Chen Ping’an, hesitant to cross the threshold of the Sword Admonishment Hall – for it was none other than the Ancestral Hall of the Violet Sun Manor – turned instead with a wry smile. “Let us, perhaps, seek enlightenment in the kitchens. A grander education awaits, I suspect.”

Within the hall, hung the portraits of departed patriarchs. Centermost stood Wu Yi, clad in a Taoist robe and cloud-stepping sandals, flanked by likenesses of past Manor Lords in ordered array.

On the morrow, within the Ancestral Hall of the Azure Lotus Sword Sect upon Immortal Capital Mountain, a portrait of Chen Ping’an himself would hold the place of honor.

Qing Tong, in his measured stride, cast a sideways glance at the inscribed plaque: Sword Admonishment Hall?

He recalled tales of valiant warriors and wandering knights, forever poised, “hand upon hilt, delivering a sword’s sharp reprimand!”

Yet here, within the Violet Sun Manor, a sect devoid of true swordsmen, to presume such a title seemed a vanity ill-deserved. The moniker was indeed ill-fitting for its purpose.

Still, it was apparent that Wu Yi, he who styled himself “Cave Spirit,” had inherited a portion of the old Flood Dragon’s millennial water-borne fortune. The remainder, Qing Tong surmised, the venerable Headmaster Cheng of Great Fu Academy had gifted to the River God of Cold Food River.

The Violet Sun Manor’s New Year’s feast was held within the Snow-Blinding Hall, traditionally reserved for honored guests.

For few upon the greater mountain estates held any true observance of the New Year’s meal.

Those of the Record-Seeking Order were forever abroad – either wandering the lands, sequestered in meditation, or attending various rites and celebrations.

Near the Snow-Blinding Hall stretched a long line of kitchens, each dedicated to mountain delicacies, rare wines, and exotic fruits. Manor maids and serving girls flitted between them like schools of silverfish.

Wealthy families of deep-seated lineage oft spoke of sparing no expense, of preparing the finest dishes, with especial attention given to artful arrangements of mountain fare.

Upon Fallen Phoenix Mountain, Zhu Lian held the reins as Steward, a man of inexhaustible diligence, encompassing all matters, great and small, leaving nary a worry for those in his charge.

Each year, nay, each month, Zhu Lian received a Snowflower Coin as his due, striving, as he said, to accumulate a Lesser Heat Coin in time.

Standing before one of the kitchens, Chen Ping’an eyed a stack of treasure-laden food boxes, remarking with amusement, “If my old cook were here, he would say that these so-called venerable establishments hold fast to the skills of a novice.”

He recalled the taste of bamboo-twig crab from Lake of Script Scrolls City, the first time he had played host at a proper feast.

Such occasions were rare indeed. Most recently, within the Imperial City of Great Li, upon the Iris River, he had treated Guan Yi Ran and Jing Kuan to wine – though of no flowery variety. Jing Kuan, since, had departed the capital to assume the post of Prefect of Jade Creek County in New Prefecture.

“Old cook?” Qing Tong inquired. “Would that be Zhu Lian, the highborn scion of Lotus Blossom Paradise?”

Chen Ping’an countered, “Have you seen Zhu Lian in his true guise?”

Qing Tong nodded. “Lotus Blossom Paradise is well-known to me. I oft seek solace there. I have indeed seen Zhu Lian.”

And dared not look too long.

For the Demon-Suppressing Tower stood nigh the Dao-Observing Temple, and Qing Tong had glimpsed Zhu Lian twice from afar: once as a youth, venturing forth on a spring outing beyond the capital, and again as a young man, wandering the Jianghu with sword in hand.

Tales and legends oft spoke of maidens smitten at first glance, a trope all too common. Believe it or not, Zhu Lian need but show his face to set hearts aflame and debts accumulating, without uttering a word.

A carefree nobleman, gazing afar, a single strand of hair twirling between his fingers – enough to shatter the composure of any maiden who beheld him.

It was as if to love him, be it within wedlock or without, be it rewarded or unrequited, was akin to declaring a blood feud, to persist until death did part.

