A story is like a jar of aged wine, once the seal is broken, it must be drunk dry.

This jar of old wine, this trifling matter, had been brewing in Chen Ping’an’s belly for many years. Once opened, it would release its aroma to the right person. And Chen Ping’an would only encounter the right person to share a drink with.

Lu Tai was the one he shared a drink with.

Even with those Chen Ping’an liked, respected, and felt close to – Ning Yao, Ah Liang, Liu Xianyang, Gu Can, Daoist Zhang Shanfeng – Chen Ping’an had never mentioned this matter.

Sadly, after hearing the story, Lu Tai didn’t seem to be greatly moved. Instead, he teased Chen Ping’an, “You’re telling me this, are you implying that a man like me, who goes against the grain, will come to a bad end, and won’t even have a grave to mark my resting place?”

Chen Ping’an chuckled, and had no choice but to jump down from the railing and return to the first floor.

For some reason, after chatting with Lu Tai, recounting this old, stale tale, Chen Ping’an felt much more at ease, as if a knot in his heart had been untied.

The sword practice that afternoon was the same avalanche style, but it felt less rigid and more fluid.

After that day, Lu Tai changed his attire. His hair was adorned with a jade hairpin, he wore a cyan robe, and held a yellow bamboo folding fan. He transformed from a ravishing beauty into a handsome young master, which relieved Chen Ping’an greatly. So even though Lu Tai occasionally went to the first floor, either casually browsing his collection of books or brewing a pot of tea to watch him practice swordsmanship seriously, Chen Ping’an said nothing.

And Lu Tai lived up to his reputation as the most knowledgeable Yin-Yang scholar. He told Chen Ping’an many things he had never heard before, such as the differences between internal and external fist stances, and the intent and spirit behind sword stances. He also talked about the precautions and suggestions for refining the fourth realm. He explained how a pure martial artist should temper his three souls after entering the Qi Refining realm. There were many subtleties involved. The three souls of the human body – the Vital Soul (Tai Guang) being the Yang Qi of the Supreme Clarity (Taiqing). For martial artists, it was best to temper this soul during sunrise, when the morning glow was resplendent. Persistent practice of fist techniques with sincerity might lead to a fortunate encounter, making the Vital Soul stronger and more vibrant.

When Lu Tai mentioned this, Chen Ping’an felt quite ashamed and guilty.

At the Sun Clan’s ancestral home in Old Dragon City, when he broke through the third realm, a golden dragon had surged down from the sea of morning clouds, but he had repelled it with his fists, not just once, but twice.

Lu Tai was kneeling by the window at the time, wearing his scholar’s attire with a tall crown and wide sleeves, displaying the elegance of a scholar. He was drinking tea brewed with the essence of the Azure Lake’s famous spring water. With his keen mind, he immediately sensed something amiss. He probed Chen Ping’an, and since it involved martial arts cultivation, Chen Ping’an revealed everything. Lu Tai spat out a mouthful of tea on the spot, gave Chen Ping’an a thumbs up, and said that Chen Ping’an’s teachers of talisman and fist techniques must be uninhibited and unconventional people.

Chen Ping’an asked if there was a way to remedy the situation. Lu Tai thought for a moment, took a sip of tea, and said that on Tongye Continent, he might find some luck by visiting the Martial Saint Temples where deities still patrolled the mortal realm. Historically, many astonishingly talented martial artists had stumbled upon great opportunities in Martial Saint Temples by sheer luck. Speaking of this, Lu Tai sighed, saying that before he left home to travel, his master had told him about a young martial artist from the Great End Dynasty. His talent and aptitude were so shocking that several deities from the Martial Saint Temples had taken the initiative to offer him martial fortune. But that guy was even more outrageous than Chen Ping’an, and he had actually repelled those well-intentioned deities with his fists.

Chen Ping’an guessed that it was most likely Cao Ci, who was living in seclusion on the Sword Qi Great Wall.

Lu Tai mentioned it casually, both as a warning to Chen Ping’an and as a self-reflection, saying that whether one was a pure martial artist or a cultivator on the mountains,

On the path to the Great Dao, luck was important, but the ability to seize it was even more important. Fortune and misfortune were intertwined, and there were countless examples of geniuses who died young, and this was the reason.

Chen Ping’an agreed wholeheartedly.

But Lu Tai immediately changed the subject, saying that Chen Ping’an was too reclusive, afraid of all troubles, and never actively pursued opportunities, only thinking about avoiding them, which was not good.

