Beneath the Southern Peak, where Mount Caizhi lay, Li Er took a deep breath. He gazed southward, offering a profound cupped-fist salute towards the stalwart figure of a blue-robed scholar in the distance.

The battlefield was too far, after all. Even as a martial artist of the pinnacle realm, Li Er lacked the divine power to encompass mountains and rivers in his palm. Furthermore, the chaotic aura surrounding the ancient Dragon Tail City battlefield rendered it impossible to see clearly.

Back in his hometown of the Li Zhu Grotto-Heaven, Li Er had once shared wine with Mister Qi. Li Er hadn’t expected Mister Qi’s visit; he only had a few bowls of inferior wine. Fortunately, Mister Qi hadn’t minded.

Even though the scholar before them could no longer be considered the true Mister Qi, it didn’t stop Li Er from offering his respectful salute.

Li Er suddenly transmitted his voice to Pei Qian, “You must trust your master. He and Mister Qi are both true scholars, not ones who only repay kindness with virtue. Moreover, your master’s lineage doesn’t have the habit of making the next generation bear the burdens of the previous one’s grievances.”

The lineage of the Literary Sage valued reason above all else.

The lineage of the Literary Sage also fiercely protected their own.

The Literary Sage Senior protected his disciples, even after his first disciple, Cui Chan, betrayed the literary tradition, the Old Scholar still shielded him, willingly imprisoning himself within the Forest of Merit.

Mister Qi protected his own, Left Senior protected his own, and the little junior brother whom Mister Qi accepted on behalf of his master also protected his own. In the future, the third generation of literary disciples would be no different; they would shield their younger successors.

If it weren’t for this, Li Er would have already struck the Mountain-Moving Ape of the Zhengyang Mountain. Back then, that old beast had hunted down Chen Ping’an and Ning Yao, running rampant. In doing so, it had trampled upon Li Er’s ancestral home. Li Er had squatted at his doorstep, sighing and lamenting, worried that acting out would break the rules and bring trouble upon his master, as well as Mister Qi and Master Ruan. So he endured it. His wife then cursed heaven and earth, cursing him the most, eventually dragging Li Er’s family to stay with her relatives for a period. They suffered much humiliation there. At the dining table, the dishes closest to Li Er and his family were all vegetarian. When Li Huai wanted to stand on the stool and grab a piece of “far-off” meat, he would be scolded for being ill-mannered, that no wonder Li Huai’s schoolwork was always at the bottom of the class. That what was the point of studying, with a brain that followed his father and mother? That it was clear he was destined to fail in his studies, and it was better to go work in the fields early, and strive to become a long-term worker for some wealthy family in Peach Leaf Lane…

Watching his son silently retract his chopsticks, obediently placing his bottom back on the long stool, the heart of the honest man nearly broke. But after all, they were family, and his family of four was still living under their roof. He couldn’t hit them, nor could he out-scold them. If he stubbornly insisted on a quarrel, in the end, wouldn’t it be his wife who would suffer? Li Er could only endure it. Fortunately, his daughter Li Liu didn’t care and directly took an empty bowl, walked to her uncle’s table, and filled it with a big bowl of meat for her younger brother, which made Li Er feel much better.

Pei Qian nodded lightly, barely suppressing the murderous intent in her heart.

If her Master’s Wife was like the moon in her master’s sky, then Pei Qian knew very well what Mister Qi meant to her master: a yearning that he never spoke of to others.

Pei Qian had glimpsed her master’s mental state twice, but she had never mentioned it to anyone. Her master was well aware of this, yet never said a word to her, not even offering her a chestnut.

Pei Qian’s current state of mind after returning from her journey was somewhat similar to her master’s after returning from Shujian Lake. Her master needed to take a trip to the fiercely tempered Northern Ju Lu Continent to suppress the Dragon’s Head Rising within his mental well. That was why Pei Qian, just after returning to the Fallen Mountain, immediately set off on another journey to the Southern Peak battlefield. In any case, on the battlefield, one didn’t need to worry about right or wrong when throwing a punch. There were no considerations of weight, life, or death; the heavier, the better. It was a simple matter of the enemy dying and oneself living.

On the Golden Armor Continent battlefield, Pei Qian’s understanding of the concept of “no one before me” became increasingly clear. In fact, there were two situations. One was that upon learning boxing, one must be bold and dare to throw punches at anyone, regardless of the strength of the enemy before you. Thus, there was no enemy before you. This was the spirit that a martial artist should possess. The other was that learning martial arts and boxing required extreme pragmatism, enduring hardship, and ultimately delivering punch after punch, dozens of punches, hundreds of punches, until all enemies before you were utterly annihilated, and thus there was no one before you.

Pei Qian transmitted her voice, curiously asking, “Is this Mountain-Protecting Offering of Zhengyang Mountain very powerful, with very hard fists?”

