Lord Li Er, his wife, and daughter, followed his son-in-law Han Chengjiang on a journey to the northern reaches of Beiju Luzhou, to the Flowering Feather Dynasty. This marked the first proper visit between the families since the marriage.

The woman, no sooner had she dismounted the carriage in an alley called Qiaozhi, wider even than some main streets, than a profound unease took root. Before she even crossed the high threshold of her son-in-law’s mansion, her hands fluttered nervously, unsure where to rest.

Her son-in-law had earlier explained the origin of Qiaozhi Alley, something about tall Qiao trees soaring upward and humble Zizhu trees bowing low, a lesson she didn’t quite grasp and thus dismissed. But when she learned that the entire lane belonged to the Han family, their ancestral decree forbidding any division, she gasped. How wealthy her son-in-law’s family was! An entire alley, all Han? The cost of feeding them for a year must be astronomical!

The mere sight of the gilded plaque above the entrance, coupled with the pair of white jade lions, squatting taller than any man, was enough to strike awe into her heart. Once inside, the winding paths and endless courtyards left her dizzy. Not a speck of chicken droppings or dog mess to be seen, she dared not even spit. She sharply pinched her husband’s waist. He turned, grinning, and reached for her hand, but she slapped him away. “Old fool, have you no shame? What if those learned scholars see us? They’ll look down on Huai!”

She could only pinch her own arm gently. It stung, a sure sign this was no dream.

When she had brought her daughter and son-in-law back to their small hometown, she’d been bold enough to criticize the cooking of a distant aunt. But here, in her son-in-law’s house, she barely dared breathe.

She had always known her son-in-law came from a well-bred, scholarly family. But she could never have imagined the grandeur of his home, never in her wildest dreams.

Her daughter, now a married woman, was still the same quiet soul. Li Liu had always been reserved, much like her father. Thank heavens she had inherited her mother’s looks and figure, or she might have remained an old maid, unmarried.

Her husband, usually a quiet, unassuming man, surprised her. He seemed unfazed, nodding to everyone with a solemn face, more composed than she was. A small measure of comfort. She whispered a reminder, “Li Er, just like that. Speak little, and don’t bring shame on Huai. Or you’ll sleep on the floor tonight.”

Li Er grinned and nodded.

She rolled her eyes. “Clodhopper.”

Han Chengjiang quickly interjected, smiling, “Mother-in-law, please, there’s no need to be so formal. Make yourself at home.”

In truth, while the mother-in-law was nervous, Han Chengjiang was even more so, though he hid it well. He dreaded his family’s elaborate customs might discomfit his wife and her kin.

Thus, on the journey home, he had sent two letters ahead to Qiaozhi Alley in Jiang County, imploring his family to be respectful but avoid extravagant displays. If his grandfather hadn’t sent a reassuring reply, he would have written another.

The woman spoke softly, barely above a whisper, “Chengjiang, I’ve heard you’re the eldest grandson, the family’s quite grand, and there must be so many rules. Our family is different. Small, poor, used to little. Liu is such a quiet one; I fear she’ll bring you shame.”

Back in Huaihuang County and the little town at the foot of Lion Peak, even families with a few more members would squabble incessantly. What must it be like in a grand house like the Han’s, where so many were vying for power?

After a few days in the Han estate, the woman was most proud to mention her son, Li Huai, was a respected scholar at the Cliffside Academy of Great Sui.

But arriving here, she learned her son-in-law’s family counted the vice-chancellor and countless worthy scholars among their acquaintances.

The woman felt out of place, uncomfortable, fearing to make a fool of herself. At the family banquet, she struggled to choose which dish to sample.

Thankfully, Han Chengjiang’s grandfather, the old master Han, was most amiable. He had once served in the capital but, now aged, had returned home. He bore no airs of a high-ranking official, putting the woman at ease, giving her the absurd impression that perhaps the Han family of Qiaozhi Alley owed their family money.

She heard Han Chengjiang’s parents were journeying to Jiang County, his father, also a high-ranking official in the capital, needing leave from the court to return home.

