endless waves at Spring Banner House?”

“There, we stood, face to face, the Concealed Official leading a dozen sword immortals, poised to shut the doors and unleash bloodshed!”

Gan Yi, as the warden of the Liqueur’s Grace, had heard these shrouded whispers.

She knew exactly who stood before her.

Not simply Chen, Mountain Lord, nor a disciple of the Sage’s lineage, but the last Concealed Official of Sword Qi Great Wall.

During the Long Spring Palace’s most recent Ancestral Hall meeting, the Palace Lord had made a cryptic statement: “Our Great Li is not far from the North Entirety Continent.”

Gan Yi adopted an earnest expression. “If Sect Master Chen is not pressed for time, might I offer a taste of our Long Spring Palace wine?”

Chen Ping’an declined. “I shall not impose. Xiao Mo and I must be on our way.”

The Long Spring Palace had been selected for Sect consideration by the Great Li court. They had not needed to lobby for it.

When Song Changjing requested three additional Sect slots from the Confucian Temple, the Long Spring Palace did not scramble for them. Perhaps out of fear of inconveniencing the Great Li Song clan, they had never attempted to secure a place, indicating their remarkable sense of propriety.

Chen Ping’an knew the three slots were already designated: the sub-sect of Righteous Sun Mountain, christened the Bamboo Mountain Sword Sect by Bamboo Emperor; a large temple near Dragon Pool on Goose Roost Mountain; and Cao Rong’s Daoist temple.

Thus, the Long Spring Palace would not be elevated to Sect status, but its designation as a Sect candidate was more than a symbolic gesture. Should the Great Li army achieve further victories in the Wildlands, the Long Spring Palace could be granted an exception by the Confucian Temple, even without a Jade Purity Realm master, allowing them to fill a vacant position. The Godly Edict Sect’s sub-sect and Cloudglow Mountain would have to wait their turn.

Seeing Chen Ping’an’s rejection, Gan Yi betrayed a hint of disappointment.

She dared not joke with him so easily.

Otherwise, she might have confessed a truth that was not entirely a joke.

If Sect Master Chen would visit the Long Spring Palace, even for a fleeting visit, the young madams would tear each other apart for the privilege of serving him wine. All would forget their sisterhood.

There were young female cultivators who openly declared that if Sword Immortal Chen were to visit, they would stage a dramatic stumble, hoping not to fall directly into his arms, but at least to receive his comforting hand!

Chen Ping’an knew nothing of these scandalous rumors swirling within the sect.

Had he known, the Long Spring Palace would never see the face of Sect Master Chen for centuries.

Chen Ping’an bid farewell.

His green-robed figure dissolved into a dozen streaks of light, vanishing from the ferry in an instant.

Xiao Mo bowed and smiled, taking his leave of Gan Yi before disappearing as well, leaving not a ripple in the air.

The Liqueur’s Grace’s defenses were completely bypassed. Gan Yi thought nothing of it.

Dusk painted the sky with hues of fiery crimson.

Unburdened by urgency, Chen Ping’an allowed his sword-light to coalesce, then dissipate again, regrouping hundreds of li to the north.

Abandoning this imperfectly-mastered technique, he strolled along a path of fiery clouds, turning to Xiao Mo with a smile. “A local saying: ‘Red sky at night, traveler’s delight.’ Before settling in the Li Jewel Paradise, few truly traveled far. They stayed close to home, perhaps venturing into the mountains for firewood and charcoal, returning before nightfall. Such journeys rarely exceeded a hundred li.”

The kiln fires of his hometown had witnessed countless dawns and dusks.

Zhou Haijing, Zhu Fengxian, and Yu Cangmang had revealed the need for Destitute Mountain to have its own Mirrorflower Watermoon and use it to gather news from the mountains. Therefore, the mountain would not only need to establish an intelligence agency, but viewing other sects’ Mirrorflower Watermoons would require a small fortune in immortal coins. To watch other sects’ information, it was necessary to purchase mountain treasures. Fortunately, Zhu Lian, Great Sword Immortal Mi, and Chen Lingjun were well-suited for such tasks.

Destitute Mountain’s protective formation was both offensive and defensive.