He didn’t seem like it. In the past, at the Fallen Mountain, Pei Qian, through various landscape reports and some gossip from the mountains, only knew that this old ape was famously unruly and arrogant, with no one in his eyes. Even at Zhengyang Mountain, with its ten sword paths and ten sword immortals, he was too unmanageable. It seemed he had always wanted to become the first Upper Fifth Realm demon race in the history of the Treasure Bottle Continent. If that were the case, not yet being in the Upper Fifth Realm, how could he have such an arrogant air, as if he were a Throne Realm Great Demon? Did he secretly learn Mi Xiaoli’s arrogant way of walking?

But just thinking about how her master and Master’s Wife, at the age of teenagers, had to join forces to deal with this old beast, Pei Qian couldn’t help but feel a little afraid. Although she threw punches without hesitation, and her boxing intent was at its peak, she couldn’t help but feel a bit of apprehension.

Li Er smiled and replied, “So-so. Back then, he could still rely on his physical advantage to spar a few punches with that Prince Song Changjing. Don’t underestimate him too much. Boxing intent must be higher than the sky, boxing techniques must be bigger than the earth, and boxing skills must have an ordinary heart. The fusion of these three is the essence of boxing. But this is what Zheng Dafeng said; Uncle Li can’t explain these principles.”

Pei Qian nodded, “Uncle Li’s principles are all in his fists. Zheng Dafeng indeed has more principles in his mouth, but his fists are not as good as Uncle Li’s. My master once told me in private that although Uncle Li hasn’t read any books, the principles outside of books are vast, and Uncle Li has a better eye because Uncle Li was the first to see that my master had the talent for martial arts, and even wanted to give my master a dragon king basket and a golden carp. My master said it was a pity that he didn’t have good luck at the time and failed to receive this gift, but my master has always been grateful for it.”

When Pei Qian spoke of her master, her expression would naturally soften a bit, and her state of mind would also tend towards peace and tranquility.
Li Er grinned with simple honesty. He wouldn’t presume to call it discerning judgment, but back then, that straw-sandaled youth had simply struck him as the most agreeable. He had, after all, watched the lad grow up. When Chen Ping’an was still a child, he frequently dealt with the Yang family’s apothecary, and Li Er had taken it all in. At times, Old Man Yang would ask Li Er to keep an eye on the boy when he went up the mountains to gather herbs. As Pei Qian had said, Li Er was the first in the Li Zhu Grotto-Heaven to see Chen Ping’an’s potential. In truth, Li Er also had a good impression of Pei Qian, Chen Ping’an’s first disciple. The little girl respected her master, endured the hardships of learning martial arts, and had achieved martial prowess. The higher her fist techniques rose, the less readily she threw a punch. Who did that remind him of? Why, himself, Li Er!

Wang Fusuo grumbled, “What are you two whispering about? Girl Zheng, are you treating me like an outsider?”

Pei Qian smiled.

Wang Fusuo asked, “Girl Zheng, won’t you reconsider and change your allegiance to train with me? If you become my closed-door disciple, you’ll be a shoo-in for the title of Female Martial God of the Northern Ju Continent.”

Pei Qian shook her head, once again politely declining the old martial artist’s offer. “For us martial practitioners, the greatest enemy lies within oneself. I seek no empty fame.”

Wang Fusuo was taken aback, then chuckled in exasperation. “What kind of drivel did your master teach you?”

If it had been the younger Pei Qian, she would have already dug up Wang Fusuo’s ancestors for eighteen generations in her mind at such an outrageous remark. But now, Pei Qian simply said calmly, “Senior Wang, my master said that if I surpass my yesterday’s self today, and my tomorrow’s self surpasses my today’s self, that is true martial achievement. Only with such inner competition can one have the right to compete with others, with heaven and earth.”

Wang Fusuo let out an “oh,” nodding his head and laughing heartily. “That actually makes a bit of sense. Is your master perhaps a scholar? How else could he utter such refined words?”

Pei Qian nodded. “Of course my master is a scholar.”

Wang Fusuo felt a pang of regret. He had tried to coax Zheng Qian into becoming his disciple these past few days, but the little girl remained unmoved.

This girl named Zheng Qian was truly extraordinary. Leaving aside her martial arts’ foundation and origins, she was a veritable martial arts fanatic, seemingly possessed, practicing her fists at all times. After meeting Li Er, she had proactively requested four bizarre immortal talismans from the Lion Peak realm martial artist. Though the talismans appeared light and airy, they were in fact extremely heavy, and Pei Qian had affixed them to her wrists and ankles to suppress her own fist intent and temper her physique. Thus, at first glance, Pei Qian resembled a Golden Body Realm martial artist who had not encountered a wise master and whose stance had gone awry. Wang Fusuo was very interested in those talismans, but Li Er was ill-tempered. He said they couldn’t be bought with money, but he’d give them away for free, provided you could win against Li Er’s fists. Win, and not just four, but forty talismans would be no problem.