Countless grey-haired crones throughout the Jianghu, nearing their own ends, yearned to see young Zhu again, yet quailed at the thought.

“When does Fallen Phoenix Mountain plan to hold its Mirrored Moon Revelry?” Qing Tong jested. “If Zhu Lian were to reveal his true face, I would surely attend, and pledge no less than a Grain Rain Coin at the door.”

Of the four figures Chen Ping’an had brought forth from Lotus Blossom Paradise, Wei Xian and the others made no effort to conceal their true forms. Only Zhu Lian had adopted a new guise: a stooped old man, prone to vulgarity.

Chen Ping’an had been kept in the dark at the time, but Qing Tong had found it exceedingly amusing.

“Indeed?” Chen Ping’an chuckled. “I might strike a bargain with Zhu Lian, a private Mirrored Moon Revelry for you alone, Qing Tong. A Grain Rain Coin it shall be, and I vow you shall see Zhu Lian to your heart’s content, every day.”

Qing Tong fell silent.

He was a learned man, privy to many wonders, but such handsomeness as Zhu Lian’s he had never encountered. Maidens praised for their nation-toppling beauty would surely pale in comparison.

Beauty, it seemed, was not the sole domain of women.

The beauty of youth, pure as the moon, thoughtless and clear.

The grace of a young man, matchless for a time, an exiled immortal.

But think not Zhu Lian a mere pretty face, an embroidered pillow. The likes of Yu Zhen Yi, and their so-called ascensions to become “number one under Heaven,” were merely products of Lotus Blossom Paradise’s modest scale.

From princely scion to pillar of the state, a madman unifying the Jianghu, Zhu Lian’s claim as being the “best under the heavens,” was also brought on by the limitations of Lotus Blossom Paradise.

Though the outcomes seemed similar, the circumstances could not have been more disparate.

Chen Ping’an, abruptly, spoke in a whisper intended for Qing Tong alone: “Is the old Abbot’s path to Dao akin to the Great Dao of ‘Peace and Abundance Throughout the Realm’?”

Qing Tong countered, “Do you speak of the Bumper Harvest, Hidden Official?”

Chen Ping’an laughed. “A mere conjecture, nothing more.”

And it was true, for Qing Tong’s recent mention of Xiao Mo’s wine-making at Treasurefall Beach, coupled with the common saying that Xiao Mo was a “boon from the heavens,”

…plus the old Abbot’s true form and his seemingly ambiguous stance during the recent conflict, his apparent impartiality, standing broadly with the Glorious World, not swayed by his Daoist roots towards the Savage World…as for the making of wine, that was an act only of peaceful times…for who had the leisure to make wine during times of chaos? Indeed, across epochs, various dynasties had laws regulating or prohibiting it outright. As for those heroes in tales who casually ordered “a few pounds of beef” at taverns, that was seldom the reality.

This chain of far-flung clues, coming together in fragmented form, stirred Chen Ping’an, and he swiftly began to search the library in his mind, finally discovering an ancient, nameless adage – a tenuous thread, all but invisible.

Slowly, Chen Ping’an spoke: “May there be peace and abundance, much millet and rice, lofty granaries, a myriadfold in number, made into wine and sweet liquor, blessings descending in fullness, to grace all rituals.”

Qing Tong remained expressionless, saying nothing, as if deeming it unwise to tacitly agree, and added quickly, “Such ingenious fancies you possess, Hidden Official.”

Chen Ping’an cast a sidelong glance. Whatever the truth, Qing Tong’s own surmises likely followed a similar vein.

Did this mean the Dao-Observing Temple, and the Old Abbot, would possess great power during times of peace, yet weaken in times of strife?

Qing Tong found it all quite vexing.

In years gone by, the Dao-Observing Temple of the Eastern Seas had seen corn laid out to dry in its corridors and golden grain upon the threshing floor, the work of the old Abbot himself. Even the cocky young acolyte, eternally draped in a large gourd, was deemed unworthy to partake. The gourd, cultivated by the Ancestor himself, known as “Measured Bushel,” was also seen as mundane by many but was indeed a profound object. Its truest use was to measure grains.