It already possessed Old Guan’s True Form Map of the Five Peaks, and a sword immortal painting hung within the old Mountain God shrine atop the peak.

His recent journey into the Wildlands had been remarkably fruitful. In Jade Tablet City of the Cloud Pattern Dynasty, Emperor Ye Pu, Daoist name “Unrivaled,” had gifted him twelve flying swords.

Combined with the array diagrams gifted by Mount Taiping, the offensive sword formation to be built within the Ancestral Hall on Jise Peak would possess formidable power. Capable of slaying a Jade Purity Realm master, it could intimidate even an immortal.

The cost of such projects dampened his spirits, so he reminded himself that he was an unlisted retainer of the Liu clan of Snowy White Continent.

Listed retainers were required to make regular appearances. Unlisted retainers were bound by no such obligations. It was essentially receiving money for doing nothing.

Beside him, Xiao Mo, with nimble hands, wove a pair of Cloud-Stepping Void-Traversing Slippers of pure white hue and clear high quality.

Walking easily upon the sea of clouds, Chen Ping’an asked casually, “Xiao Mo, when do you think Wei Jin will attain the Ascension Realm?”

Xiao Mo considered the question. “Wei Jin possesses considerable talent. He also received that opportunity. But if he avoids fighting, fails to temper his heart in life-and-death struggles, and neglects to seek out swordmasters, it will take perhaps four or five centuries before he reaches the bottleneck…”

Catching himself, Xiao Mo quickly corrected, “I should say, the Immortal Realm.”

Chen Ping’an asked, “Were the earth immortals of antiquity truly so powerful?”

Xiao Mo smiled. “Not extraordinarily powerful, but certainly not weak. It was exceedingly difficult for an earth immortal to ascend to godhood. The first hurdle alone was equivalent to fighting a peak Immortal Realm sword cultivator. Two more trials awaited them. One, it was said, tested the cultivator’s heart. Therefore, even with two Ascension Platforms in existence, the majority of earth immortals dared not step upon them, fearing certain death. And if they waited until their bodies and souls were decaying, seeking a final desperate gamble to prolong their lives, they were equally doomed. The end result was that few earth immortals ever ascended to godhood.”

“When I was bored, in my less-swordy youth, I would sit near the Ascension Platform, watching others attempt to ascend. Time after time, I never witnessed anyone reach the highest Gate of Heaven. They all perished along the way, their bodies and souls…blooming like flowers, their efforts adding only a surge of spiritual energy to the world. I found it quite sad.”

“Had Wei Jin lived in that era, I believe he would have reached the summit of the Ascension Platform.”

Chen Ping’an chuckled. “With Wei Jin’s generous spirit, attaining the Ascension Realm would be no difficult feat.”

Wei Jin, as the sole practitioner of the Divine Terrace lineage, found the ancient pine named “Longing” a constant source of frustration.

If not for the deep connection between the pine and the mountain’s root system, making it nearly impossible to relocate, Wei Jin would have let the Great Salamander Gully, the Greenwater Pool, or the Wenqing Peak cart it away long ago.

As it was, the Snowwind Temple was constantly overwhelmed by requests for its branches and bark. Every credentialed master and official, common women and female cultivators alike, sought it for its medicinal properties.

Despite numerous requests, the Snowwind Temple refused to part with the pine, showing a surprising lack of compassion.

Though Wei Jin had told the sect on two occasions that they were free to do as they pleased with “Longing” during his absences, he had spent so few days on the mountain since his first descent that even his Core Transformation Realm seclusion had taken place elsewhere.

Wei Jin could not help but wonder if the Snowwind Temple were using him as an excuse to avoid selling the pine.

During his last visit to Snowwind Temple, Wei Jin had considered taking on a nominal disciple.

Regardless of his feelings towards Snowwind Temple, the Divine Terrace lineage must continue.

He tasked Mountain Lord Chen with seeking a suitable sword cultivator.

Wei Jin had only one requirement: the child must be native to the Treasure Bottle Continent.

They would be his first disciple. His last would be selected himself.