Wang Fusuo’s head began to throb just thinking about the unrestrained martial exchange at Lion Peak. Best to forget about it. Youth triumphs over age, and a young pup landing a lucky punch on an old master was no accomplishment. This old man was magnanimous, tolerant of a junior’s impudence, and wouldn’t stoop to arguing with a young man whose physique and soul were at their peak, like Li Er. If only the old man were a hundred or two years younger, he could easily take a dozen more punches, then collapse dramatically, easy as pie!

Wang Fusuo asked, “How old is your master?”

Pei Qian treated him with sincerity. “Older than me, younger than Uncle Li and Senior Wang.”

Wang Fusuo was greatly surprised, and couldn’t help but ask again, “So he’s good at suppressing his cultivation to spar with you?”

Pei Qian nodded vigorously. “Of course!”

Wang Fusuo asked Li Er, “Is there really such a young martial arts grandmaster in the Jewel Bottle Continent? Why hasn’t there been any news? Even the Ice Walled Continent has that Miss A-Xiang, whose fame has reached my ears. The Jewel Bottle Continent is so close to the Northern Ju Continent; his name should have stirred up the two continents’ mountains long ago.”

Li Er said impolitely, “I’m not close enough to you to answer. Ask someone else.”

Wang Fusuo, this famously boorish old man, immediately flared up, rubbing his hands together. “Li Er, let’s find a place to have a spar?”

Li Er said, “And then lie on the ground after three or five punches, moaning and pretending to be dead?”

Li Er truly wasn’t skilled at conversation. Dismantling ancestral halls was his forte.

Wang Fusuo wouldn’t mind a martial exchange with Li Er, but with Zheng Qian here, he would let Li Er off the hook for now.

Pei Qian glanced sideways at the white-robed old ape. It seemed to be in a bad mood? Excellent, then she was in a very good mood. The Azure Sun Mountain, full of sword immortals, was it? Just you wait.

Wang Fusuo lamented, “It’s a pity our sword immortal drinking buddy isn’t here; otherwise, the anomalies at Old Dragon City could be seen more clearly. This is the problem with martial artists; they don’t have all those strange and useless spells to rely on.”

Here at the Mountain of the Crown Prince, the only anomalies that martial artists could clearly see were those occurring on the battlefield ahead of the Southern Mountain.

Inside the pavilion, Chun Qing quickly took out a pot of Azure God Mountain rice wine, taking a sip to calm his nerves. How could the Great Li Dynasty, or rather, the Embroidered Tiger, Cui Chan, so thoroughly refine and utilize the literary and martial Qi of an entire continent, ultimately turning it to his own use?

A mortal’s body could never compare to a true deity. After this battle, that assumption by the cultivators of the Vast Sky World would likely be overturned.

The golden-armored divine warrior, thousands of feet tall, had appeared from the accompanying capital, wielding an iron mace. Then, another armored divine warrior, wielding a Great Li standard-issue warblade, stood in the mortal realm without warning. One to the left, one to the right, the two armored martial generals stood like door gods for a household, appearing one after another in the center of the battlefield, halting the fierce onslaught of the demon clans, who were like a swarm of locusts crossing the border.

In fact, these two martial luck deities, enjoying countless mortal incense offerings, were the ancestors of the Great Li’s two pillar families, Yuan and Cao, two faces most familiar to everyone throughout the land.

The two martial luck deities, equivalent to Ascension Realm cultivators, spoke almost simultaneously in a booming voice: “Those who invade our land, shall be slain.”

“Those who trample our mountains and rivers, shall be exterminated.”

But even more unbelievable was the blue-robed scholar who pressed an ancient god into the sea with a single palm.

Another foot stomped down, stirring up monstrous waves, and burying the seemingly invincible ancient god into the seabed.

The high-ranking god, visiting the Vast Sky World from beyond, tried to struggle to his feet, and within a thousand miles, shattered and scattered brilliant glaze colors revealed the god’s astonishingly immense battle power. But then, the blue-robed scholar stomped him down further into the depths of the sea.

The two armored martial luck deities were struck by countless spells, divine abilities, and offensive magical treasures from the demon clan cultivators. Although they still stood tall, they were still losing some of their divine essence, both great and small.
Only the Dharma Image of that azure-robed scholar from Old Dragon City completely disregarded the onslaught. Because he was situated in the heart of the demon army’s gathering, the thousands of resplendent spells and formidable mountain artifacts all missed their mark. Simply put, the azure-robed scholar could suppress the remnant of the ancient deity and even transform the shards of the River of Time into weapons of attack, shattering sword-vessels and unleashing countless flying swords, wantonly slaughtering the demon army within a thousand miles. However, the demons of the desolate world seemed to be facing an opponent that did not exist.