And what required measuring more than the annual harvest of the realm?

Chen Ping’an made his way towards the Snow-Blinding Hall. He emerged into view, stepping out of a mirror. He spoke to Qing Tong, “You need not conceal yourself any longer.”

Within the Violet Sun Manor, only Wu Yi, at the Nascent Soul Realm, sensed their arrival, a killing intent in her stride as she cast aside her writing brush to confront them. But upon seeing who had come to visit her, she paused.

Never would she have believed that he would seek her out.

The proposal Chen Ping’an made met with instant acceptance.

She would not only gain invaluable merit, but even without such a boon, Wu Yi would agree to light the water-incense at his request.

Her father had revealed to her that the path to her future lay inextricably linked to Chen Ping’an and to the exiled Prince of the Lu Dynasty, Yu Lu, a close friend and former schoolmate of Chen Ping’an. As to how her father could know that the “idle” remnant of a fallen nation would take root in Tung Leaf Continent to restore Lu, Wu Yi held no interest.

Wu Yi asked Chen Ping’an to wait a moment as she made her way to the Sword Admonishment Hall, unlocking a secret passage. From within, she retrieved a treasure of the mountain.

As for the veiled woman, Wu Yi did not inquire, since Chen Ping’an had made no introductions.

Returning to the painted corridors, Wu Yi presented Chen Ping’an with a small, ornate wooden box.

Upon it, images of dragon-riding gods, phoenix-borne immortals, and ancient Daoists astride tortoises and qilin, adorned the surface.

This was the Manor’s ward against ill fortune, never glimpsed by any of the previous manor heads.

Wu Yi had intended to bestow it upon some prodigal swordsman, her chosen heir, to be presented upon his ascension to the Gold Core Realm.

Chen Ping’an chuckled. “I have not come to demand tribute, so why do you give me gifts?”

“Within lies an ancient Sword Pellet of exceeding rarity.”

Wu Yi, mistaking his hesitation for disinterest, felt obliged to elaborate. “My father gifted it to me upon my own ascension to the Cave Dwelling Realm.”

Most importantly, her father had been sated and in good spirits when he had bestowed this treasure.

Qing Tong glanced idly at the box, scoffing at Wu Yi’s claim of “exceeding rarity.” Her realm was so low, yet her tone was so strong.

But as Wu Yi whispered an incantation and brushed away the myriad seals upon the miniature box, a torrent of sword energy erupted, and purple mists rose.

Qing Tong was taken aback. It was indeed something of value.

A cascade of purple-golden characters appeared, proclaiming: “Ten thousand years facing the wall, unknown to man, yet three Purities require but clay bodies.”

As Cheng Long Zhou’s secret seals were broken, the characters dissolved like snow, scattering beyond Wu Yi’s grasp.

Clearly, Wu Yi had been prompted to break all the seals at once.

With a flick of his sleeve, Chen Ping’an captured the fading cadence.

Wu Yi regretted the gesture, her tone now subdued. “My father said that the pellet came from ancient Western Peak, forged by a Daoist of high virtue, to serve as a treasure to protect the mountain.”

To the cultivators of this era, the “ancient times” began with the division of the world ten thousand years hence. In the Glorious World, the founding of the Temples of Literature, followed by the dragon-slaying campaign and the declaration “No True Dragons Remain,” marked the end of that era. Others looked back a further three or four millennia, to a hidden inflection point, unrecorded in annals, a more nuanced view.

Chen Ping’an still declined to accept the box. “I have heard it said that the Ancient Western Peak governed the forging of metals and the realm of birds.”

In those days, according to the rites codified by the Sage of Rites, the Emperor made offering to the famous mountains and great rivers, granting the Five Peaks the status of Dukes, and the Great Rivers as Lords.

The true masters of the Five Peaks were not the Mountain Spirits but the “True People,” the Mountain Spirits serving as aides. Each oversaw different duties and were of great importance. For example, the “True People” of the Southern Peak oversaw the constellations and watery beings. The greatest power of the Western Peak was its power over metalworking and smithing, similar to what would become the Ministry of Works.

The “True People,” were the True Immortals of the land.