Han Chengjiang’s father was none other than the Grand Secretary of the Flowering Feather Dynasty.

And the old master Han, in turn, was the former Grand Secretary, having served as the empire’s leader for nearly forty years, the undisputed head of all officials.

The Ministry of Personnel and the Ministry of War in the Flowering Feather Dynasty were traditionally either Han’s or held by Han’s disciples.

The woman longed to meet the in-laws and then quickly return to their shop in the town at the foot of Lion Peak, where she felt more at ease, where she could hear roosters crowing and dogs barking, where she could speak in a loud voice without fear of judgment.

Unlike here, where the servants walked without a sound, where even the smallest children, upon seeing them, bowed like teachers, a demonstration of their refined upbringing, no doubt.

In a study warmed by a heated floor, the nearly hundred-year-old master Han, still sharp and vigorous, regarded his grandson and granddaughter-in-law with a kindly smile, full of contentment.

Han Chengjiang was a cultivator of the Lower Five Realms, who had stumbled upon the path of cultivation by chance, with no real interest in it, and no desire for transcendence.

Master Han gazed at the seemingly fragile woman, asking with a gentle smile, “Are you finding it comfortable here?”

Li Liu smiled. “I’m fine, but my mother isn’t used to it.”

Master Han nodded. “No matter. The Han family owns a mountain villa outside the county. Chengjiang can take you there. It’s much like the countryside.”

Li Liu offered her thanks.

As head of the Han family, Master Han’s sources were well-placed. Li Er and Lion Peak hadn’t exactly been secretive, so he knew a good deal about the family.

Li Er of Lion Peak was a martial artist of the highest caliber, from the Lihua Grotto Heaven of the Treasure Bottle Continent. Few immortal cultivators of Beiju Luzhou knew this.

He had heard that the old rogue Wang Fusuo had visited the foot of Lion Peak and been soundly beaten by Li Er. Afterward, at the Literary Temple by the Duckweed Shoal, surrounded by Peak and High Boundary martial artists fishing, Wang Fusuo had supposedly claimed Li Er’s style was mediocre and lacked force.

The Flowering Feather Dynasty of Beiju Luzhou, like the Yuan Lu Dynasty of Central Earth Continent, was a first-class power. Furthermore, it was one of the few dynasties where the Imperial Court governed the immortal sects on the mountains. The Han family of Quwo County’s Jiang County, had the nickname of “Taishang Huang” in the Flowering Feather Dynasty. Historically, over a hundred members had been granted the posthumous titles of “Civilian” or “Martial”, and their ancestors were venerated in the Imperial Ancestral Temple.

But Han Chengjiang, the heir, was in his forties and had achieved little in court, having only reached the rank of an official in the Ministry of Rites. After five or six years of study, he resigned a few years earlier.

Han Chengjiang was recommended to become the chief editor when the Flowering Feather Dynasty began compiling massive volumes of work, as well as the junior academician of the Hanlin Academy who worked as the senior editor.

Master Han asked, “And what do you do now?”

Han Chengjiang had spent years travelling, and the grandfather and grandson rarely met.

Seated upright, Han Chengjiang replied respectfully, “I’m compiling two books, tentatively titled ‘Miscellaneous Notes’ and ‘A Collection of Admonitions’.”

Han Chengjiang read widely, categorizing and compiling prefaces, edicts, biographies, commemorations, and memorials. He noted the wise words of notable figures, and separately extracted them into sections on scholarship, self-cultivation, conduct, and prose.

Master Han nodded, smiling. “Sounds like something similar to the *Literary Selections* of the Two Wu or *The Drunken Sword Sweeping Antiquity* by Lu Xiangke.”

Han Chengjiang demurred. “Merely gathering scraps from others.”

Master Han waved his hand. “If done well, both works could become treasures for self-improvement and the betterment of others, steps towards wisdom. Show me the drafts later, so I can offer some guidance. If they’re ever published, remember to use a pseudonym.”

Han Chengjiang agreed.

The old man chuckled suddenly. “Li Liu, Chengjiang has a fine hand for calligraphy. Did he write the couplets for the ancestral home in Huaihuang County?”