This scene left Chun Qing, far from the battlefield, deeply shaken. Higher than the Ascension Realm? Could it be the Fourteenth Realm? Logically speaking, even someone like Cui Chan, who had reached the Ascension Realm, would not be able to bear it. Martial fortune was still manageable, as the Song clan of Great Li flourished in martial prowess, and the two Door Gods, Yuan and Cao, were ubiquitous throughout the continent. However, literary fortune was not something that could be easily filled into a basket. The requirements for the realm of the heroic spirit before death were far too high, even beyond the reach of all the accompanying sages and worthies outside the Four Sages of the Central Earth Confucian Temple. As for the Four Sages, including the Sage of Literature, apart from the Supreme Master, the Sages of Rituals, Subtlety, and the Old Scholar all possessed such “capacity,” but they had each embarked on their own separate paths, effectively severing this route. Otherwise, the Confucian school would have long employed such methods to confront the desolate world. If the one Principal and two Deputy Masters of the Confucian Temple were willing to act in this manner, there would be one Fourteenth Realm expert in Tongye Continent, another in Fuyao Continent, and yet another in Nanposuo Continent.

Chun Qing retrieved another jar of rice wine and asked Cui Dongshan, “Want a drink?”

Cui Dongshan, standing on the railing, laughed loudly, “Why drink wine? I’m already drinking now, drunk as hell!”

Cui Dongshan raised his arm high, jumping and cheering repeatedly, “Uncle-Master is awesome, Uncle-Master is strong, Uncle-Master is fierce, Uncle-Master is truly invincible…”

Chun Qing understood in her heart that it was indeed that Mr. Qi. Within the lineage of the Sage of Literature, apart from the most inconspicuous Liu Sixteen, Qi Jingchun’s two senior brothers were even more renowned: Cui Chan, known for the three jewels of Haoran, and Zuo You, whose swordsmanship, despite starting late, surpassed all others. In contrast, Qi Jingchun, the Old Scholar’s favorite, was often associated with mountain rumors that had little to do with scholarly depth or cultivation level, such as Zheng Juzhong, the Lord of White Emperor City, unexpectedly taking the initiative to invite an outsider to play a game of Go in the Rainbow Cloud Pavilion.

Cui Dongshan suddenly fell silent and turned to Chun Qing, saying, “Give me a jar of wine.”

Chun Qing tossed him a jar of wine, and Cui Dongshan tore off the mud seal, tilting his head back and gulping down the wine, his face covered in it.

That figure in azure robes, with one foot planted on the land of the old site of Old Dragon City in Baoping Continent, and the other foot imprisoning that ancient, high-ranking deity at the bottom of the seabed. Each time the latter struggled to rise, it would be met with a kick, its massive form sinking even deeper. In the southernmost waters of Baoping Continent, the wind howled, and the waves surged, severing the originally connected battlefield formation of the desolate world at the waist.

This scene made the white-robed old ape at the peak of Caizhi Mountain’s eyelids twitch, his fists clenched, almost revealing his true form, as if only then could he feel a little more at ease.

The azure-robed scholar’s figure became increasingly ethereal, like a cultivator’s soul wandering far, far away from the mountain peak. One of his Dharma Images first formed the Baoping Seal, then successively formed the Expounding Dharma, Fearless, Wish-Granting, Demon-Subduing, and Meditative seals, and then, in an instant, formed three hundred and eighty-six seals.

The azure-robed scholar, like a Confucian sage uttering celestial decrees, spoke in the language of Buddhism: “Roaring like a lion.”

Auspicious light flowed between heaven and earth, radiating brilliance and illuminating all directions.

Another azure-robed scholar, on the other hand, formed Daoist hand seals, a total of three hundred and fifty-six seals, each a talisman, ultimately coalescing into a Lightning Formation.

The scholar raised one hand and spoke the words “Thunder Pool.” A sage’s words were law, yet he used the Daoist art of edicts to manipulate the machinery of heaven, and a vast golden Thunder Pool manifested in the sky.

This person was like a Buddhist sage who had attained enlightenment appearing in the mortal world, and also like the Celestial Master of the Fuyu Xuan and Dragon Tiger Mountain, simultaneously displaying supernatural powers.

The Lightning Formation crashed down into the sea, first using the pattern of mountains and waters to confine the remnant of the ancient deity trapped in the sea, and then refining it with a pool of heavenly tribulation lightning.

In addition, nearly four hundred Buddhist Dharma Seals, half of them took root one by one, causing the dense demon army on the ground to disappear out of thin air, falling into small worlds one after another.