He had also discussed another matter with Chen Ping’an: if Chen Ping’an desired the ancient pine, he should negotiate with the Snowwind Temple directly. Wei Jin had already given his consent. If the Snowwind Temple agreed and Destitute Mountain could meet the asking price, the ancient pine could be moved to Destitute Mountain.

But Chen Ping’an had no such intentions. He was not immune to temptation. Rather, he suspected the Snowwind Temple of awaiting the pine’s transformation, which might lead to its ascension to the Upper Five Realms and the honor of becoming a protective guardian of the Snowwind Temple.

Especially after the death of the Old Moving Mountain Ape from Righteous Sun Mountain, once again leaving a vacancy in Treasure Bottle Continent for a high-ranking monster, the Snowwind Temple would never sell the ten-thousand-year pine that was destined for the Great Path.

Moreover, as the ancient pine was named “Longing,” it likely possessed some hidden provenance.

Chen Ping’an would not seek to invite a rebuff from the Snowwind Temple.

At the Liqueur’s Grace, Gan Yi remained fixated on the distant figure.

All the Treasure Bottle Continent lamented the fact that Great Sword Immortal Wei of Snowwind Temple had not brought even one or two potential sword immortals back from Sword Qi Great Wall.

Regardless of how the other seven continents viewed these children from afar, they could walk with impunity on Treasure Bottle and North Entirety Continent.

The mountain cultivators of the two neighboring continents would serve as their protectors.

Gan Yi had almost asked a question: did Sect Master Chen’s Destitute Mountain harbor young sword cultivators from the Sword Qi Great Wall?

However, as she was not a sword cultivator, such a question would be improper.

Turning, Gan Yi smiled, radiating charm.

“Ha, the Concealed Official graced my vessel!”

She would have a tale to tell.

Time for wine.

—–

The Great Li capital, the dawn hours. Xun Qu, a clerk from the Court of State Ceremonies, once again delivered imperial gazettes from the Six Ministries to the “As People Say” pavilion for Chen Ping’an.

Chen Ping’an had returned to the capital the previous night, finding Ning Yao still secluded within the inn. He had spent the night reading, while Xiao Mo hung up his “Do Not Disturb” sign and went to the lit capital, returning to the courtyard to sew some green robes.

He was afraid his gifts to Destitute Mountain would be inadequate.

Chen Ping’an led Xiao Mo out of the alley to meet Xun Qu.

Xun Qu noted that Chen’s entourage had grown by one. He only knew that the young man was named Xiao Mo, an offering from Destitute Mountain.

He seemed a friendly and approachable mountain immortal.

Chen Ping’an accepted the gazettes and, as agreed, ventured with Xun Qu to a famed scenic spot in the capital.

A street of over a mile in length, lined with rare books, ancient paintings and calligraphy, brushes, inkstones, paper, and curiosities of all kinds.

Once a government kiln for the creation of glazed tiles and azure bricks, many shops along the street had histories spanning two or three centuries. They took pride in repeat customers, and were loath to tarnish their reputation. Though they were known to be haughty at times, counterfeit goods were rare. To visit this refined capital site, one needed a bulging pocketbook. Otherwise, one would only stare longingly, destined to return empty-handed.

Following a signal from Xun, Chen purchased three favorite books, whose paper was as fine as white jade, and whose origins were good. Common scholars, like men seeing a beautiful woman, could only admire from afar.

Chen Ping’an gifted Xun Qu six books in total. Three would be billed to the Court of State Ceremonies for around two hundred and eighty taels of silver.

The other three would come from his own pocket as a gift to the young official.

On their way back, Xun Qu hesitated, then asked in a quiet voice, “Is Mr. Chen not curious as to why I am a cultivator?”

Of course, Mr. Chen’s cultivation and insight would have surely seen through it.

Chen Ping’an smiled. “Each finds their own path. There is no need to delve deeper.”

A View of Seas Realm cultivator in their thirties was not low.

Once, in Treasure Bottle Continent, mid-Fifth Realm cultivators were considered immortals and great demons.

Chen Ping’an suppressed a smile and asked, “Does Cao Qinglang not also walk the same path?”

Xun Qu shook his head, bewildered. “I never noticed.”

Chen Ping’an said, “All the better. When you meet again, you will have another topic to discuss.”