Lu Tai’s “complaint” stemmed not only from Chen Ping’an’s initial reluctance to interact with him, but also from the fact that the Treasure Swallowing Whale had recently opened the entrance restriction to the fourth broken blessed land, allowing passengers to enter and explore. As long as a passenger paid one Grain Rain Coin, they could enter and train, and the ferry would not take anything from their gains. However, if someone was willing to convert their gains into Snowflake Coins for sale on the spot, the Treasure Swallowing Whale would of course welcome it.

This Treasure Swallowing Whale belonged exclusively to the Five Weapons Sect of Gold Armor Continent. The secret realm contained remnants of ancient spells and was extremely difficult and costly to open. After obtaining this secret realm, the Five Weapons Sect, according to the usual practice, hoarded it for a full hundred years, only to find that it was not worth the effort. So the Five Weapons Sect simply opened this blessed land, named “Ascension to Immortality Realm,” to the public, like the Pearl Cave Heaven of Treasure Bottle Continent, charging only a toll.

The Ascension to Immortality Realm had a vast territory of a thousand miles in circumference. Even though it was only a fragmented land, its size was comparable to the entire Pearl Cave Heaven. Being ranked among the seventy-two blessed lands, its expanse was indeed far greater than the thirty-six cave heavens.

This secret realm was opened once every ten years, and only Qi Refiners below the Golden Core and Nascent Soul stages could enter. However, there were no restrictions for pure martial artists. Two hundred years ago, a lucky person from Floating Leaf Continent, who was only a cave dwelling realm cultivator, obtained a powerful semi-immortal weapon. Perhaps feeling that he couldn’t hold onto the Divine General Halberd and that it wasn’t suitable for him, he sold it to the Five Weapons Sect and became rich overnight. After that, relying on his wealth, he forcibly used money to elevate himself to the Golden Core realm. Exchanging one Grain Rain Coin for a Golden Core cultivation, who wouldn’t envy him?

This matter caused a sensation in Gold Armor Continent, and for a time, the number of Qi Refiners flocking to the Ascension to Immortality Realm was like a river of crucian carp. In the early days, one needed very strong connections to even get in line, and it was no longer a matter of one Grain Rain Coin. After three hundred years of comings and goings, with various fortunes and treasures appearing in the meantime, but none as extravagant as the semi-immortal weapon, the search for the Ascension to Immortality Realm gradually became less popular, but it was still considered a worthwhile place to visit.

Of course, Lu Tai knew that this kind of “opening success” was most likely the work of a marketing expert guiding the Five Weapons Sect.

It was the same as that rouge that was popular in several continents, a joint effort to scam people.
But Lu Tai knew the ins and outs, the true and false, the shallowness and depth of the Dengzhen Immortal Realm like the back of his hand. His master had once said that if he were so inclined and had the leisure, he might as well take a trip there and see if he could scavenge some worthless trinkets.

Why was Lu Tai riding the Treasure-Swallowing Whale this time?

Of course, the most important things were the auspicious divination and the Daoyuan opportunity, but entering the Dengzhen Immortal Realm was also a windfall that Lu Tai was determined to obtain.

Lu Tai had originally earnestly invited Chen Pingan to enter the Dengzhen Immortal Realm together, seeking out immortals, immortal realms, and opportunities for magical treasures. But in the end, even if Chen Pingan agreed to lend Lu Tai another Grain Rain coin, he still insisted on not gambling his luck.

Lu Tai had no choice but to enter alone, and after two weeks, he left the Dengzhen Immortal Realm covered in dust. That same day, he returned three Grain Rain coins to Chen Pingan, with the extra one being called interest. After hearing Lu Tai’s account of his travels and huge gains, Chen Pingan accepted it with a clear conscience. It turned out that Lu Tai had relied on his family’s Yin-Yang techniques to break the restrictions of an ancient immortal mansion, and had nearly become the master of that ancient blessed land, with only minor incidents. However, due to the rules established by the Five Arms Sect, he had voluntarily given up control of the blessed land and secretly traded with the Five Arms Sect for Grain Rain coins, a large pile of them. Because the Five Arms Sect’s intercontinental trade required Lesser Heat coins and Grain Rain coins in many places, the Five Arms Sect temporarily bought from Lu Tai on credit, promising to repay the full amount within half a year, with an additional bonus.

