As the year drew to a close, another flurry of heavy snow descended, scattering like countless shards of jade.

A military ferry belonging to the Great Quan Dynasty had already sailed far beyond the northern border. In a few more hours, it would reach the Immortal Metropolis Mountain docks.

An elderly man, draped in a worn and heavy fox fur coat, had been traveling north on this ship. Occasionally, he would leave his cabin, walk to the railing, and gaze at the winding mountains and rivers through the snow.

“To verify the signs of a bountiful year, the ethereal algae drift down.”

No longer was it the desolate scene of barren fields and countless skeletons beneath the mountains, with only apes clinging to withered vines and cranes watching over crumbling tombstones.

Beside the ferry, a figure in a cyan robe suddenly materialized from the clouds and mist, hovering in the swirling snow.

The man wore a long cyan gown, an jade hairpin adorned his hair, and twin sabers were strapped to his waist. He seemed to stroll leisurely in the air, keeping pace with the ferry, yet his movements were as swift as a falcon.

“Swift as a thousand-mile steed, his spirit rivals that of ten thousand men.”

Liu Zong emerged from the cabin and stood at the bow of the ship, leaning on the railing, smiling and waving. “Brother Chen!”

The chief protector of the Great Quan Yao Clan made a military hand signal, indicating to the protectors and soldiers on the ferry not to be alarmed, as he was one of their own.

Chen Ping An landed on the ferry and called out, “Brother Liu.”

The short old man stroked his beard and smiled. Hearing Chen Ping An’s address, Liu Zong, the Blade Grinder, felt a sense of pride. This was what it meant to be birds of a feather flock together, he reminisced about his own youthful days, when he too was such a handsome and dashing young man.

Back in his hometown Jianghu, when he was young, with a bullhorn-handled saber at his waist, he wouldn’t dare to say he was invincible under the heavens, but he was close. In any case, he was unstoppable, rarely meeting his match.

As long as those few who were stronger than him didn’t get in his way, he was invincible.

Countless heroes of Jianghu, upon seeing Liu Zong, would all give him a thumbs up. How many officials and dignitaries wanted to treat him as a guest of honor, and how many women were infatuated, forced to repeatedly whisper that nickname in their hearts?

“Little Zhu Lian!”

The ferry had three stories, Liu Zong took Chen Ping An to the top floor, where General Yao was resting.

Chen Ping An asked curiously, “Is this a transcontinental ferry? Did you, Great Quan, build it yourselves?”

Chen Ping An dared to say that he had seen at least forty or fifty transcontinental ferries.

This ferry was only slightly smaller than the Wind Kite Ferry. Compared to those intercontinental ferries docked at Upside-Down Mountain, this one could be considered a medium-sized vessel.

Liu Zong condensed his voice into a line, revealing secrets to Chen Ping An without any reservation. “It’s a sort of half-bought, half-built affair. Back then, many extraordinary individuals gathered in Mirage City, and about half of them were persuaded to stay by His Majesty. Among them were a few catalogued immortal masters who had connections with other continents.

Some years ago, His Majesty asked them to help make connections, and also used a high price to buy some construction blueprints from the Ai Ai Continent. That Usun Bar Ferry, you’ve heard of it, right? It usually docks at the southernmost Driven Mountain Ferry, and Great Sword Immortal Xu Xie is responsible for receiving it. Ours is in the same vein as the Usun Bar, except that the appearance has been greatly modified.”

“His Majesty has great ambition. In addition to this ‘Deer Carrying Lingzhi,’ he also wants to build two new transcontinental ferries, keeping one for himself and selling one. Anyway, the money spent on buying the blueprints must be recouped from some sucker. The names have already been chosen, ‘Emei Moon’ and ‘Thunder Chariot.'”

“Previously, Han Yushu, the daughter of the master of the Myriad Jade Sect, said that their Three Mountains Blessed Land intended to buy one, but for some reason there has been no movement recently. The Golden Summit Temple in the north also has some interest, but the price isn’t as high as the Myriad Jade Sect’s, being a full thirty percent lower. However, Yin Miaofeng, the True Preservation Daoist of the Golden Summit Temple, and his disciple Shao Yuanran, were both first-class protectors of our Great Quan. With that sentiment, if the Myriad Jade Sect continues to delay like this without giving a good reason, His Majesty will most likely sell that ‘Thunder Chariot’ to the Golden Summit Temple.”

Chen Ping An deliberately skipped over the Myriad Jade Sect, made some calculations in his mind, and nodded. “It’s very prudent for Great Quan to keep two ferries for themselves. One can be used for north-south trade, connecting the Northern Treasure Continent and the Northern Ju-lu Continent. If possible, you can also sail far to the northern ice plains of the Ai Ai Continent. For example, Great Quan can see if there is an opportunity to join forces with the Liu Clan of the Ai Ai Continent to mine ice plain minerals. The other ferry can go to the Central Earth Divine Continent or the Floating Cloud Continent. Moreover, the sooner you have private ferries, the better, so you can finalize alliance terms with the sects and large dynasties along the route as soon as possible, with longer terms being better.”

Currently, seven or eight out of ten existing transcontinental ferries belonging to sects in the Vast Expanse World have been requisitioned by the Confucian Temple of the Central Earth, and are temporarily “nationalized.”

Therefore, there are not many ferries that can cross land and water. Thus, whoever can own similar ferries will earn money more easily than before, like those strong chess pieces on a Go board, best at gaining influence and then territory.

Liu Zong chuckled. “Great minds think alike, huh? Should the old brother help relay these words to our Majesty?”