Of course, those of the realm, the land immortals were far more influential than they were now, for the land immortals that Xiao Mo and Qing Tong knew of were not of great status.

Wu Yi, steeling herself, pushed the box closer. “It is not given without conditions. If the Prince succeeds in his restoration in Tung Leaf Continent, I intend to assist him, and will need a word of support from Mountain Lord Chen.”

Chen Ping’an asked with a smile, “Is this one of Headmaster Cheng’s secret strategies?”

Wu Yi nodded.

Chen Ping’an accepted the box, tucking it away into his sleeve. “In that case, you may have made a poor bargain.”

Wu Yi smiled.

Her father had not instructed her to offer gifts at their first meeting. In truth, Wu Yi underestimated the weight of the sword pellet. Moreover, her fealty to Yu Lu was of no small benefit to him. Wu Yi sought to forge a personal connection with Fallen Phoenix Mountain, and particularly with its Hidden Official. In the Great Fu Academy, her father had said that even if she were to go to Tung Leaf Continent, she should not neglect her connection with Chen Ping’an, as their paths may cross more often than she knew.

Chen Ping’an said, “Let it serve as a gift for the founding of our Lower Branch.”

Since the dragon-slaying campaign, the descendants of Flood Dragons could only achieve true Dao by walking a river, for only the “Flood Dragon” could change and become officials.

For officials who became dragons, they served as a source of stability, they were symbiotic to the realms. This was a transaction of great value to both parties. In the Glorious World, there were times when jade seals of power would break, signalling the impending doom.

Because of this, the Scholars of the Academies watched over the world.

If dragons were ever found to do such a thing, the scholars and gentlemen could execute the dragons for their crimes.

On the other hand, Wu Yi’s father had worked in the Ministry of Rites, but it was more of a game to the dragon. Regardless, the presence of the dragon improved the luck of the nation.

The greatest downside to joining the court was that one would be punished should the kingdom be destroyed.

And that was why someone like Cheng Long Zhou hesitated to leave his home, for he did not want to be bound to the fate of a kingdom.

Because according to history, kingdoms rose and fell every three hundred years.

Only those who could not achieve the dragon gate used newly formed kingdoms as a means of ascending. They would choose to become dragons, so that even if they failed to ascend, they would at least become Nascent Soul cultivators.

Wu Yi was struck by the idea of a “Lower Branch.” She wasn’t surprised that Fallen Phoenix Mountain was becoming a sect, but to think they would create a lower branch so quickly was astounding.

“The Lower Branch will be in Tung Leaf Continent.”

Chen Ping’an added, “It seems you and I will be neighbors once more.”

At this, Chen Ping’an turned to Qing Tong.

“You will agree, friend Qing Tong, how very convenient?”

Qing Tong resigned himself to his fate.

Chen Ping’an walked side by side with Wu Yi, though it seemed he was leading her. “I am uncertain of Yu Lu’s fate, whether he shall restore his kingdom. If the day comes, I will gladly offer my support. But there is another option you might consider.”

Wu Yi smiled. “Tell me more.”

Chen Ping’an spoke of a certain woman of the Du Gu Clan, who would soon establish a new empire beside the Phosphorous River.

Wu Yi was intrigued. Was it not better to secure her gains now, rather than await Yu Lu’s restoration?

Or perhaps… she could serve as an advisor to both realms!

Still, she said, “Allow me to consider it.”

Chen Ping’an smiled. “Such a decision merits careful thought.”

Qing Tong, in a mental whisper, said, “She is blind to the truth, this Wu Yi. The pellet’s true value lies in how easily one can use it.”

It wouldn’t immediately ascend someone, but it was far easier than creating one’s own sword spirit.

And if it was given to a sword cultivator, it would be of great help to their cultivation.

Chen Ping’an nodded. “I fully agree.”

Qing Tong intended to mock him by saying, “A gentleman does not steal what another cherishes. Will you truly keep the pellet for yourself?” However, he changed his mind and said, “Unrecognized, a treasure unseen, ultimately lacking the affinity to grasp it. A basket of water, drawn in vain.”

Chen Ping’an said, “Indeed.”