Don’t think that the Five Arms Sect was losing out; in fact, it wasn’t. After the originally dispensable immortal mansion was successfully opened by Lu Tai, it became suitable for cultivation due to its abundant spiritual energy. The Treasure-Swallowing Whale’s honored guests, such as Golden Core and Nascent Soul cultivators, those earth immortals high above the world in the eyes of mortals, would be willing to reside there, providing a steady stream of income. The Five Arms Sect wouldn’t lose out at all. For merchants making money, exorbitant profits were certainly good, but this kind of stable “money vein” was the foundation for a long and lasting existence.

Lu Tai became the third luckiest person in the history of the Dengzhen Secret Realm to achieve such a harvest.

In addition, Lu Tai obtained an ancient ascension technique and a superior magic treasure called the “Ao Mountain Illusionary Pavilion” from the immortal mansion.

Lu Tai did not sell either of these opportunities.

But even though Lu Tai had clearly proven that Chen Pingan had missed out on a great fortune, Chen Pingan didn’t have much emotional fluctuation. He simply placed the Grain Rain coin he had earned on the table, and occasionally, when he was tired of reading, he would flip the Grain Rain coin with his finger, letting it roll back and forth on the back of his hand. For Chen Pingan, this was a good way to relieve fatigue, with immediate effect.

This made Lu Tai very depressed.

He said many well-intentioned words, but Chen Pingan remained unmoved.

Therefore, Lu Tai never invited Chen Pingan to share his tea. Of course, Chen Pingan probably had no such desire himself.

Lu Tai was a true connoisseur, not deliberately, but because he was born into a thousand-year-old noble family, and moreover, a family of immortals, incomparable to ordinary human clans. Therefore, Lu Tai’s temperament was naturally formed, both gifted with spiritual beauty and nurtured by environment.

The tea for tea duels had to be new. The techniques and tea sets had to be ancient. The spring water for brewing tea had to be clear and heavy. The tea drinkers had to be pure and spiritual.

The longer Lu Tai spent with Chen Pingan, the more he felt that Chen Pingan was too rigid. He was pure enough, but not spiritual enough.

He would still be wasting his good tea.

Just like today, Lu Tai took the opportunity to bring up this heartbreaking matter of “money raining down from the sky like a torrential downpour, but you, Chen Pingan, went to hide under the eaves.” Chen Pingan remained silent.

Lu Tai felt that he really couldn’t awaken this stubborn blockhead, and was probably about to give up trying to persuade Chen Pingan. So he casually said a grandiose and empty sentence. But the world is so unpredictable that Chen Pingan not only listened to it, but also took it extremely seriously.

“Chen Pingan, your heart is very still when you practice your fists and swords. That’s where you’re great. But you have to be careful, a still heart isn’t a dead heart. A state of mind as calm as still water should not become a stagnant pool.”

Lu Tai said this casually, and even he himself felt that it was just some empty talk.

But Chen Pingan actually stopped the boring sword stances he had been repeating for the first time. He sat down in front of him, mimicking Lu Tai’s kneeling posture for drinking tea. It was awkward, a world apart from Lu Tai’s free and easy elegance, like a farmer in the fields trying to imitate a learned scholar, just shaking his head and pretending.

Seeing Chen Pingan in this posture, Lu Tai found it quite amusing. Lu, a young talent from the Central Earth Divine Continent, known as the unrivaled tea duelist, glanced sideways at the uncomfortable Chen Pingan, finding it all the more interesting. Naturally, Chen Pingan became even more constrained when he saw him like that.

Chen Pingan still yearned for true scholars.

Because there was Mr. Qi, Li Xisheng, and even the City God of Colorful Clothes Country, Shen Wen. Even Zhang Shanfeng’s impromptu poetry would make Chen Pingan yearn for it.

Chen Pingan overcame his discomfort and asked, “Are you saying that my temperament has gone to extremes?”

Lu Tai was stunned. With his extreme intelligence, he didn’t gloss over it or dare to make a hasty judgment.

If it were anyone else, Lu Tai could just make something up or say something noncommittal.

But not today.

The two sat facing each other, Chen Pingan with a serious expression. Lu Tai smiled wryly in his heart, feeling like he had painted himself into a corner.

But Lu Tai had a flash of inspiration, feeling somewhat dazed. Was it coming so soon? He had thought that only after setting foot on the land of Tongye Continent, traveling together through various trials and tribulations, would the seeds of this opportunity appear. He never expected it to happen so suddenly. Lu Tai steadied his mind, began to hold his breath and concentrate, and solemnly handed Chen Pingan a bowl of tea. “Sip it slowly. After you’ve finished drinking, I’ll share my thoughts.”