The remaining half, nearly two hundred seals, all fell on the vast sea between the two continents, creating constant whirlpools, revealing the seabed, forcing the great demons of the desolate world to run for their lives, either frantically seeking refuge or attempting to fill the whirlpools that shattered the sea lanes.

On the summit of Mount Nan, the Chicken Soup Old Monk flicked his sleeves, and then the old monk suddenly tilted his shoulders, staggering, as if his sleeves were a bit heavy.

At the southern end of Tongye Continent, at the ancestral mountain of the Jade Gui Sect, a young Daoist smiled knowingly and sighed, “So Mr. Qi’s attainments in the Dragon Tiger Mountain Five Thunders Orthodox Art are so profound. Simply relying on the formation that detained the Master of the Glazed Pavilion can deduce and evolve to this Lightning Formation. Mr. Qi can be called a master of all learning.”

Chun Qing began to drink again. Her Sect Leader Master was right; there were mountains beyond mountains, and heavens beyond heavens.

Chun Qing was young, but thanks to the incense offerings at the peak of Qing Shen Mountain and her own innate talent, she had learned a wide variety of skills and enjoyed the reputation of having pure and refined techniques. However, now that she had personally witnessed the skills of that azure-robed scholar, Chun Qing felt embarrassed. No matter how humble the young maiden who had first walked out of the Bamboo Sea Grotto was, and no matter how early she knew her limits, the magnificent scene she had seen still made Chun Qing’s heart sway and feel ashamed, feeling that she would probably never be able to reach Old Dragon City in this lifetime.

Cui Dongshan laughed loudly, “Miss Chun Qing, don’t be discouraged. After all, he’s my teacher’s senior brother. It’s normal for his skills to be higher!”

Chun Qing murmured, “It’s too high, I can’t learn it even if I wanted to.”

Cui Dongshan carried the wine pot with only a few sips left, moving sideways along the way. When he leaned against the pillars of the pavilion, he began to be silent.

Qi Jingchun was already in the Fourteenth Realm a long time ago.

Harmony, harmony with what way? The timing of heaven, geographical advantages, and the harmony of people? Qi Jingchun directly harmonized with the roots of the three religions!

In that battle back then, he didn’t retaliate, only using his natal word to withstand the heavenly tribulation and dispel karma.
That old scoundrel insisted on going to the Carp Pearl Grotto-Heaven himself as a precaution. He feared that truly enraging Qi Jingchun might stir some long-dormant youthful spirit within him, leading him to overturn the chessboard and strike directly, outside the rules of the game. Death was unlikely, but suffering was inevitable. And indeed, countless large and small hardships befell Cui Dongshan alone, landing squarely on his… head. First, he suffered a decline in his cultivation realm at the Yuan family’s old residence in the Carp Pearl Grotto-Heaven. Then, after finally escaping the Grotto-Heaven, he was beaten with a ruler by the Old Scholar, forced to cool off at the bottom of a well. After great effort, he climbed out of the well, only to have Little Bottle stamp his head. Arriving at the Great Sui Academy, he was not only constantly scolded and beaten by Mao Xiaodong but also bullied by a grandson named Cai Shenjing. Each and every event was a tearful tale of woe, enough to fill several tragic odes with ink made from his bitter tears.

However, at the time, the old scoundrel hadn’t been certain of Qi Jingchun’s true realm. Was he an Immortal Realm cultivator? Or a Soaring Ascension Realm cultivator?

It wasn’t until Cui Dongshan and Cui Chan jointly re-examined the River of Time scroll that they inadvertently discovered a scene: Qi Jingchun and the straw sandal-wearing youth standing together beneath the old locust tree.

Coupled with all the “posthumous” arrangements Qi Jingchun had made, such as journeying to the Lotus Grotto-Heaven and discussing Dao with the Dao Ancestor, and ultimately obtaining a lotus flower to conceal the heavenly secrets for the Old Sword-Spine…

If a Soaring Ascension Realm cultivator perished, leaving only remnants of his soul, how could he still ascend to the Azure Vault Heavens?

And how could Qi Jingchun casually point his finger, like a sword, and cleave the Dragon-Slaying Platform?

Qi Jingchun wasn’t a sword cultivator, nor did he possess a handy weapon. Yet, with a single finger, he severed the Dragon-Slaying Platform. Let the military strategist Ruan Qiong, also a pillar supporting the world, try to do that!

Cui Dongshan sat down, leaning his head against a pavilion pillar, cradling a wine flask. His snowy white figure stood motionless, like a snowman sculpted on the mountain.

Perhaps the Sages of the Central Earth Confucian Temple were worried and anxious about the ultimate direction of the scholarly lineage, fearing it might become muddied and unclear, ultimately harming the ideal of returning to the true source. Hence, they ultimately chose to stand by and watch. This wasn’t actually that strange.