Like Zou Zi.

And there was also some unknown cultivator who was his rival.

As Chen Ping’an attended the Conclave in the Temple of Literature, a young man who made a living copying scriptures often fished by the Duckweed Isle.

This was Liu Cai, a swordsman whom Chen Ping’an had been seeking, another of the top ten young cultivators of the world.

Liu Cai bore two gourds, named “Heart’s Matter” and “Immediately”. From the former sprung the sharpest swords, while the latter bred those of greatest speed.

Like Chen Ping’an, Liu Cai possessed two vital swords. One, Azure Sky, was hailed as a sword to vanquish all.

The other, White Colt, could transcend the bounds of time itself.

Liu Cai used Heart’s Matter to nourish Azure Sky, and Immediately to nurture White Colt – a match made in heaven.

They were created for Liu Cai, but they were also made for Chen Ping’an.

They seemed tailored to suppress the swords that Chen Ping’an formed when he had just become a swordsman.

Chen Ping’an asked, “Does the pellet bear a name?”

Wu Yi nodded. “My father said it is called Clay Pellet.”

Chen Ping’an smiled. “It is a name of great significance.”

Wu Yi said tartly, “Pray, do not rub salt in my wounds, Mountain Lord Chen.”

The trio, traversing the winding corridors, neared a secluded courtyard. Chen Ping’an halted, not knocking, as if awaiting a sign.

He did not peer within, but rather shielded the courtyard from prying eyes, so that even Qing Tong could not discern the happenings within.

Chen Ping’an folded his hands within his sleeves, smiling. “The Violet Sun Manor’s hospitality is as fine as ever.”

Wu Yi feigned ignorance. “If our Manor were to offer a grand estate to the esteemed Madam Xiao, I doubt she would find peace, such as she enjoys in this quiet refuge, brewing rare teas.”

Qing Tong clicked his tongue. “A mere Nascent Soul, and yet her pronouncements rival those of a true dragon!”

Strangely, Chen Ping’an seemed unmoved, nodding in agreement. “Indeed.”

Qing Tong wondered, what being could inspire such an exception?

Was it the River God of White Egret River, famed for her beauty? Or a mere sixth-realm martial artist?

Likely the latter.

The Hidden Official was a man of peculiar tastes. The opposite of what seems true is most often the answer.

Within the courtyard, the scent of tea filled the air. Xiao Luan recalled past events, marveling at the quirks of fate.

She could not understand, after leaving the place where she had been pardoned, that the young man had helped Sun Deng Xian.

The River God could not understand why Sun Deng Xian was so respectful to the swordsman, or why he was respected by Wu Yi.

She tried to ask Sun Deng Xian what Chen Ping An’s roots were, but they were shrouded in mystery.

Was this Sun Deng Xian’s connections? And if it was, why didn’t Sun Deng Xian reveal this connection sooner?

Sun Deng Xian was also confused, for he also did not know who Chen Ping’an was.

That night, Sun Deng Xian was guiding Xiao Luan to Snow-Blinding Hall when Chen Ping An noticed them. If Chen Ping An hadn’t revealed himself, he would not have recognized him. After all, Sun Deng Xian had only met him briefly on the road. He had been just a boy back then, accompanied by a girl and boy. Sun Deng Xian knew that they were not ordinary, but he could not remember him.

If the youths with him had not been notable, he wouldn’t have noticed. It seemed that meeting Chen Ping’an back then had helped save Xiao Luan.

During the threatening banquet, Chen Ping’an protected her. The relationship between the White Egret River had been saved due to his protection.

Sun Deng Xian drank a cup of tea. He suddenly realized that Xiao Luan had been staring at him in a strange manner.

“Madam Xiao?” Sun Deng Xian asked.

Xiao Luan stifled her laughter.

Sun Deng Xian was even more confused. Was she playing a riddle?

Xiao Luan smiled and said, “If I remember correctly, you made this gesture, and then said, ‘Well, if it isn’t a local boy made good! So good that I hear tell you are eating in this grand Purple Sun Manor now!”

Sun Deng Xian felt shame and said, “What I did was done in ignorance.”