Han Chengjiang’s calligraphy was highly skilled, favored by the current emperor. Thus, every Imperial stele was penned by Han Chengjiang. Before becoming the chief editor, the name of the Emperor’s study had been written by him.

Han Chengjiang was a prodigy who placed first among the upper-second class degree holders at twenty. As the eldest son, Han the Grand Secretary had requested the Emperor to lower his son’s ranking, not wanting his son to take the top spot from poor scholars. Thus, as Han the Grand Secretary returned home to worship his ancestors, especially to meet his in-laws, the Emperor gifted him a jade scepter, signifying, ‘may everything go smoothly on this trip to the capital’. In addition, he was given a hundred books from the imperial library, especially for Han Chengjiang.

Li Liu smiled. “My younger brother wrote the couplets and the calligraphies.”

Unceremonious, direct.

Master Han was speechless.

Han Chengjiang hid his amusement at his grandfather’s uncharacteristic reaction.

Li Liu glanced at the plaque bearing the name of the study:愧怍齋 (Kuizuo Zhai).

Taken from the words of a Confucian sage, ‘looking up, may I not shame Heaven; looking down, may I not shame man’, echoing the name of Qiaozhi Alley outside.

A couplet hung on the wall, bold and forceful.

风来海立，剑鞘之中有龙气 (When the wind rises, the sea stands still; within the scabbard, dragon’s breath.)

云抱山行，酒杯以外皆鸿毛 (When the clouds embrace the mountains, they travel on; all beyond the wine cup is but a feather.)

Han Chengjiang chuckled softly. “Grandfather doesn’t like to drink, he just likes the couplet.”

In his youth, his grandfather had served on the battlefield for over a decade, a renowned scholar-general.

Thus, Master Han would later say something strange in his official life.

‘My friends are mostly young people you don’t know.’

The old man sighed. “Lion Peak is an excellent place for cultivation. I only visited it once in my youth. These famous mountains and Daoist temples are not only good for cultivators, but also help scholars broaden their minds, inspiring them to strive for sagehood and selflessness.”

The master of Lion Peak, an eminent Nascent Soul cultivator, was a close friend of Zhou Mi, the former chancellor of the Yufu Academy.

The old man suddenly asked a question that others would find quite peculiar. “May I ask, what made you choose Chengjiang?”

Li Liu answered directly. “It’s a matter for the mountains, both old grudges and old connections, to be settled in this lifetime.”

Her marriage to Han Chengjiang had been a simple affair, with just a feast in the town at the foot of Lion Peak, no one from the Han family in attendance.

Han Chengjiang and the Han family had been accommodating.

Han Chengjiang’s previous two lives, in the Middle Earth and the Flowing Glow continents, had been intertwined with the reincarnations of Li Liu.

When old Man Yang asked Li Er’s family to leave the town and move to Beiju Luzhou, Han Chengjiang happened to meet Li Liu on a journey, and together they went to Lion Peak.

It was a fate preordained.

Li Liu knew it had been old Man Yang’s design, entrusted to Cai Daohuang, opening the marriage register in the matchmaker’s shop, writing names, tying red threads.

In exchange, old Man Yang had given Hu Feng an opportunity, allowing him to cultivate on the mountain.

However, the golden cicada husk, hiding a grotto heaven, had been Li Huai’s casual gift.

Master Han was silent, hesitant. Finally, he asked, “Li Liu, what is your current state?”

Li Liu replied, “Immortal.”

Master Han looked at Han Chengjiang, who seemed to be hearing this for the first time, yet remained nonchalant, a testament to his generous heart.

When Han Chengjiang had accompanied Li Liu on her visit to her hometown in Huaihuang County, he’d carried water and chopped wood, content with simple fare. He had only been alarmed by his friend Liu Xianyang, who had described Lin Shouyi and Dong Shuijing as villains who liked to knock people out.

He had attended the ceremony of the Luopo Mountain’s founding as a sect and drunk with the Lord Chen, who had paid a visit, finding himself outmatched in the drinking.