Chen Pingan didn’t know the proper etiquette and just took it as an ordinary question-and-answer session to seek guidance. He nodded, took the bowl of tea, and took a small sip.

After the disturbance on Cinnamon Flower Island, Chen Pingan met the old boatman who had admired Lady Cinnamon for hundreds of years, the first boatman of Cinnamon Flower Island, and the only servant of Lu Chen before his ascension, traveling the four corners of the world together. At that time, Chen Pingan had a strange dream, entering a book and “reading all night.” In the small world created by the old boatman at the ferry, he had a conversation with the old boatman, to the point that the boatman actually said, “Don’t ruin my great Dao.”

At that time, Chen Pingan was roughly talking about the two ends of a ruler.

He believed that the boatman’s reasoning had gone to extremes, seemingly reasonable, but actually unreasonable.

Because it wasn’t perfect, not as good as the “Doctrine of the Mean” described in the book.

And the root of Taoism was the four words “Dao follows nature.”
Therefore, Chen Ping’an vaguely remembered someone saying, during that dreamlike reading experience, that the principles of Confucianism were never about loftiness or reaching some unattainable height, but rather about whether those principles were grounded in reality and truly practiced.

That person even chuckled and said, “Our Confucian sage and teacher’s knowledge was immeasurably profound, yet even he, after inquiring about the Way once, privately lamented to a disciple, even feeling a touch of shame, saying that someone’s Way was truly lofty, but…”

Unfortunately, Chen Ping’an couldn’t recall anything after that “but…” not even a single word. It was possible that the person or the book simply didn’t elaborate.

Chen Ping’an’s inquiry today was certainly not to seek enlightenment from Lu Tai; he wasn’t thinking that deeply.

Chen Ping’an, since he began practicing martial arts, and especially after delving into books…

Had he truly never considered his future?

Of course, he had. He had a sixty-year pact with the sword spirit, the immortal fairy, and now a ten-year agreement with Ning Yao.

Chen Ping’an’s recent “travels and explorations” had even transformed from the initial pursuit of “my punch must be the fastest” to “this punch can be faster, but it must be the most righteous.”

One of Chen Ping’an’s most significant statements, perhaps unnoticed by those who heard it at the time, was what he said to the pink-skirted girl and the blue-robed boy at an inn on his return journey: “If I do anything wrong, you must tell me.”

Regardless of how many punches the old man in the bamboo building of Fallen Mountain landed on his body and soul afterward, Chen Ping’an, deep down, was always questioning himself.

But this was a necessary step forward.

And his previous state of mind, or rather, his ethereal true nature, Chen Ping’an had inadvertently revealed with a thoughtless remark on Upside-Down Mountain, to Ning Yao’s parents.

That signified that Chen Ping’an had been constantly negating himself.

“It’s because I haven’t done well enough.”

Not doing well enough was equivalent to being wrong.

How many people in this world would be so self-critical?

But this mindset wasn’t formed without reason. It was a result of his natal porcelain shattering, and the subsequent hardships and fortuitous encounters that forced Chen Ping’an to piece together a complete state of mind—an unintentional yet inevitable act.

If successful, it would coalesce into a spectacle like the sun and moon in the sky, dimming the stars.

If it failed, it would likely lead to broken promises and countless disappointments.

A person will starve to death without food, but if the garden of the heart dries up, one will also seek death, only without realizing it. If not today, then in years to come.

Desperately seeking life, rising up in adversity, striving upwards…

Yet also quietly seeking death, indulging in excess, lacking restraint, succumbing to emotions and desires—such are the strange contradictions of the human heart.

The complexity of the human heart is something that even sages and immortals dare not claim to fully understand.

Cui Chan’s defeat in the small town was a prime example.

Following this inner journey, Chen Ping’an’s state of mind became clear. Almost causing Liu Xianyang’s death was his, Chen Ping’an’s, fault, so he would accept death. He would finish explaining his reasoning, even if the other party didn’t want to hear it, and be done with it.

Even with the death of the effeminate man from the Dragon Kiln, Chen Ping’an still felt he was “wrong” simply because he hadn’t agreed to accept the rouge box from the man.

When a person truly begins to understand the world,

Having seen towering mountains that pierce the clouds, rivers that wind endlessly, having witnessed the elegance of scholars, the symbols of a nation’s authority—government offices and official robes—having seen the impermanence of life, birth, aging, sickness, and death, having seen the seemingly glorious but actually cold-blooded iron cavalry formations, a person at a certain moment will often suddenly feel insignificant.