After they met again, Chen Ping An addressed him as, “Great Hero Sun!”

The young master of Fallen Phoenix Mountain had challenged Zheng Yang Mountain with the swordsman Liu Xian Yang from Dragon Spring Sword Sect.

After that, he became the last Hidden Official. Then he led four sword cultivators into the Savage World to challenge Mount Support Moon.

Sun Deng Xian did his best to protect his kingdom. After Great Sui fell, he felt enraged, so he became a demon slayer. He would eventually capture a fox who transformed into a concubine, which only enraged Sun Deng Xian even more. Finally, he left his kingdom and became Xiao Luan’s steward.

Xiao Luan softly said, “Master Chen truly respects you.”

Sun Deng Xian smiled and said, “I wonder if he will still talk to me when we meet.”

Xiao Luan hesitated. “Why don’t you visit Fallen Phoenix Mountain? No one is asking you to do anything here. Why can’t you visit like you would during the New Years, drink with Master Chen, and talk about life?”

But Sun Deng Xian shook his head, never explaining the reason.

“Sun Steward, I can tell that Mountain Lord Chen feels a genuine admiration towards you,” she said.

In truth, she had a secret that she could not reveal, a secret that Wu Yi used to control her.

Sun Deng Xian said farewell and went outside.

He had been staying in the courtyard.

He prepared to open the door when he noticed Wu Yi and Chen Ping’an.

Wu Yi was accompanied by a young man with Taoist robes.

Xiao Luan walked out, and her gaze flickered with shame.

That man bowed and said, “Sun Steward, Lady Xiao, it’s nice to see you again.”

Sun Deng Xian was a steward, but Xiao Luan was a goddess. Yet the man put Sun Deng Xian before Xiao Luan.

Xiao Luan didn’t care about such things, for she curtsied and said, “Xiao Luan greets Master Chen!”

Sun Deng Xian cupped his fists and said, “I greet Mountain Lord Chen!”

Wu Yi pouted. It seemed that the Madam was lucky enough to have run into her Master Chen.

Wu Yi had to admit that Xiao Luan was a great beauty.

Women found her to be beautiful.

It was no wonder the authors and books praised her.

Wu Yi turned to Xiao Luan and said, “Madam Xiao, what do you want from me?”

Chen Ping’an said, “Let’s let them talk. I will drink with Sun Steward.”

Sun Deng Xian looked embarrassed. He had not brought any wine with him. Chen Ping’an said, “I have some bamboo sea wine.”

Sun Deng Xian and Chen Ping’an entered Sun Deng Xian’s home. Chen Ping’an asked Sun Deng Xian about his travels in Jade Mountain. He soon made himself comfortable. Since Sun Deng Xian was an old man of the Jianghu, he was soon talking about events that Chen Ping’An wanted to know. Sun Deng Xian brought up the others at Centipede Ridge. Chen Ping’An said that he knew them, and Sun Deng Xian said that those old folks would always talk about Master Chen. He would say that he knew him and they would berate him by saying things such as, “You knew him back then?”

Sun Deng Xian was turning red, and he was only slightly drunk. He asked, “Can I ask you something?”

Chen Ping’An smiled. “You want to ask about Cao Ci’s martial arts, don’t you?”

Sun Deng Xian asked, “Am I saying the wrong thing?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it. I lost four times to Cao Ci.”

Chen Ping’An said, “Cao Ci’s martial arts are as natural as can be. Every time he strikes, he seems to know my plans. He is good, and I can’t beat him.”

Chen Ping’An added, “Of course that is for now. My fights with him are far better than the ones in the Great Wall of Swords.”

Sun Deng Xian asked, “How did you learn your martial arts?”

Chen Ping’An thought it over and said, “I had a good teacher when I was young, and I have not stopped. The path of swordsmen may be higher, but the path of martial arts is just as important.”

Sun Deng Xian asked, “Why did you start making alcohol?”

Chen Ping’An joked, “Making money, of course. I’ve been poor since I was young. If I don’t have any money, I get nervous. A poor man’s money is just sweat on the hands. If you don’t sweat, there will be nothing. And even if you do, there is still nothing!”