Chen Ping An smiled. “Brother Liu, it’s been so many years, and you’re still in the Golden Body Realm, that’s not good. When we get to Immortal Metropolis Mountain, shall we lend a hand?”

Liu Zong knew that the other party was changing the subject, and still said angrily, “Don’t expose people’s shortcomings, don’t hit people in the face, do you even have any Jianghu ethics?”

The new skin given by the Old Temple Master, as a gift for beating the Heavenly Drum on the city wall, was too good, so good that Liu Zong had been away from Lotus Root Blessed Land for many years, but he had still failed to break through.

Breaking through a Golden Body Realm bottleneck was about as difficult as a Qi practitioner ascending to the Upper Five Realms from the Nascent Soul stage, causing Liu Zong to drink a lot of sullen wine these years.

He heard that Master Zhong of the Southern Garden Kingdom was already at the Distant Wanderer Realm bottleneck.

As for how Chen Ping An was, it was useless to compare with this thing, just like your own junior had a promising future, you couldn’t be happier.

Because on the ferry were General Yao Zhen and Prince Yao Xianzhi, who served as the Prefect of the Capital, in addition to the Blade Grinder Liu Zong personally responsible for escorting, there were also several Earthly Immortal Qi practitioners, who did not dare to let their guard down.

As for whether there were hidden experts, Chen Ping An deliberately did not investigate, after all, he was not that Little Dragon Pool.

Chen Ping An only bent his fingers and gently tapped the staircase railing, which was made of some kind of immortal wood, producing a clear and resonant sound like metal and stone.

The transcontinental ferry of the Hemp-Clad Sect on Skull Beach had always been the financial source of Fallen Mountain, and almost half of the ferry could be said to be surnamed Chen.
The reason Chen Pingan wasn’t reassigned to “escort goods” at sea was that the central sects of the Central Earth Continent had already proactively handed over a ferry to the Wen Temple for management.

So, upon returning to the world of Haoran, Chen Pingan didn’t dwell on it. However, last time at the Merit Forest, the Old Master, in his inebriated merriment, inadvertently let something slip.

If the Pima Sect were merely a lower sect, it could barely retain a transcontinental ferry. But as one of the sects of the Northern Ju Continent, each continent of Haoran had its share. The Northern Ju Continent actually lacked one at the Wen Temple. Thus, the Pima Sect seemed as if it ought to surrender its ferry. As a result, Mao Xiaodong, who had been promoted to Director of Studies at the Book of Rites Academy, somehow suggested that the Qionglin Sect, which had already surrendered two transcontinental ferries, should offer up another, since it was so wealthy. Even after giving three to the Wen Temple, they would still have one left.

It was a small-scale internal Wen Temple meeting, attended only by the three Masters and Vice-Masters of the Wen Temple, the Chancellors and Directors of Studies of the three Academies, and a small group of Confucians enshrined alongside the Sages. All the Rectors of the academies were absent.

The tall and imposing Director of Studies Mao Xiaodong, with this one statement, caused the entire hall to fall silent.

The Chancellor of the Book of Rites Academy had to bite the bullet and second his Director Mao, and then there was little further dissent. The agenda item was tacitly approved.

At that time, the Old Scholar had not yet been restored to his divine position at the Wen Temple and was naturally not present.

The righteous words of the Director of Studies from the Book of Rites lineage had nothing to do with my Wen Sage lineage!

Just as sword cultivators had the custom of “seeking swordsmanship,” the Old Scholar’s “seeking wine” was also a unique marvel of Haoran.

At the stairwell, the Old General laughed, “Originally, I wanted to give you a surprise.”

Yao Xianzhe, with his one arm, held the fox fur coat. His grandfather was stubborn, saying that if he got cold from just a few steps, how could he possibly travel far?

The old man’s little scheme was simply refusing to admit he was getting old. Governor Yao pretended not to notice.

Yao Jinzhi smiled, “This is what they call ‘there’s always someone stronger than you.'”

Before, there was an empty sleeve dangling by his side. Now, the Governor simply tied the sleeve into a knot, as if boldly telling others, “Yes, I’m missing an arm. Go ahead and laugh if you want.”

It turned out the Old General had deliberately delayed the stated departure by two days.

Evidently, Chen Pingan had emerged from seclusion as soon as he received the flying sword missive from the Yao family, and immediately set off for Mirage City, intending to personally escort the ferry to Immortal Capital Mountain.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have encountered the Deer Holds Ganoderma ferry along the way.

Chen Pingan hurried up the stairs.

The Old General reached out and grabbed his arm, laughing, “Come on, let’s have a little drink?”

Chen Pingan nodded, “We agreed, not too much.”

Liu Zong didn’t follow. Who didn’t know that in the Old General’s eyes, Chen Pingan was half a grandson, or perhaps a grandson-in-law, to the Yao family?

Inside the room, there was a large brazier. Yao Xianzhe was in charge of warming the wine.

Chen Pingan bent down and sat on a long bench, picked up the fire tongs, and gently stirred the charcoal, asking, “Yao Lingzhi’s ‘Famous Spring’ saber, still hasn’t been found?”

Knowing the Old General’s temperament, the ferry staff had deliberately kept the room’s decorations simple and unadorned.

As the Governor in charge of the matter, he pursed his lips, “Difficult. There are no clues. We’ve dug up a lot of shady dealings instead.”

The old man laughed, “Finally acting like a Governor. Losing a saber is nothing.”

Yao Xianzhe sullenly said, “Grandfather, it’s easy for you to say when you’re sitting there comfortably. The Governor’s office mobilized so many people, but there’s no result. I just feel uneasy about it.”

“I’m not standing, I’m sitting.”