Xun Qu murmured to himself, “Goodness. Always pretending to be poor.”

Seeing Chen Ping’an’s amused gaze, Xun Qu grew embarrassed. “Mr. Chen, unlike Cao Qinglang, I truly am poor. I’ve never been able to hold onto money.”

Chen Ping’an teased, “You are still an official. ‘Poverty begets brilliance.’ It is good that you lack funds. Perhaps you will create great art and become a great official. Then, when I return, I will have a supporter in the capital.”

Xun Qu was speechless.

Unlike Cao Qinglang, Xun Qu’s progress in the capital was slow, since he had tested to the Imperial Examination’s Class B, resulting in his placement at the Court of State Ceremonies, which ranked beneath the Six Ministries.

He didn’t think he’d get to be an official of any importance, let alone an official that could do something for Mr. Chen.

Xun Qu hesitated again. “My master says he knew Mr. Chen long ago.”

Chen Ping’an smiled. “Might I ask the name of this esteemed individual?”

Xun Qu said, “My master is a senior clerk in the Ministry of Rites’ Department of Sacrifices.”

Chen Ping’an understood.

Among the many clerks of the Great Li court, the Department of Examination of the Ministry of Personnel, the Department of Military Selection of the Ministry of War, and the Department of Sacrifices of the Ministry of Rites were most influential. Despite holding the position of Senior Clerk, which was a mere Grade Five official, they wielded great power. In particular, Xun Qu’s mentor, the senior clerk of the Department of Sacrifices, oversaw the merits of the mountains and waters, earning the title of “Little Heavenly Official.”

This senior clerk, who had held his position for many years, was said to be an old friend of Li Jin, the Water God of Flushing Amber River.

Most recently, he had appeared at Red Candle Town to deal with the trouble caused by the Jade Dew River Goddess.

But such officials, like Overseer Cao Gengxin of his hometown, were not to be actively courted by Destitute Mountain.

To Chen Ping’an, “understanding” was “knowing when to stop.”

It involved knowing what to do and what not to do.

Xun Qu escorted Chen Ping’an to an inn’s door near the alley.

All the while, he had been recalling the words of the Minister of the Court of State Ceremonies, and his repeated questions.

Supreme Councilor Cui Chan, was said to be unconcerned with old Master Guan’s Ministry of Personnel and Ministry of Rites. As for the Court of State Ceremonies, he never graced it with his presence.

However, the Supreme Councilor paid close attention to the Ministry of War’s Armory Department, as well as the various departments of the Ministry of Revenue and the Ministry of Works.

Thus, the clerk of the Armory Department was said to hold a dangerous position.

Moreover, it was said that the Supreme Councilor reviewed the resumes of even minor officials of the Ministry of Revenue and the Ministry of Works. The promotions and transfers of the clerks were even more closely scrutinized.

Xun Qu was now unsure if his actions at the Court of State Ceremonies had already fallen under the Supreme Councilor’s watchful eyes.

Chen Ping’an returned the wooden box containing the letter-carrying flying sword, smiling. “I will give the gazettes to Liu Jia before leaving the capital. Please seek them from him.”

Xun Qu thanked him.

He knew that Mr. Chen had provided him with a discreet avenue in the capital.

A cultivator overseeing the Supreme Councilor’s residence was seemingly insignificant, yet was, actually, very important.

Xiao Mo had purchased the most books.

Last night, he had visited the immortal inn recommended by Chen, which, like mountain ferries, had a place similar to a pawnshop where cultivators could exchange immortal coins.

Xiao Mo had exchanged all three Summer Heat Coins gifted by Chen for snowflake coins, bills, and gold leaves and silver ingots.

Xiao Mo asked the inn to provide him with a large bag of gold melon seeds.

They would serve a purpose at Destitute Mountain.

The female ghost cultivator who claimed to be the innkeeper had hesitated, as gold melon seeds were rare. Wealthy families gifted them to their children. No cultivators needed them, let alone Jianghu wanderers. However, when the young cultivator said he was an attendant of Mr. Chen, the innkeeper promptly melted over a dozen gold ingots and hand-crafted the melon seeds. She refused to take any payment.