This feeling is perhaps loneliness.

It’s hard to truly share sadness, and the sharing of joy is fleeting. Life is just a series of farewells…

Chen Ping’an was actually filled with trepidation towards this world.

Liu Xianyang, Li Baoping, and Gu Can would not be like Chen Ping’an.

Gu Can would wholeheartedly focus on revenge.

Li Baoping would feel that there were always interesting things in the world, immersing herself in her rich and colorful inner world, rarely questioning herself, and even less readily negating herself.

That’s why she could say, “How could anyone not like Little Martial Uncle Li Baoping?”

Liu Xianyang would say from the bottom of his heart, “I want to see higher mountains and bigger rivers! I definitely don’t want to die of old age in this small place!”

But Chen Ping’an wouldn’t. He might do many things, such as taking Li Baoping and the others to Great Sui, but Chen Ping’an’s state of mind, his inner world, would hide away.

Chen Ping’an’s thoughts and ideas were largely “immobile.”

Having fired pottery in the Dragon Kiln for years, the youth had been striving for steady hands, which was actually a stubborn pursuit of a stable mind.

If his mind wasn’t stable, he would resent Song Jixin’s wealth and envy his having someone to rely on, and his ability to read.

This was the root cause of why Ruan Qiong, even without prejudice against Chen Ping’an, never regarded Chen Ping’an as one of his own kind, and was unwilling to accept him as a disciple.

This was also why Lu Tai felt that Chen Ping’an lacked灵气 (ling qi), spiritual energy.

Therefore, the sword spirit’s initial impression of the youth’s mind was that of a young child guarding a grave and a mountain, and his straw sandals.

The only “movement” was chasing after someone’s figure towards the south.

That figure was none other than Ning Yao, departing on her sword.

So, Chen Ping’an’s subsequent choice to gift the sword to the girl he loved, compared to his trepidation and walking on eggshells on the journey to Great Sui, finally had an element of autonomous will.

“I want to embark on this journey through the world.”

I, Chen Ping’an, want to do something for myself.

So, even though he envied Li Er of Old Dragon City, and even though a heavier burden rested on Chen Ping’an’s shoulders after arriving at the Sword Qi Great Wall, Chen Ping’an’s state of mind was actually more relaxed than before.

So, Chen Ping’an exchanged his straw sandals for a long robe, wanting to become a sword immortal, and one who could engrave his name on the Sword Qi Great Wall.

From only daring to buy five mountain peaks and then quickly renting out three of them, wanting to give all his possessions to Liu Xianyang, who was leaving his hometown, and giving almost half of his top-grade serpent gallstones to the pink-skirted girl and the blue-robed boy around the New Year… From someone who thought, “Since I can’t keep it, I’ll quickly give it to those I care about,” to the Chen Ping’an of today, it was a world of difference.

All of this was hard-earned.

The reason why the old scholar Wen Sheng patted Chen Ping’an’s head after getting drunk, saying that the young man needed to…

Was because the old man saw through the youth’s mental state problem at a glance.
A youth should not be like this; when stillness reaches its peak, movement arises. One should cast aside burdens and freely indulge in the beautiful pursuits befitting a young man.

However, the way of the world is such that hearing, knowing, and understanding a principle are one thing, while putting it into practice is quite another.

Transforming the wisdom found in books into tangible reality is a feat of immense difficulty.

Chen Ping’an sipped his tea, and before Lu Tai could reveal his answer, Chen Ping’an suddenly spoke, “Even if I’m not familiar with you, even if I have to lend you money repeatedly, I still wouldn’t want to associate with you, let alone ascend to the True Immortal Realm. It’s quite simple, actually, because I’m afraid of death.”

In his hometown, facing Cai Jinjian, Fu Nanhua, and the Mountain-Moving Ape in succession, Chen Ping’an felt as if he had already died once.

The incident in the Flood Dragon Trench was the second time.

Things should not happen more than three times.

Chen Ping’an slowly set down his now empty teacup and smiled, “Whether you believe it or not, I’ve never been able to hold onto good fortune that relies on luck.”

Chen Ping’an continued, “I was just thinking, and I realized that perhaps I was right before, but if I still think the same way now, then I’m wrong. If I want to go further in my future cultivation, I need to slowly correct myself.”

Lu Tai’s expression was strange, even somewhat grave.

He had been secretly using a mind-reading divine ability, a closely guarded secret of the Lu Clan, to peer into Chen Ping’an’s inner world.