The old man said, “Besides, you’re not young anymore, and still a bachelor. Bad back? No wonder you were afraid to go to the pleasure houses when you were drinking with people earlier in life.”

Yao Xianzhe habitually reached out to warm himself by the fire, his face flushing red. He looked up and complained, “Grandfather, can you not talk about these things in front of Master Chen?”

Chen Pingan suddenly said, “I noticed earlier, there’s a female retainer on the ferry, not old, but with a high cultivation level. She was standing on the second floor of the ferry earlier. The way she looked at Xianzhe… well, there’s something there. I can’t be wrong.”

The old man raised an eyebrow, intrigued, “Oh? Is that so?”

The Daquan cultivators who could serve on this ferry must have all been to the battlefield.

Yao Xianzhe helplessly said, “Master Chen, it’s nothing. Don’t talk nonsense.”

Knowing which woman Master Chen was talking about, after all, all the military cultivators in the capital had their files personally reviewed. Her background, mountain lineage, and battlefield experience, Governor Yao Xianzhe knew everything. That girl, named Liu Yi, with the intimate name Yuanyang, and the Daoist name “Yifu,” was a native of Daquan, born into a local gentry family. As a child, she was spotted by an Earth Immortal who recognized her aptitude and sent her up the mountain to cultivate early. In the early years on the Jingji battlefield and in Mirage City, Liu Yi, with her Dragon Gate Realm cultivation, relied on her own Daoist arts and two treasures inherited from her master, earning merits on par with several Golden Core Earth Immortals.

Liu Yi was certainly an outstanding woman. Yao Xianzhe occasionally strolled on the ferry, and she always avoided looking at him directly.

Right, why would anyone like a cripple with a missing arm?

Besides, Yao Xianzhe really had no feelings for her.

Chen Pingan said, annoyed, “Why would I joke about something like that?”

The old man pointed at Yao Xianzhe and laughed, “Wouldn’t you call that blind as a bat? What good are you?!”

Chen Pingan began to add fuel to the fire, smiling, “Some people are bachelors because they have no choice, but some people are bachelors because they are truly talented at it.”

The Old General and Yao Xianzhe asked about the general situation of that Liu Yi. They learned that this female immortal master came from a scholarly family in Daquan. Good, her Daoist name was “Yifu,” very good, it sounded auspicious. She had the courage to repeatedly disregard the protection of her master’s elders, put herself in danger, and even killed demons and earned merit, ultimately defending Mirage City. When His Majesty rewarded her for her contributions, Liu Yi only asked the imperial court for a third-class retainer status, which was… not good. His Majesty should have given her a second-class retainer at least.

As for Liu Yi being sixty-odd years old now, what was that? The sixty-year cycle of a female cultivator on the mountain was equivalent to the teenage years of a woman down the mountain, wasn’t it?

The old man stroked his chin, sighing, “I think Xianzhe is not worthy of that girl.”

Chen Pingan hummed in agreement, “I think so too.”

Yao Xianzhe smiled wryly.

The old man laughed heartily, raised a hand, and Chen Pingan lightly slapped it in a gesture of perfect understanding.
Taking the bowl of yellow wine from Yao Xianzhi’s hands, Chen Ping’an glanced at the old fox fur coat hanging on the coat rack. He knew its origin; it was a gift from Emperor Liu Zhen of the Great Spring Dynasty to the Yao family of the frontier in his early years.

Yao Xianzhi might not think much of it, but if the current Emperor of the Great Spring Dynasty saw it, she would likely feel uneasy.

But every family has its own troubles, so Chen Ping’an pretended not to notice the subtle complexities of people’s hearts.

Chen Ping’an remembered something and took out two red envelopes from his sleeve. Each contained a “Little Heat Coin.” Chen Ping’an had specially chosen two with auspicious inscriptions wishing blessings upon younger generations.

Handing the red envelopes to Yao Xianzhi, he smiled and said, “Please give these to Yao Lingzhi for her children later. Consider it from Uncle Chen, making up for the New Year’s money I’ve missed over the years.”

Yao Lingzhi had long married and now had a pair of children, both of whom were still young.

Like Chen Ping’an, many cultivators on the mountain liked to collect various “Little Heat Coins” with numerous inscriptions, similar to “lucky coins,” for opening furnaces, warding off evil, hanging spring lanterns, celebrating birthdays, and New Year’s greetings. The inscriptions were diverse. In this regard, Chen Ping’an, during his many years of travel, had never slacked off. In private, he had collected six sets of twelve zodiac “Little Heat Coins,” three sets of “Lunar Flower Goddess Coins,” and a set of “Thirty-Six Heavenly Generals” Little Heat Coins with inscriptions from Jade Mountain. Chen Ping’an had spent a lot of his own money on this, entrusting his Grain Rain Coins to Wei Wenlong, the steward of Luopo Mountain, to manage and help him keep an eye out for rare Little Heat Coins, buying them whenever he found them.

In this matter, Liu, the God of Wealth from Aiyai Continent, was a master, having collected many unique items hailed as unparalleled in the world.

Yao Xianzhi accepted the red envelopes and smiled, “Those two kids will probably go crazy when they receive this New Year’s money.”

This uncle of theirs had no authority in their eyes. The two children had been clever and mischievous since they were young, and only when they wanted to ask him about the stories of Mr. Chen’s travels would they call him uncle with some sincerity.

No, this New Year, he had to make those two children kowtow to him, their uncle, a few more times before giving out the red envelopes.

Yao Zhen casually asked, “Wu Shu is not in Tongye Continent but has gone to the Great World. We only have Huang Yiyun of Pushan as a Boundary Realm grandmaster. Have you two met?”