Chen Ping’An continued, “Of course, I am not poor now, but making money can be addictive. I just remind myself to avoid bad deeds. And you need to pray for peace. The elders have always said that hoarding wealth is not always a good thing for your children, but doing good is what protects your children. It is better to do good than to leave behind wealth or books.”

Sun Deng Xian nodded. “Unfortunately, many don’t believe that now. They believe that you can’t be kind and still be rich.”

Chen Ping’An hesitated. “I will admit, it is very true. Those who have malice seem to do better.”

Sun Deng Xian sighed.

Chen Ping’An smiled. “If so, we’ll just go on our own paths. Besides, we are martial artists, so we can do more than eat and drink.”

Sun Deng Xian said, “There is indeed much.”

Chen Ping’An said, “When you visit my Fallen Phoenix Mountain, I will make the dishes myself.”

Sun Deng Xian said, “Those words are enough.”

Chen Ping’An realized that he had been correct. He was poor, but he was now rich.

Chen Ping’An was just like the ones he had met at Centipede Ridge, so he had nothing to fear. He was careful in the wild, and had to be careful as well in this foreign land.

Chen Ping’An never told anyone about these thoughts. Today, he met Sun Deng Xian and was getting a little drunk, but he could not tell him.

It was as if he was proving his path.

In the corridor…

The Saint and Teacher of Wisdom smiled. “So soon, you have already been figured out.”

The path of harmony that Bixiao Cave Lord took when he reached the fourteenth step was more complex.

He prayed to the heavens, but he was also bound to the land and by the people. To bring all three into harmony, he took a very interesting path.

After the world had been split, many of the younger masters had wondered about the old abbot who had taken this path. They wondered why he didn’t stay in the Savage World and went to the Glorious World.

But the wise men could only guess as far as Chen Ping’An had guessed.

Lu Yan said, “Chen Ping’an has the advantage, since books are more prevalent in this age.”

The Saint and Teacher of Wisdom sighed. “Is it so hard to admit that he is smarter?”

Lu Yan shook his head and said, “I don’t underestimate Chen Ping’An. I thought he was amazing when he came to the inn in Handan Road.”

The Saint and Teacher of Wisdom insisted, “You do.”

Lu Yan felt helpless. “Saint and Teacher of Wisdom, please do not harass a Taoist.”

The Saint and Teacher of Wisdom asked, “Do you think that Chen Ping’An has guessed the identity of Lu Sheng?”

Lu Yan said, “It is hard to say.”

The Saint and Teacher of Wisdom said, “That sword pellet is not an amazing treasure, but it is quite valuable. Do you think that Chen Ping’An will refine it or give it to someone else?”

Lu Yan said, “He will give it to someone else.”

The Saint and Teacher of Wisdom smiled. “He can endure all hardships and setbacks, so he can do anything.”

Lu Yan sighed. “Those who seek the Dao are selfish.”

Yet those who seek the Dao must have no selfish desires.

The greatest desire of man is to live longer and to live eternally.

The Saint and Teacher of Wisdom exclaimed, “Are you scolding yourself, scolding me, or scolding us all?”

Lu Yan shook his head. “I was just speaking without thinking. I will be leaving on a journey, so I am filled with melancholy.”

It seemed that soon, it would be time to wake from dreams.

Lu Yan had a strong mind, and he pushed his emotions down. He wondered, “Are the martial arts of the savage sword cultivator named Bai Jing greater than those of Mo Sheng?”

The Saint and Teacher of Wisdom nodded. “Indeed, she is very strong. But Mo Sheng is faced with a very difficult situation. He can’t kill her, but his swordplay will make her feel threatened. Mo Sheng is great at guarding, but he is a great killer as well.

When protecting the young lords, Mo Sheng could be a good guard, but he could also be a good killer.

The swordswoman Bai Jing loves the freedom of the wild.”

Chen Qing all could not control Xiao Xun in the Great Wall of Swords. Even if Bai Ze returned to the Savage World, he may not be able to control Bai Jing.

It isn’t that they can’t be controlled, but it is a mutual respect, a respect from the elders for the youths.