Chen Ping’an picked up his teacup. “Could I have another bowl?”

Lu Tai retorted, “Do you think this is wine?”

But he still refilled Chen Ping’an’s cup.

Chen Ping’an continued, “But I don’t think it’s wrong to not go to the True Immortal Realm with you. Maybe if I went with you, I’d ruin your chances of making money. As it is, you’ve made a fortune, and I’ve earned three Grain Rain coins. That’s quite good.”

Lu Tai himself had long since stopped drinking tea. He placed his hands on his knees and chuckled, “Two of those are from me, so you’ve only actually earned one.”

Chen Ping’an hesitated for a moment, then spoke candidly, “I think it’s three.”

Lu Tai was rendered speechless, unsure whether to laugh or cry.

Did this guy not even consider the possibility that he would repay the money?

Chen Ping’an sipped the tea, whose intricacies he certainly couldn’t discern, and softly said, “One must leave some room for error. Missed opportunities are missed opportunities, and one cannot seek perfection and total gain in everything. Lu Tai, what do you think?”

Lu Tai was taken aback, then burst into laughter, “Chen Ping’an, you’re actually dodging that ‘one’!”

Chen Ping’an, still drinking his tea, looked utterly bewildered.

Lu Tai’s face immediately turned indignant. He leaned forward, snatched the teacup from Chen Ping’an’s hand, casually waved his sleeve to collect all the tea utensils, stood up in a huff, and glared at Chen Ping’an. “On the Terrace of Ascending Sun, contemplating the Dao, who exactly is contemplating the Dao? Who was granted a fief with the falling of the tung tree leaves? You know everything! My little enfeoffment is nothing! I’ve been completely had!”

Lu Tai stomped off up the stairs, the sound echoing loudly.

Chen Ping’an scratched his head in confusion, feeling utterly lost.

For a long time afterward, Chen Ping’an had a rough time. Lu Tai switched back to his female attire, dressed in a flamboyant manner, and deliberately acted coquettishly, coming to the first floor every day just to disgust Chen Ping’an.

Even with his good temper, Chen Ping’an couldn’t stand the overwhelming perfume, the effeminate hand gestures, and the nauseating winks and delicate affectations. So, one morning, as Lu Tai sat on the railing humming a tune, Chen Ping’an punched him, sending him tumbling into Azurewater Lake.

Lu Tai, dripping wet and furious as he emerged from the water, barely managed to resist using his natal flying swords, Needlepoint and Wheatawn, to stab Chen Ping’an to death. In the end, he refrained from attacking, but he did unleash a torrent of curses at Chen Ping’an, asking if that’s how he treated his half-mentor and whether Chen Ping’an had any conscience at all.

However, when mentioning the word “mentor,” Lu Tai clearly lacked confidence, but when scolding Chen Ping’an for being heartless, he was filled with righteous indignation.

After that, Lu Tai stopped paying any attention to Chen Ping’an.

Time flowed by like a gentle stream, and as the Treasure-Swallowing Whale reached the ferry of the Fuju Sect on Tung Leaf Continent, it was dawn. Chen Ping’an went to the third floor to remind Lu Tai that it was time to disembark.

But the room was already empty.

Chen Ping’an didn’t think much of it. *What an eccentric fellow,* he mused.

He disembarked from the Treasure-Swallowing Whale and stepped onto the soil of the Tung Leaf Continent alone.

Chen Ping’an walked onto the ferry and stomped his foot.

It was like the first time he had walked from Mud Bottle Lane onto Fortune Street, from a muddy path to cobblestone streets, filled with a sense of novelty.

Without Lu Tai by his side, Chen Ping’an felt rather good, though he knew he was being ungrateful to the fellow.

Just as Chen Ping’an’s steps were light and brisk, he saw a familiar figure near the bustling shops of the ferry. Chen Ping’an’s face instantly contorted.

Lu Tai, having changed into a blue robe, jade belt, and hair adorned with a hairpin, was squatting by the side of the street, munching on a meat bun. Upon seeing Chen Ping’an, he glanced at the stray dog squatting beside him, gazing expectantly at Lu Tai.

Lu Tai then tossed the meat bun in his hand to the dog.

Lu Tai even raised his eyebrows at Chen Ping’an.

Chen Ping’an walked over, and Lu Tai continued to munch on the thin-skinned, filling-rich meat bun, shaking his head in a way that was incredibly infuriating.

Chen Ping’an first bent down to pat the dog’s head, and then delivered a swift kick to Lu Tai.