Chen Ping’an nodded. “I met her before, the first time at the Cloud Cave Blessed Land. Later, some things happened, and Mountain Master Ye agreed to serve as a nominal guest elder of Xiandu Mountain.”

Yao Xianzhi asked in puzzlement, “Why didn’t you mention it last time in Mirage City?”

Lord Prefect was secretly delighted. Heh, wouldn’t he be on equal footing with Huang Yiyun of Pushan in Mr. Chen’s subordinate sect?

Chen Ping’an said unhappily, “What’s the point of talking about this?”

Old General Yao tsked. “That’s quite a beauty. The Rouge List of Flower Goddess Mountain in Cloud Cave Blessed Land, only Sect Master Jiang didn’t dare to include her, otherwise, she would definitely be in the top three. It seems this trip was not in vain. Can you handle it?”

The old man took a sip of wine and smiled.

Chen Ping’an was speechless.

Yao Xianzhi finally found an opportunity and teased, “If it were me, facing such a stunning mountain immortal master, and a female Boundary Realm martial artist, I would definitely be uncontrollably infatuated, sleepless at night.”

Chen Ping’an said with a chuckle, “Sleepless at night? Toss and turn, right? Be careful of hurting your waist, that would be adding insult to injury. Xianzhi, you’re quite something. You’re a good person, unwilling to harm young women, afraid that marrying you would be like being a widow?”

Yao Xianzhi almost suffocated with internal injuries and had to drink a large mouthful of warm yellow wine.

The old man asked with a smile, “Since you are both grandmasters, have you sparred?”

Chen Ping’an nodded. “I won.”

The old man asked again, “What if you faced Wu Shu?”

Chen Ping’an thought for a moment and nodded again. “I can win.”

But it wouldn’t be an easy win. After all, Wu Shu was a Boundary Realm martial artist who had honed his skills in the Return to Simplicity Realm for many years. Besides removing all the talismans and restrictions on his hands and feet, Chen Ping’an would also need to have a mindset focused on victory and unleash his full potential to exchange blows with him.

Nowadays, Chen Ping’an could roughly divide his exchanges with others into four situations:

Suppressing realm, not suppressing realm, having talismans and restrictions on his body, and the final “revealing his true form, city-head posture.”

Liu Zong gently knocked on the door, pushed it open, and said with a rub of his hands, “What’s this about winning and can win?”

Yao Xianzhi poured another bowl of wine for Liu Zong and said, “We were talking about Huang Yiyun and Martial Saint Wu Shu.”

Liu Zong shook his wine bowl, smelled the aroma of the wine, turned to look at the green-shirted swordsman who was no longer drinking and was warming himself by the fire, glanced at the stacked narrow sabers on his waist, and asked, “When did your eldest disciple reach the Boundary Realm?”

Chen Ping’an smiled. “He already is.”

Liu Zong drank the wine in his bowl in one gulp, his old face wrinkled with worry. After hesitating for a moment, he whispered, “Actually, I’ve always wanted to find an opportunity to exchange blows with Huang Yiyun, but last time when we met at Peach Leaf Ferry, she was there as the Mountain Master of Pushan, discussing official business with His Majesty, so I couldn’t speak up. Now, why bother going far, isn’t that right?”

Chen Ping’an smiled. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that, Brother Liu.”

Liu Zong said with a bitter face, “I’m only in the Golden Body Realm, unable to travel far. It’s not appropriate to exchange blows on the ship either. Should we wait until we reach Xiandu Mountain?”

Chen Ping’an said, “No need for so much trouble.”

In an instant, heaven and earth changed. Only the brazier remained, and the four people were still sitting around it. But other than that, there was nothing else in the world.

The four people and the brazier all seemed to be floating in a vast and ancient secret realm.

Yao Xianzhi gently stamped her foot, and ripples spread out under her feet, as if she were stepping on a calm lake surface.

Chen Ping’an stood up, took a step to the side, and stood in the void a hundred feet away from the brazier. He placed one hand behind his back and extended the other palm, inviting with a smile, “Martial Artist Liu Zong, feel free to throw a punch.”

Liu Zong sat on the spot, his scalp tingling, as if he were sitting on pins and needles.
It was strange. This Chen Ping’an, clad in a snow-white robe, had strayed into the blessed land carrying a sword. He had slain that seemingly invincible old codger, Ding Ying, back then. After leaving Lotus Flower Blessed Land, Liu Zong, having become the chief retainer of the Daquan Yao Clan, had heard about most of his glorious deeds over the years. Even when they reunited in Mirage City last time, Chen Ping’an was already bearing the title of a Last Era Hidden Official, a veritable Upper Fifth Realm Sword Immortal. But when interacting with him, standing together, Liu Zong hadn’t felt any pressure. Yet, at this moment, Liu Zong instinctively had a thought: it was better to drink and chat than to exchange blows.

Yao Xianzhi suppressed a smile, about to tease the retainer, but saw her grandfather gently shaking his head, signaling her to remain silent.

Liu Zong took a deep breath, then suddenly laughed. He slowly rose and moved swiftly toward Chen Ping’an, stopping before him. He pulled out a bull-horn knife from his sleeve, one he hadn’t used in many years.

It wasn’t a high-grade Dharma knife. It was sharp enough when fighting enemies back in his hometown blessed land, but it was far from sufficient in this Vast Expanse. It didn’t even qualify as a magical treasure.

This sparring match would likely claim his old companion, his life-long partner. Looking down at the bull-horn knife, the old man couldn’t help but feel a pang of heartache and sadness.

Liu Zong frankly said, “In this exchange, our cultivation realms are vastly different, so I will harbor killing intent, without any reservation. Please forgive me.”