Then, why didn’t the Most Sage Teacher, and the Ritual Sage, who had long admired Qi Jingchun, step forward to stop him?

Why did some hope that Qi Jingchun could go to the Western Buddhist Kingdom?

The reason was simple: If Qi Jingchun himself wanted to live, he wouldn’t need the Confucian Temple to save him.

It wasn’t by “fleeing into Zen” that he could survive, nor by hiding within the Old Scholar’s hairpin. Rather, it was that Qi Jingchun could live and even win if he was willing to truly act.

But if that happened, Qi Jingchun’s full-strength attack would inevitably affect the luck of a continent’s mountains and rivers. The backlash and karmic retribution accumulated by the Carp Pearl Grotto-Heaven over three thousand years would also come crashing down.

This was the fundamental divergence in the Great Dao between the Embroidered Tiger and Qi Jingchun. According to Cui Chan’s doctrine of pragmatic governance, perfected over a century, for oneself, for others, for the world, and for the Way, Qi Jingchun should absolutely not have chosen this path.

But Qi Jingchun refused to calculate things in this way. What could outsiders do?

Cui Dongshan stubbornly refused to believe it at the time, only to end up being disliked by everyone. In the Yuan family’s ancestral home, he insisted on competing with Qi Jingchun in scheming, resulting in a continuous decline in his realm, a miserable end, and a complete mess.

What about the martial luck and scholarly luck of Treasure Bottle Continent after Qi Jingchun’s passing, and for all the young people and children of Carp Pearl Grotto-Heaven?

Forget about scholarly luck, just talk about martial luck. The Prince Song Changjing advanced to the tenth realm, Li Er advanced to the tenth realm, the Bamboo Tower Old Man nearly advanced to the eleventh realm, Zheng Dafeng of Old Dragon City, and later Chen Pingan, Pei Qian, Zhu Lian…

This was Qi Jingchun’s calculation.

It is better to have a thousand lamps of mortal hearts light up in sequence in the world than for me alone to stand like a god.

When the world is good, cultivate oneself in solitude, studying in the scholar’s chamber. When the world is not so good, benefit all under Heaven, sacrificing oneself without hesitation.

Cui Dongshan suddenly sat down on the railing, overcome with sorrow, and murmured in his heart, “Qi Jingchun, in the end, left his fourteenth-realm cultivation to the old scoundrel, still treating Cui Chan as his senior brother. That damned Cui Chan, even after all this, still set up that Heart-Questioning Bureau in the Book Brief Lake, still wrote that Mountain and Water Travelogue. The old scoundrel never even told me any of this, deliberately keeping me in the dark, knowing nothing at all.”

Cui Chan had indeed concealed many things.

For instance, the matter of opening the Qi Ferry, and those calligraphy scrolls. Cui Dongshan only thought it was a contingency plan left by Qi Jingchun, such as allowing Wang Zhu to successfully walk the path of the Flood God, causing the world to regain its first True Dragon, coupled with the Great Flood, causing Treasure Bottle Continent’s waterway to surge. Add to that the Five Sacred Mountains of the continent, which were actually a hidden Mountain and Water Formation. Cui Chan had secretly refined a Water Character Seal and a Mountain Character Seal. The entire Great Flood was the Water Character Seal, and the Southern Sacred Mountain of Great Li, built little by little through accumulating soil, was a Mountain Character Seal. Or, strictly speaking, a Flipping Heaven Seal. Where would it be stamped in the end? It was the old site of Old Dragon City! It would crush a vast area, including the entire old site of Old Dragon City, which was the southernmost mountain and river of Treasure Bottle Continent, preventing the Barren Wilderness from polluting even an inch of Treasure Bottle Continent’s land with its luck after landing!

Who would dare to do such an outrageous thing? Who could do it? In the vast world, only the Embroidered Tiger dared. And after he succeeded, everyone, from those on the mountains to those below, would feel delighted and satisfied. Wasn’t it frightening? Even Cui Dongshan himself was afraid.

Cui Dongshan understood all of this, because these far-reaching plans were the predetermined strategies that the soul-separated Cui Chan and Cui Dongshan, himself and himself, had played out long ago.

That’s why he had been willing to work so hard and diligently all these years.

Only the fact that the Qi Ferry Shrine contained a “Qi Jingchun” who resembled both a Boundless Realm cultivator and a fourteenth-realm cultivator was something Cui Chan hadn’t mentioned a single word of to Cui Dongshan.

Qi Jingchun, who was both a junior brother and a senior uncle, had deceived both his senior brother and his nephew. That was one thing, but Cui Chan, that bastard, had even deceived himself!