Today, besides the classics, Xiao Mo had also bought a number of miscellaneous books.

Collections of poetry, scholar’s notes, tales of the strange, even examination essays and “martial arts manuals” for the Imperial Examinations.

Chen Ping’an teased, “Hoping to become a mandarin through the examinations? That will be quite a task. County examinations, prefectural examinations, then the triennial provincial examination to become a graduate, then the metropolitan examination, finally the palace examination. Each step presents a formidable challenge, like a carp leaping the dragon gate.”

“However, if you truly desire it, you could have Cao Qinglang tutor you. It would be more reliable than those so-called manuals.”

“The Great Li examinations are, without a doubt, the most difficult in the Vast Lands. There are too many candidates. The talented from vassal states flock to the capital. Moreover, the Ministry of Rites draws from a broad range of knowledge. On the southern side of Treasure Bottle Continent, some small countries have published official guides listing the essays, precedents, and cases one would study. If you memorized them, it could serve as a shortcut. Although, those who overstudy can be the most lost.”

“So, if you wish to become the top scholar, you should spend a decade in a country south of the capital. There, they begin with calligraphy. Afterward, they go to private academies if they can afford it, and public schools if they can’t. They learn the classics, learning their essays.”

Xiao Mo listened intently to the young master’s words.

Chen Ping’an noticed the curious gaze, as if wondering why he was so interested in the matter.

Chen Ping’an nodded and smiled. “You guessed it. I did consider taking the examinations. During my second long journey, in my spare time, I read many related books, wondering if I should start by becoming a student and aiming for the rank of graduate, which would be satisfying. A silver scholar and a gold graduate.”

Now, of course, it was irrelevant. Cao Qinglang had taken his place.

Xiao Mo sighed.

He had no desire for worldly fame. But he was stunned by the fact that books and knowledge were so cheap.

Reminded of when it was so rare and valuable.

Xiao Mo decided that he would build a library at Destitute Mountain, naming it Myriad Volume Hall.

Or better yet, have Chen help him find a good name.

Xiao Mo told Chen his thoughts.

Chen replied, “How about ‘Two Vaguely Remembering Hall’?”

Xiao Mo checked the hundred poems in his heart, realizing the reference.

“Magnificent!”

As a sword cultivator, he loved collecting books.

“A sword and a book in hand, two vaguely remembering.”

The book and the sword, two vaguely remembering, yes. Two Vaguely Remembering Hall!

Chen Ping’an said, “Of course, whether you use the name is up to you.”

Xiao Mo’s eyes shone with excitement. “Young master, this name is too exquisite to be shared.”

Chen Ping’an folded his sleeves and gave a sidelong glance.

Xiao Mo hastened to add, “Then I shall use it. Shared joy is doubled joy.”

Night fell, and the taverns lining the banks of the Iris River twinkled like scattered jewels.

Festive lanterns hung from the eaves, as the sounds of revelry and drinking games spilled into the streets, punctuated by the gentle melodies of songstresses.

It was said that some, with no lack of coin, could traverse the length of the Iris River from dusk to dawn, partaking in four or five banquets along the way.

Tonight, a scion of the Guan clan of Yizhou rarely seen frequenting such places was hosting a private gathering.

He had dragged Jing Kuan, a colleague who was not quite a friend, from the office, and the two made a beeline for the Iris River.

Guan Yiran and Jing Kuan were from different backgrounds, like clouds and mud. They had managed to secure the same office.

Though Guan Yiran had served with distinction on the frontier, with a strong bureaucratic history, and was a near certainty to be the next vice minister, Jing Kuan, born of humble origins, had been appointed clerk of a department in his early thirties, a notable achievement that showed the openness of the Great Li bureaucracy.

Someone ahead rubbed their head and cursed, having been struck by a wad of spit.

Jing Kuan whispered, “Yiran, I’m nervous. What should I say to the sword immortal?”

Guan Yiran had not lived in the capital for many years and was also unfamiliar with the place. He only chuckled in response.

Jing Kuan continued, “What are the taboos? Tell me quickly. Don’t play deaf.”

Guan Yiran teased, “Taboos? Only one. Should your drinking fail to