Chen Ping’an nodded, then slid two short knives from his cyan sleeves, small like daggers. He tossed one of them to Liu Zong. “Use this one. It’s more resilient, allowing you to be unburdened and strike more freely.”

Liu Zong breathed a sigh of relief, putting away the bull-horn knife. He spun the dagger-like blade in a flourish, then held it up for inspection. Inscribed on it were the words “Morning Dew.” Liu Zong asked with a smile, “Does it have a story?”

Chen Ping’an explained, “Its true name is ‘Chasing Deer.’ It is the Cao Zi dagger recorded in the official histories.”

The short knife in Chen Ping’an’s hand was inscribed with “Evening Haze.” Like the Cao Zi dagger, the inscription was a smokescreen. Over the years, Chen Ping’an had never found any clues about this blade. Since it was of comparable grade to the Cao Zi dagger and he had acquired it from the assassin of Deer Severing Mountain, Chen Ping’an had conveniently named it “Deer Severing.”

Liu Zong’s eyes showed appreciation. He nodded and said, “A good knife and a good name. The wielder is even more so.”

Liu Zong vanished in a flash, leaving behind only a streak of flowing light between his original position and the cyan-robed figure.

Chen Ping’an stood motionless, raising an arm and using two fingers to pinch the tip of the Chasing Deer dagger. He struck down with a palm, heavily slamming it into Liu Zong’s face, knocking him to the ground on the spot, causing the dagger to fly out of his hand. Chen Ping’an then kicked Liu Zong’s head, sending him sliding dozens of yards away.

Chen Ping’an remained standing where he was, simply tossing the dagger back to Liu Zong.

Liu Zong leaped to his feet, catching the dagger. He wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand, then spat out a mouthful of stagnant blood, chuckling in anger, “Good lad, not suppressing your realm?”

Chen Ping’an retorted, “Does suppressing the realm make a difference? Wouldn’t I still need to hold back, again and again, to prevent accidentally killing you?”

Yao Xianzhi, watching from afar, widened her eyes. Hearing Chen Ping’an’s words, she suddenly felt a sense of unfamiliarity, as if she had never truly known him.

The old general drank his wine and smiled, “You think you know how he’s made it all these years?”

Different grains feed different people, a hundred families’ meals raise one person.

The way of the world, the hearts of people, seeking survival is not easy. The hardships and difficulties within cannot be explained to outsiders. Perhaps the only language, all the reasoning, for sword cultivators lies in the sword, and for martial artists, only in the fist.

Back at the training ground, Chen Ping’an shook his head and said to himself, “Just because your Golden Body Realm foundation is passable, barely avoiding a paper-mache physique, you think you can be considered half a Far Wanderer Realm? Unfortunately, that’s not how it works here.”

“If you want me to suppress my realm, I’ll suppress three realms at once, to experience your saber techniques at the same level.”

“The second option, I can suppress my realm or not as I please. I’ll stand here without moving. See if you can make me move a half-step. If I do, I lose.”

The Bamboo Lodge lineage of Fallen Phoenix Mountain.

This is how they’ve always taught and fed fists.

If you can’t take it, if you can’t handle it, go back and drink. Then we’re still Old Brother Liu and Little Brother Chen.

Liu Zong didn’t say anything, of course he chose the second option.

Within the time it takes to burn an incense stick, Chen Ping’an remained unwavering from beginning to end. If a dagger approached, he would gently push the blade aside. But if Liu Zong’s fists or feet came close, Chen Ping’an would either stand still and take the blow, his expression indifferent – a full-force strike from a Golden Body Realm bottleneck martial artist landing on his cyan robes seemed utterly inconsequential – or he would simply… slap him away, sending Liu Zong coughing up blood.

In this strange sparring match in a strange place, Liu Zong was like an ordinary man trying to shake a mountain, overestimating himself. In the end, he would only injure his fists. The heavier the punch, the more severe the injury.

Staggering to his feet, swaying, Liu Zong clenched the dagger in his hand, his head lowered, his face covered in blood, dripping to the ground.

Liu Zong suddenly raised his head. The old martial artist, having cycled through pure vital energy several times, could barely see. He could only vaguely see the cyan-robed man in the distance, unexpectedly breaking his word, adopting an ancient and profound fist stance, seemingly offering a punch of his own accord.

Not seemingly, but truly.

The other party was finally going to offer a punch.

Just being able to stand up had exhausted all of Liu Zong’s strength. This simple action was no different from Liu Zong’s life-and-death battles with his peers at his divine peak in his hometown’s martial world. The old man swayed, his only taut part being the arm holding the knife. He closed his eyes, trying to forcefully muster a pure vital energy, but to no avail. He couldn’t do it. The entire world was filled with the other party’s fist intent, giving the old man a sense of being an ephemera in the vastness of the cosmos. He felt that the moment the other party threw this punch, he would inevitably fall in realm… But in an instant, even these fleeting thoughts were completely submerged by the tidal wave of fist intent that enveloped the world, in a moment between life and death.

Liu Zong suddenly raised his head, his face contorted, clenching his teeth, his arm trembling. Using the sway of his body, he actually spun around in place, wildly throwing a knife toward the cyan-robed figure.

His movements were sluggish, his strike weak, the Cao Zi dagger in his hand not even emitting a glimmer of light.
But this saber strike, from Liu Zong, the foremost master of saber techniques in Lotus Root Blessed Land, had to be delivered!

A moment later, or perhaps after a long age, the consciousness of Liu Zong, blurred and fading, partially cleared. The old man suddenly felt a hand press down on his shoulder, and he heard a gentle voice laugh, “Fine fist.”