After a long silence, Master Han reached into his sleeve, raised it, and asked softly, “Is there hope for further advancement?”

Li Liu nodded. “Within a century, assuredly.”

Master Han fell silent again.

Right now, it seemed there was only one ascendant cultivator in Beiju Luzhou.

Fire Dragon, True Man of Crawling Mountain.

The old man smiled. “Few who achieve great merit in life retain their integrity in old age. Li Liu, I entrust Chengjiang to you.”

The risk of power outshining the monarch had always been the danger on the road to nobility.

Li Liu nodded. “No problem.”

The old man asked curiously, “I heard that the Lord Chen is also from the Lihua Grotto Heaven. He seems quite young. How old is he exactly?”

Li Liu replied, “A little over forty.”

The old man hesitated. “May I ask the Lord Chen’s state?”

According to current rumours, as one of the ten best young cultivators in the world, Chen Shiyi of the Sword Qi Great Wall, was an Jade Purity sword cultivator and a High Boundary martial artist.

Li Liu pondered. “Hard to say.”

*****

In Red Candle Town, a bookshop down a small alley.

A squat, awkward man came to the shop and said to the black-clad youth lounging in a wicker chair, “I’m here to buy a book.”

The River God of Surging Waters, Li Jin, immediately sat up and smiled. “A rare guest! A great honour!”

The man before him had been audacious, demanding the position of a state city god directly from the Great Li Dynasty. Only a county city god would not do, and he would rather remain in the Mantou Mountain Earth God Temple.

A bureaucratic promotion in the mountains and rivers was more difficult than in the Imperial Court. Yet the Great Li Dynasty had agreed.

There had been a time when this youth had helped the founding emperor of the Divine Water Kingdom, conquering nearly half of the kingdom in under a decade.

Almost uniting the ancient territory of Shu, the Divine Water Kingdom had encompassed territories including Great Sui and the Huangting kingdom. Even Great Li of the Treasure Bottle Continent had been swallowed into the border.

A general of great renown, a founding hero.

He had retired from the military at barely forty.

This man’s name was nothing out of the ordinary, Zhang Ping.

There were many called Zhang Ping in Red Candle Town.

At the first night banquet of Cloud Veil Mountain in the Northern Great Li Dynasty, the only mountain god under its jurisdiction who had not attended, had been this land god.

The outside world speculated that his rank was too low. In reality, the mountain office had sent out invitations written by Wei Bo himself, inviting Zhang Ping.

Wei Bo, had been the great mountain god of the Divine Water Kingdom. After the Great Li was established, Wei Bo was demoted again, until he became the land deity of Chessboard Mountain.

His situation differed from Jin Qing, the former great mountain god of the Zhu Ying Dynasty.

This new city god asked, “Do you have any military treatises?”

Li Jin pointed to a bookshelf. “They’re all there.”

Zhang Ping approached the shelf, glanced over the books, pulled out a well-printed *Biographies of One Hundred Generals from the Twenty-Seven Dynasties* about historical generals, and flipped a few pages. He then took another. It seemed he had found a general’s biography that he wanted to peruse. He put the book in his sleeve and asked, “How much?”

Li Jin laughed. “I’ll make an exception. It’s on the house.”

Zhang Ping turned to leave.

Li Jin called out. “Stay and chat. If I recall correctly, this is your first time at the bookshop?”

Zhang Ping stopped and asked, “What’s going on?”

There had been an upheaval in the mountains and rivers that even the city god temple had noticed.

Li Jin laughed. “The housekeeper from Luopo Mountain sent me two paintings. The Lord Chen came here recently to add gold and put his seal.”

Zhang Ping nodded. “Congratulations.”

“Retire from your achievements, this is the way of Heaven.”

Li Jin shook his head and laughed. “You’re a man of the military but you speak like a Daoist.”

In a similar vein, this man admired the general, surnamed Bai.

Martial Temples around the Haoran were constructed with Confucian rituals.

Counties and prefectures put up images of the Ten Philosophers of the Martial Temples. Cities erected statues for these people if they could.