Cui Dongshan originally thought that Emperor Song He’s declaration to the world, and his large-scale construction of temples and Daoist abbeys, was just Cui Chan’s work on the matter of people’s hearts. He never thought that everything was, in the final analysis, for today, all to make “Qi Jingchun’s” fourteenth-realm today even more stable.
That golden lotus, using the entirety of Treasure Bottle洲 as its flowerpot, coupled with Cui Dongshan shamelessly inviting the Chicken Soup Old Monk. Even earlier, as the crucial chess piece for the Great Li iron cavalry’s southward advance, why was it Xie Shi, the Heavenly Sovereign of Northern Ju蘆洲, who descended south to the Vermilion Fluorescence Dynasty? Why was there that Inquiry of the Heart at the Scroll Book Lake? That shameless Cui Chan had even calculated that old gentleman who wasn’t within the Confucian lineage, along with Confucianism, Buddhism, Taoism, the Divine Edict Sect, He Xiaoliang, Old Boatman Fan, and Cao Rong, the Daoist cultivating on the mountain in the White Frost Dynasty.

However, Cui Dongshan could be certain of one thing: Qi Jingchun was destined not to say a single word to Cui Chan.

Back in the day, within the lineage of the Literary Sage, the two senior and junior brothers had always possessed the same stubborn temperaments. Don’t be fooled by Zuo You’s rigid personality and reticence; in fact, among the direct disciples of the Literary Sage, Zuo You was the most approachable. He was far, far easier to deal with than Junior Brother Qi Jingchun.

Qi Jingchun merely placed a single piece on the chessboard. After Cui Chan took over, he began a game against the entire Barren Desolate World. How to place more pieces across a continent’s rivers and mountains afterward depended entirely on the Embroidered Tiger’s abilities. Even Qi Jingchun’s death and dissipation, and Mao Xiaodong remaining only the Vice Headmaster of the Great Sui Cliffside Academy, ultimately allowing Cui Chan to assume the position of Headmaster and lead the academy back into the ranks of the Seventy-Two Academies, were all meticulously planned by Qi Jingchun long ago.

Cui Dongshan sat blankly on the railing, having long since discarded the empty wine gourd, yet his face remained covered in wine.

“Understood, it’s that Spring Character Seal.”

Back then, Qi Jingchun gifted this seal to his disciple Zhao Yao, but it was intercepted by Cui Dongshan, who effortlessly “crushed” it, causing the Daoist intent of the Spring Wind within the Spring Character Seal to scatter throughout the heavens and earth.

And that year, throughout the entire Vast Expanse World…

“I should have been calculated by both Qi Jingchun and that old turtle Cui Chan.”

Cui Chan and Qi Jingchun, two senior and junior brothers who had long since turned against each other and wouldn’t utter a single word to each other, had been, for so many years, like placing pieces against each other, yet they were on the same side, playing a single game together. This, of course, demanded even more skill from the two players. In the end, the two of them faced the trends of two great worlds as enemies.

Cui Dongshan muttered to himself, “There was a year when spring departed extremely late, and summer arrived extremely delayed.”

He suddenly turned his head and asked, “Chunqing, do you know how many strokes are in the character ‘Spring’?”

Chunqing was completely bewildered. “Isn’t it nine strokes?”

Cui Dongshan asked again, “How many continents are there in the Vast Expanse World?”

Chunqing said helplessly, “You know the answer already, there are nine continents.”

Cui Dongshan nodded, murmuring, “Who says it isn’t so?”

On the summit of Southern Mountain, the two military strategists, revered by Cui Chan as Ancestor Jiang and Mister Wei, exchanged glances immediately after witnessing the strange phenomenon at the Old Dragon City ruins.

Meanwhile, Cui Chan, who had previously requested a large stack of papers, was currently poring over them one by one. They were all the answer sheets from the Great Examination held by the Military Strategist Ancestral Hall in the Central Earth last year, where disciples of the Military Strategist school had answered a question posed by Ancestor Jiang, a very simple one: If you were the Great Li National Preceptor Cui Chan, how would Treasure Bottle 洲 respond to the demon race’s assault from Tongye洲? Cui Chan seemed like the chief examiner of an imperial examination, and whenever he saw well-phrased sentences, his heart would stir slightly, and he would add a line or two of commentary on the side. Cui Chan flipped through and annotated the papers very quickly. Soon, he selected three, then returned the rest of the large stack of exam papers to Ancestor Jiang. Cui Chan smiled and said, “If these three are willing to come and serve Great Li in the future, I will have people protect their Dao somewhat. But I hope that when they come here, they won’t break the rules. They should adapt to the local customs and progress step by step. As for what position they ultimately reach, it will depend on their own abilities. As for those who might be young and hot-blooded, wanting to discuss backers with Great Li, it won’t be of much use, and they’ll only topple the mountain they’re relying on. I’ll say the unpleasant things first to Ancestor Jiang and Mister Wei. It’s better to savor the best part of the sugarcane last.”

The old man surnamed Wei smiled and said, “Is that all?”