In Little Dragon Pool, the Dragon Beard Immortal Lord from the upper sect had returned to the Central Earth. At the same time, the mountain lord, Lin Huizhi, and the law enforcer, Quan Qingqiu, had both disappeared.

Fortunately, the young female Daoist from the thatched hut on the Ancestral Mountain As-You-Wish Peak had also left Little Dragon Pool on her sword, only asking Linghu Jiao Yu to help watch over the hut.

Having arrived at Immortal Capital Mountain, the Iron Tree Mountain Immortal who had crossed continents to protect the two children was indeed, taking advantage of his rare visit to Tong Ye Continent, traveling the mountains and rivers alone, departing from Secret Snow Peak.

Zheng Youqian and Tan Yingzhou went to Falling Treasure Beach every day to listen to Mr. Xiao Mo impart Daoist teachings, and even helped him brew wine together.

In a mansion on Secret Snow Peak, Huang Yi Yun, whose injuries had mostly healed, went out to enjoy the snow today. As she strolled along, she saw Qiu Du accompanying the young maiden Hu Chuling, building a snowman near a pavilion.

Ye Yunyun learned from the old woman that her disciple Xue Huai and Pei Qian were having a sparring match at Sweeping Flower Terrace, and seemed to be benefiting greatly.

In the Great Li capital of Treasure Bottle Continent, a scholar brought his pageboy, Cui Ci, to visit the Fire God Temple, where they found Aunt Feng under a flower arbor.

Aunt Feng smiled as she saw the Confucian scholar from the Li Zhu Grotto Heaven, saying, “Riding the wind, light and graceful, good indeed.”

Li Xisheng bowed respectfully, but Aunt Feng’s figure vanished from the stone steps of the flower arbor in an instant, avoiding the gesture, and appeared standing beside the stone table.

After Li Xisheng stood up, Aunt Feng took out two jars of wine and continued, “Although this avoids walking, there is still something to be awaited.”

The pageboy Cui Ci neither knew the identity of the woman before him, nor what riddles she was speaking. The young boy only knew that these two sentences originated from Lu Chen, the Third Master of White Jade Capital.

Li Xisheng smiled, “The Great Dao speaks not, a single yellow leaf.”

Within the territory of the newly established Cloud Firmament Dynasty in the southern part of Treasure Bottle Continent, on the highest peak of a range of lofty mountains, two people stopped and surveyed their surroundings.

A young man in hemp clothing and straw sandals, with a robust build and a dull expression, was accompanied by an exceptionally handsome youth, wearing a purple jade crown and a white jade belt.

The youth was none other than the sword cultivator Wu Tijing, who had left the Orthodox Yang Mountain. He glanced at the man crouching down and chewing on a licorice root, and said, “Hu Feng, I think this place is not bad.”

Within a radius of hundreds of miles, the spiritual Qi was actually thin, but compared to the “scenic and auspicious places” in the eyes of ordinary mortals, it was already slightly better. Now everywhere in Treasure Bottle Continent, mountain forces were busy vying for territory, carving out a piece here, delineating a section there, or else dynasties and their tributaries, successful in their restoration, would send out the Qin Tian Jian geomancers to help the immortal abodes within their borders find new sites. Several mountain peaks that the two had previously fancied, even if sparsely populated, still had cultivators present, having arrived first. It was already not easy for them to find such a barely acceptable mountain.

The man named Hu Feng chewed on the licorice root and nodded, “Let’s choose this place.”

Because the two planned to establish a sect, there were actually only Hu Feng and Wu Tijing.

But neither of them thought this was a big deal.

The two had both been traveling afar, and then met by chance, quickly becoming friends, with no particular reason.

In fact, the two had completely different personalities, one was broad-minded, almost to the point of arrogance, thinking, “Anyway, I, Wu Tijing, am destined to be an Upper Fifth Tier sword cultivator, sooner or later.”

The other was magnanimous, Hu Feng was gentle in nature, and spoke slowly.

The only thing they had in common was that both were sword cultivators.

Wu Tijing’s eyebrows fluttered, full of confidence, seemingly born with it, laughing, “Hu Feng, you be the sect master of our sect, and also manage the money. I’ll just be the ancestral law enforcer. Anyway, we will definitely become a Sword Dao sect with the ‘Sect’ designation. By then, you will be the sect master, um, like that Chen Pingan of Fallen Phoenix Mountain.”

One was a forty-year-old Dragon Gate Realm sword cultivator.

One was a Golden Core Realm sword cultivator, not even twenty years old.

Their ages combined were not even sixty years, yet they were already embarking on creating a sect and thinking about the future of the sect.

If one were to talk about immortal money, the two of them combined didn’t even have a single Grain Rain coin.

“Law enforcer? In a very long time, our sect will probably only have the two of us. Who can you govern besides me?”

Hu Feng said slowly, “Can’t compare to him.”

Besides, there was nothing to compare. Each walks his own path, each lives his own life.

Wu Tijing said, “Hu Feng, change your habit of self-deprecation in the future, and learn more from me.”

Hu Feng said, “What you have is arrogance, also a bad habit. If you don’t restrain yourself a little, you will suffer greatly in the future.”

The youth Wu Tijing, who indeed gave people a sense of unruliness, laughed loudly, which was why he and Hu Feng were compatible.

Unlike at that Orthodox Yang Mountain, every time he went out, there were gazes of flattery and ingratiation around him, or some old sword cultivators, with gratified expressions, saying words of praise. Anyway, it was all self-indulgence, and he just couldn’t understand, what did it have to do with them how he, Wu Tijing, practiced swords?