Each capital city had the statue for both, or over a score of people.

Rumours said that the entrance to the Yasheng residence in the Middle Kingdom had gargoyles inlaid on the red doors, and the images of the four martial sages hung high.

Li Jin laughed. “The one you admire is bloodthirsty.”

Zhang Ping calmly replied, “I am not worthy to pull his horse. You can stop talking about him.”

The seventy-two generals differed from the mostly stable Confucian temples and were often replaced. However, the removal was often due to a general from another region taking the spot.

Zhang Ping from the Shui Kingdom was the exception.

Li Jin asked, “What about that little boy?”

Zhang Ping said, “The boy’s at the temple.”

Li Jin said, “A good connection.”

A small hill called Mantou had an Earth God Temple and a fair amount of incense.

With Zhang Ping now prosperous, this temple was preserved. Although the idol had been moved to the city god temple, this one had been repainted, and finally was a decent idol.

A child in red with jade, no larger than a palm, muttered as Zhang Ping left.

He cast a spell, and a carp appeared like a ferry.

The boy lept onto the carp’s back and took the fish by the whisker. He rushed to the Red Candle Town, rushed to the Chessboard Mountain, found the land god. He thanked him, lept on a python’s back, grabbed the scales, and rushed towards the Luopo Mountain. He kept saying that he would be on time.

At the gates, he failed to see the guard.

The earliest guard had been the Feng siblings. Then Cao Qinglang and Yuanbao. Then, the Lord of the Right, before the young daoist.

He bit his lips and crawled through the gate. He came to the door and began banging. “Guard, get up, wake up!”

He knocked until he was weak. “Guard, open the door!”

Unable to crawl through the door, he began to weep. He was unlucky.

Failing that, he would go up the mountain. She had to be up.

He would get there in time.

The door opened with a roll of book, and the guard, the daoist, asked with a grin, “What do you want?”

The boy puffed out his chest and demanded, “What, I have to clock in!”

“So many people came for the night feast that I had to stay late. It almost killed me.”

The guard remembered.

This man was sincere.

The guard walked into the house.

The boy began warming himself. It was like a volcano.

The boy whined, “Where are the snacks? You have nothing. You must be getting scammed.”

The guard ignored him and took out a booklet from Xiaomi, with a note indicating the days to be clocked.

The boy said, “Hurry up. With your insights, you would be eating farts in the government.”

The guard rolled his eyes and tossed the booklet aside. He was used to it.

The guard asked, “I didn’t ask, why do you show up to clock in?”

The boy gave him an incredulous look. “If I attend enough times, I can get promoted! I can’t live forever under people!”

Perhaps it was that his fate had not come yet. After enough meetings, he could greet the Lord of the Mountain.

The guard laughed. “Promoted? To what?”

The boy stuttered, “The Duke Pei and the Warden Zhou know what they are doing. I wouldn’t dare ask.”

In his old age, Duke Zhou held the position of warden.

Then Miss Chen and Chen Lingjun came to give protection.

That time, even he was allowed to sit at the table.

The leader, Miss Li, and the strategist were not there.

For that, the strategist got punished.

The boy complained, “Give me some melon seeds.”

The guard broke one open and put it aside.

The boy said, “I’ll recommend you for Duke Pei and the Duke Zhou.”

The guard laughed. “Should I thank you or what?”

The mountain Jin Qing left the office and went to the Bamboo Mountain Sword Sect to find Yuan Bai.

Yuan Bai said, “Do you want me to become a surname family?”

Jin Qing said, “I think you should reconsider.”

Yuan Bai shook his head. “Regardless of the Lord, or the upcoming Sect, I will remain here.”

“The next Sect of Luopo, the Sword Sect of Qingping, will be the first Sword Dao Sect in the Tongye Continent.”

Jin Qing continued, “Chen Pingan values you. Not your realm or status, just your fellow swordsmanship.”

Seeing Yuan Bai silent, Jin Qing said, “Don’t misunderstand. It is better for you to stay here, rather than the filthy Bamboo Mountain.”