Cui Chan smiled and asked in return, “Has Mister Wei perhaps compiled another book on military strategy?”

The implication was that if it was just the previous one, he, Cui Chan, had already thoroughly understood it, and there would be no need to flip through the pages on the Treasure Bottle 洲 battlefield.

Ancestor Jiang sighed, “In terms of sheer depth on paper, Tongye洲 isn’t bad either.”

The old man surnamed Wei next to him laughed, “They’re just missing an Embroidered Tiger.”

Unexpectedly, Cui Chan shook his head. “Human effort has its limits. Even if Tongye洲 had two Cui Chans, it wouldn’t be enough.”

The realm of cultivators, in times of peace and prosperity, could be very interesting, but not necessarily meaningful. When times of turmoil arrived, it would be very meaningful, but not necessarily interesting.

Ancestor Jiang asked, “I know very well that those Literary Lucks on this ‘Qi Jingchun’ are just smoke and mirrors from you, Embroidered Tiger. How did he manage to do it back then?”

Cui Chan remained silent for a long time, standing with his hands behind his back, leaning against the railing, looking towards the south. He suddenly laughed and replied, “I also want to ask the spring breeze, but the spring breeze has no words.”

The old man surnamed Wei’s expression became solemn. “If things continue like this, that Jia Sheng, who has been hiding his head and tail, will finally make a move for the first time in the open.”

Cui Chan’s figure vanished, his wandering soul about to return to the sky above the Capital of Companions, leaving only a smiling remark for the two old military strategist ancestors, “That banner at White Emperor City that says ‘Offering to the World First’ should have been taken down long ago.”

Cui Chan’s wandering soul returned to the sky above the Capital of Companions and merged with his true body.

Today, he wouldn’t preach or lecture. There was no one in the clouds above. Cui Chan raised a hand, suspending a seal that had once been shattered but was reconstructed by Cui Chan. Originally, the seal’s inscription was “The World Welcomes Spring.”

However, after being shattered by Cui Dongshan, only a solitary character “Spring” remained on the seal.

Lin Shouyi arrived from the Great Ditch Shrine outside the Capital of Companions, riding the wind. He was perhaps the only exception in the Great Li Dynasty today. Outsiders simply wouldn’t dare approach the cloud sea at this time. Lin Shouyi being able to temporarily serve as the Qi Ditch Temple Keeper already said a lot.

Lin Shouyi bowed and saluted, then sat upright on the cloud sea not far from National Preceptor Cui Chan and his Martial Uncle Embroidered Tiger, softly asking, “Martial Uncle, Mister?”

Cui Chan said a Buddhist phrase, “Though the flame is extinguished, the lamp remains.”

Although Qi Jingchun’s body was dead, without any doubt, his Great Dao had not dissipated. Operating a Confucian sage’s natal character “Stillness,” then using the Buddhist meditation methods, in the posture of a person without boundary, only preserving a wisp of spiritual light, residing in the “Spring” character seal, surviving until today, and ultimately placed within the Qi Ditch Shrine.

Lin Shouyi’s eyes filled with tears. “Mister had three natal characters?”

Cui Chan nodded. “Unprecedented and unparalleled.”

Cui Chan gently pushed the seal forward, unusually sentimental, and softly said, “Go then.”

Across the nine continents of the Vast Expanse, in the mountains, in the waters, in books, in people’s hearts, the spring breeze is everywhere in the world.
Nine gusts of majestic spring breeze first arose from a humble schoolhouse within the continent of Treasure Bottle, followed by similar breezes stirring across the remaining eight continents of the Great Realm. Silently, these winds converged from nine directions, ultimately culminating in Treasure Bottle Continent, swirling around the sleeves of a scholar clad in azure robes.

In the end, they coalesced into a single character of destiny: Spring.

A master of both the mortal realm and the immortal heavens.

Bai Ye, unparalleled in poetry.

The spring wind gathers, quieting Spring.

The immense dharma image vanished without a trace, replaced by a middle-aged Confucian scholar with frost at his temples, gazing towards a certain location in Tongye Continent.

His dharma image solidified into the character “Quietude.”

Crimson Consort unleashed a water-manipulating art no weaker than the previous flood that nearly drowned the Old Dragon City, smashing it towards the diminutive figure of the bookish man.

The scholar, with two fingers joined together, slashed downwards with the character “Gathering,” shattering the essential art of a great demon king upon its throne. With a casual flick of his sleeve, he scattered the bisected ocean waters even further.

Three characters of destiny, and a fourteenth realm cultivator.

This direct descendant of the Literary Sage lineage, who never gained fame through arcane arts, cultivation levels, or fighting prowess, completely disregarded the Crimson Consort. With spring winds swirling in his sleeves, the scholar laughed heartily and called out, “Where is Jia Sheng?!”