Wu Tijing hesitated, squatted down, and asked, “You and that guy are from the same hometown, and the same age, are you familiar with him?”

Hu Feng turned to look at Wu Tijing, and smiled, as if to say, it was rare, Wu Tijing would be so interested in someone.

Wu Tijing twitched the corner of his mouth, “I am arrogant, that’s true, but I’m not a fool. Not only Chen Pingan, but also that Liu Xianyang, I can’t beat them.”

Hu Feng slowly added three words for him, “For now.”

Wu Tijing smiled, “Otherwise?”

Hu Feng’s ancestral home was in Erlang Lane, not far from the ancestral home of the Great Li Upper Pillar Kingdom, the Yuan family.

As a child, he would follow his grandfather, wandering through the streets and alleys, repairing bowls and pots, sharpening knives, and the like.
In our village, the old customs were plentiful, and Grandpa, with his deep understanding, often helped with celebratory events like weddings, earning a bit of coin to supplement our meager income. He also ran a small shop selling spring festival couplets, window paper, and other sundry items. As a child, Hu Feng’s life wasn’t truly impoverished. However, Grandpa’s surname was Chai, while his was Hu, leading the gossiping neighbors to claim Grandpa had married into the family. Thus, Hu Feng endured countless scornful glances in his youth, often taunted by his peers. He only learned his Grandpa’s given name when the time came to inscribe it on his tombstone.

The shop’s business was usually slow, only picking up around the New Year. Most days it remained closed. A flamboyant potter frequented the place, and occasionally a dark, skinny little girl, like a burden, would accompany the man who favored effeminate gestures, never uttering a word. Hu Feng’s only impression of her was her large eyes, which made her face seem even smaller.

The effeminate man, whom she called “Uncle,” was often penniless. Grandpa seemed to be the only one who didn’t mind his unmanly demeanor, willing to chat with him for a while, even if the potter didn’t buy anything, never chasing him away. The little girl would sit by the doorway, only calling out for her uncle when hunger became unbearable, before they would head home together.

Grandpa passed away when Hu Feng was still a youth. Hu Feng didn’t sell the old family home; it seemed “the heavens had changed,” and everything was different.

Like the other townspeople, Hu Feng searched for treasures, rummaging through boxes and cabinets. Any old-looking bottle or jar was brought out to see if it could be sold for money. He found a pile of beautiful stones in the Dragon Whisker River. People on Fortune Street and Peach Leaf Lane offered prices, and without much thought, Hu Feng divided eight stones, commonly known as “snake gallstones,” equally between them, not wanting to offend either side, and earned two sums of silver. During those days, he couldn’t sleep soundly, afraid to leave home for fear of thieves.

Before that, Hu Feng had seen a peer from Mud Bottle Alley named Song Jixin. The old folks said he was the illegitimate son of Master Song, the supervising official. Unable to bring him back to the government office, they arranged for Song Jixin to live in that small alley. This Song Jixin always seemed to have money, spending his days aimlessly wandering around with a maidservant, flaunting his wealth.

From a young age, Hu Feng enjoyed going to Old Porcelain Mountain, where he often saw a fellow named Dong Shuiing. They would rummage and scavenge, each looking for their own treasures. At first, they didn’t talk, each making their own finds. Later, Hu Feng noticed that Dong Shuiing liked to pick up broken pieces of porcelain with writing on them. Dong Shuiing later approached him, and the two taciturn boys struck up a silent trade, exchanging items.

At Old Mother Huang’s wine shop, Hu Feng often saw a doorkeeper named Zheng Dafeng. The fellow’s eyes, it seemed, were born on a woman’s body.

During the season of water wars, Hu Feng always saw a skinny peer, seemingly from the same alley as Song Jixin, perhaps even a neighbor. Yet one was extremely wealthy, while the other was utterly destitute.

Grandpa forbade him from approaching that orphan surnamed Chen, unlike the old folks near Apricot Blossom Lane, who spoke of him in such harsh terms, calling him a jinx, a plague.

Grandpa, with his extensive knowledge, simply told him to stay away from that person, without ever explaining why.

Once, Hu Feng was fishing alone by Green Stone Cliff, where the ground was pockmarked with divots. In our village, the common saying was that it was a “Sun’s Nest,” much like the Crab Archway. No one knew who first spoke of it.

Hu Feng witnessed a child, who hadn’t learned to swim, playing in the shallow end of the Dragon Whisker River. Somehow, he nearly drowned. Just as Hu Feng dropped his fishing rod and was about to run to rescue him, that stick-thin fellow noticed and sprinted, leaping into the water and dragging the child ashore. The child wailed, and from afar, Hu Feng couldn’t make out what was being said. However, the fellow eventually calmed the child down, even gifting him a grasshopper woven from grass.

When some older children from the neighborhood approached, the orphan surnamed Chen left.

Afterward, it was said that the family burned their child’s clothes that very day, perhaps fearing bad luck.

In the past, the old and young of Iron Lock Well loved to cool off under the old locust tree. They would share gossip, and nothing could be kept secret.

The old folks told stories, the women chewed their tongues, the men watched the women, and the children ran and played around the old locust tree.

Since there was a shop for celebratory events, there was naturally a shop for funerals. There weren’t many such shops in our town, only a few, but the difference in business was vast. Hu Feng once asked Grandpa why, and Grandpa said it was because the dead were paramount. Even the poorest family would tighten their belts and spend some money, even if they had to borrow it, to make the funeral as grand as possible.

But why he didn’t earn much money from celebratory events, Grandpa never said.

Grandpa was very good to him, giving him almost anything the family had. However, there were a few rules that Grandpa had emphasized since Hu Feng was young. For example, never pick up money from the road. And if you could avoid asking for help, do so.