Following the promise made to the Lord, Jin Qing would only seek out Yuan Bai.

Yuan Bai shook his head. “Forget it, I’ll pass.”

Jin Qing nodded. “Shall I inform the Luopo Mountain?”

Yuan Bai laughed. “Thank you, the Lord Jin.”

At the South Pond, Qin took out a bowl with water.

The water inside contained 80% of the old lake.

Had the sword immortal not cautioned her, she wanted to build a shrine.

As a lake god, and due to the Imperial Court’s ruling, she could hold office. She was going to ask the Confucian shrines of Guanhai School and Cliffside Academy, for sacrificial implements and scripture.

She took the initiative to relinquish merit, as it was not a transaction.

In the Northern Continent, Lingyuan duke Shen built an honourary plaque, placed even higher than his own.

The Virtue Tour Palace.

In the night, Shen stood outside the palace gates, and smiled as he looked at the calligraphy of Chen Pingan.

Taken from the sayings.

Shen said, “Virtuous ones roam heaven, autumn moon cold river. The sun asks, the moon learns, travellers think of home.”

In the Middle Continent, the furnaces of the founding Dao are rumoured to lie here.

A shopkeeper said, “Gan, do you want to be my disciple, and learn the art of immortality?”

The girl asked, “What do I get?”

Yang said, “I can give you the art of water.”

The girl frowned. “I might not approve of your art. I might not cultivate.”

This was the difference between the gods.

The shopkeeper laughed. “Of course, you can. Maybe you can become the river god.”

The old mountain god Gong was seventh rank, a good office.

But the girl, like the Earth God, was at the bottom.

The Lord Chen and the old talent had hinted at this.

If she wasn’t careful, Yang would get punished.

The young Lord was often accompanied by Qing, and his bodyguard, Xiaomo.

The old talent and the saint were there.

The river asked, “Will I be bowing and giving tea?”

Yang shook her head. “No need.”

The river said, “No need for a name, just to be formal.”

Yang laughed. “Why not? It’ll save trouble.”

After drinking, they became master and disciple.

Thereafter, the river left and the scholar arrived.

The old mountain god noticed him, a rare sight.

The scholar said, “Within the millennium, without permission, you cannot travel to the South Continent. There is a condition. You must travel to the Tongye Continent.”

“The Master Chen will provide a portion of water, to be used for the creation of canals. That is the price for freedom for one thousand years.”

Yang asked, “Just that?”

The scholar nodded. “If you agree, I will contact the shrine.”

Yang hesitated. “It can?”

The scholar laughed. “It is the shrine, not a joke.”

At the Mountain Ju, an old daoist left and went home.

The daoist knew he must be careful.

The incense was a nice touch.

He would greet his fellow Lord Chen and remind him that he was there.

After leaving the ship, he would go to the Deputy of the Bird Mountain.

The sky turned.

In the Tongye, at the Demon Tower.

The master stood far away and said, “The canals in the Tongye will require the mountain powers. With you, the Lord Young, and the Qingdao, it will be very easy.”

Chen Pingan gathered books.

Lord Jin had sent a tablet with 2000 carvings.

Wu gave a sword box with sixty charms.

Chen took the words from the poets.

The master looked far away, “A river of light is like two words.”

Chen Pingan said, “The present.”

The master said, “Start with the small, end with the large.”

Chen Pingan said, “If someone can do it, others can do it a hundred times.”

“The strong think a little, the weak think a lot.”

The master nodded, and smiled. “What is the most impressive line?”

“Yes.”

Chen Pingan said, “My family is poor, and there is no way to get books to see.”

The master laughed. “A good thought.”

There were less than ten people, excluding the ancient kingdom, who knew about the one on Chen Pingan’s body.

It was split equally with Zhou Mi.

The master said, “Guard yourself. Do not let him out before you become the Fourteenth realm. Do not let him dominate.”

Chen Pingan said, “I will try.”

Half of the Fifteenth would not matter.

What if the Sixteenth?

The master chuckled, “I would be afraid.”

There was a time when Dao gave way to someone.