But if you absolutely had to ask for help, you had to repay it, whether with money or with a favor. You couldn’t be in debt, and you couldn’t learn to leave a large portion of rice on your plate, deliberately “leaving it for” the next year.

But there was one kind of lucky money that Hu Feng was allowed to ask for, and in fact, was required to get; when a bride was marrying into the family, some people would “block the road.” Hu Feng would follow along, receive a red envelope, and silently recite the “old auspicious words” that Grandpa had taught him.

Furthermore, even though their family ran a celebratory event shop, if there was a funeral in town, they should help if they could. After helping, they should eat a meal at the family’s house and go home. If the family needed someone to help watch over the deceased’s coffin, they should agree. But they should remember that once they entered the mourning hall, they shouldn’t leave halfway. Even if they were sleepy, they should simply doze off there, and not go home in the middle of the night, not fearing anything, and only go home when it was daylight, just as if they had taken a nap.

And at Immortal’s Tomb, on a certain day each year, Grandpa would take Hu Feng to kowtow.
Before his passing, grandfather had specifically instructed him, even after he was gone, this matter could not be forgotten. Even when he grew up and traveled far away, he must offer three incense sticks on this particular day every year.

In the westernmost part of the small town lived a slender girl like a willow branch, surnamed Li. Yet, she possessed considerable strength, carrying two full buckets of water with a single carrying pole. She had a younger brother, a sturdy and adorable boy. Once, the child was strolling in the alley near their home, still wearing open-crotch pants, swaggering along. At that moment, the child held between his fingers a cicada shell he had picked up from somewhere, or perhaps plucked from a tree. It was golden, shimmering in the sunlight, looking quite different. Moreover, compared to the common cicada shells found in the town, it was much larger. Hu Feng took a few more glances.

Seemingly pleased with the display, the child in open-crotch pants deliberately slowed his pace, shaking his head and twisting his wrist, vigorously waving the cicada shell.

Hu Feng was sitting on a long bench in front of a house in the alley, helping to sharpen kitchen knives. Sharpening a knife earned him three to five copper coins, the price always negotiable.

In the distance, a woman stood at her doorstep, hands on her hips, shouting at the top of her lungs, calling her son home for dinner.

Hu Feng casually asked the child, whose name was Huai Zi, if he would sell him the cicada shell for three coins.

Hu Feng’s silence was fine, but once he spoke, the child seemed a little scared. He immediately moved to the base of the wall, scurrying along with his head down, not daring to answer.

Hu Feng didn’t take it to heart, even feeling relieved that the child hadn’t taken him seriously. After all, three coins for what? So, he focused and continued to sharpen the knife.

Unexpectedly, the child tiptoed back, placed the golden cicada shell on the bench, and ran away.

By the time Hu Feng wanted to call him back, the child was already running away, pulling up his pants as he went, turning a corner and disappearing without a trace.

Hu Feng was both amused and exasperated. A moment later, a head peeked out from around the corner of the wall, far enough away, before daring to grin at Hu Feng.

Hu Feng took out the copper coins, but the child shook his head vigorously.

At that time, Hu Feng didn’t know what this chance encounter by the roadside truly meant, how much impact it would have on his future life.

He had always thought that year after year, he would carry his ancestral wooden box, filled with tools, going from street to street, carrying his sharpening stone, or helping people mend pots and jars.

Furthermore, the two sharpening stones passed down in his family, Hu Feng only learned after leaving his hometown, at a certain immortal’s ferry, through a celestial book dedicated to recording mountain treasures, that they were actually the legendary Dragon-Slaying Stones.

He gave one to Wu Ti Jing, and the larger one at that.

Hu Feng didn’t have many friends in the small town. Since he was out in the world, he had genuinely made friends with Wu Ti Jing, and the other’s talent for swordsmanship was much better than his own, so there was no need to be stingy.

Wu Ti Jing asked curiously, “What are you thinking about? You seem lost in thought.”

Hu Feng smiled, “Thinking about things from when I was a child.”

He didn’t know how to repay the person named Li Huai.

Because that golden cicada shell was a cave heaven permeated with sword qi.

Wu Ti Jing clicked his tongue and said, “Your hometown is truly speechless.”

Hu Feng said, “Actually, it’s not so bad. Knowing everything and knowing nothing are often the same.”

Hu Feng took out a bamboo flute and began to play softly.

In the moonlight, the flute music drifted, filling the mountains and fields.

A Deer Holding Lingzhi ship was about to arrive at the Xiandu Mountain ferry.

Chief Offering Liu Zong was pale, but his spirit was excellent. It was just that his footsteps were unsteady, as if he were drunk.

So, after the group disembarked, Liu Zong did not follow, because the Deer Holding Lingzhi was about to set sail back to Daquan Mirage City.

Chen Ping An led General Yao and Yao Xianzhi up Qingping Peak together.

After the ferryboat took off again, Liu Zong left the bow and came to a room on the first floor of the ferryboat, gently knocking on the door and calling, “Your Majesty.”

After crossing the threshold, the Daquan Empress was already sitting at the table, reviewing memorials. A maid in the room was standing on tiptoe, gently closing the window.

While climbing the mountain, Chen Ping An chatted with the old general along the way.

They talked about some mountain and water sights and stories of old friends.

Chen Ping An couldn’t help but miss his hometown and Fallen Phoenix Mountain.

Perhaps becoming the person one most admires is a proving of the Dao.

Naturally, Chen Ping An thought of the hardworking old chef.

Perhaps in Zhu Lian’s heart, there lived a child who would never grow up, called Jianghu (Martial World).