After Ruan Xiu ran back to the blacksmith shop, she found only her father sitting alone under the eaves on a bamboo chair. She handed over the jug of wine, then sat down on another chair. "Dad, you're done talking?"
Ruan Qiong opened the wine jug. Without drinking, just sniffing it, he felt a headache coming on. It was indeed Spring Peach Blossom liquor, but this was hardly the premium kind worth two taels of silver—it was clearly the cheapest variety, only eight mace per jug. From the corner of his eye, Ruan Qiong caught his daughter looking guilty, twisting the hem of her clothes, her gaze darting about, clearly afraid he would expose her. Ruan Qiong sighed inwardly and pretended to notice nothing. He took a long swig of the wine—truly a belly full of frustration. The man said slowly, "The meeting's done, went reasonably well. I'll send someone to the kiln superintendent's office to get the old and new topographic maps from that Great Li official named Wu Yuan. I expect Chen Ping'an will come asking for them once he recovers."
Ruan Xiu breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. "Oh." She stretched her legs out straight side by side, luxuriously stretching in the smooth, cool bamboo chair.
Ruan Qiong thought that since he was about to establish himself here—every beginning is hard, but the omen was good—his mood improved somewhat. He even said a rare good word about Chen Ping'an. "That kid from Clay Bottle Lane—his personality may be simple, but he's not stupid."
Ruan Xiu smiled happily. "Dad, that's called 'great wisdom appearing foolish.' Get it?"
Ruan Qiong chuckled without comment.
The man only thought to himself, What the hell do I know about great wisdom appearing foolish.
Ruan Qiong gazed at the distant stream, gripping the wine jug's neck with two fingers, gently shaking it. "Some things, Dad can't tell him directly, lest he overthink and make mistakes. When you see him tomorrow, you tell him."
Ruan Xiu asked curiously, "What is it?"
Ruan Qiong was silent for a moment, lifted the jug and took a small sip of the strong liquor. Then he said, "Just tell him not to even dream about Dragon Ridge Mountain. Even some Upper Five Realm cultivators without backing might not dare ask for it. Such a massive dragon-slaying platform—Wind Snow Temple and True Martial Mountain spent considerable effort to secure it, and with Dad's current status, we barely managed to take it. And there are still plenty of people secretly jealous, grinding their teeth behind the scenes. Of course, you don't need to explain all these details to Chen Ping'an. Just tell him plainly: don't worry about Dragon Ridge Mountain. Second, the Great Li court is selling mountains at low prices this time. There are only about sixty in total—Chen Ping'an can buy at most five peaks. Any more, and I'll find it hard to protect him and his mountains. Third, Dad has just decided to claim three mountains centered on Shenxiu Mountain from Great Li. When you have Chen Ping'an look at the topographic map, tell him to pay attention to the peaks around Shenxiu Mountain, Tiaodeng Mountain, and Hengshuo Peak. Dad isn't unreasonable—I won't ask him to spend all his money buying nearby. Just half his gold essence copper coins will do. On second thought, if he's truly clever, buying more peaks to surround the two mountains and one peak that are Dad's would be the right path. Finally, you can also tell him—if he can save a few coins, buy a few shops in the town. I expect many good shops will be changing hands soon, since many town families with outside connections will likely move away. So the prices definitely won't be high—maybe one coin at most."
Ruan Xiu试探性asked, "Dad, how about you buy the New Year's gift shop for me? Those two bags of copper coins you took from me—give me back just one, just one. How about it?"
Ruan Qiong smiled mirthlessly. "Don't even think about the coins Dad has saved. I advise you to give up immediately. Oh, you could have Chen Ping'an pay—he's the real tycoon in our town now."
Ruan Xiu said without hesitation, "How can I? He's so poor he has to borrow just a dozen taels of silver."
Ruan Qiong's mouth twitched. He couldn't help turning around. "Oh? So Dad's money isn't money, but Chen Ping'an's is?"
Ruan Xiu grinned. "We're not that close, you know."
Ruan Qiong nearly spat out a mouthful of blood. Not that close? Not close enough for you to make your own father drink this swill while pocketing the difference, just to lend money to that bastard? Daughter, just how close do you need to be? Ruan Qiong took a狠狠gulp of the mediocre liquor and stood up. "Anyway, Dad has said what needs to be said. Pick your words and tell Chen Ping'an tomorrow."
The man strode away. Of course, even using his rear to think, he knew that what should be said and what shouldn't, his daughter would say it all tomorrow.
The more Ruan Qiong thought about it, the more frustrated he became. His daughter, he couldn't scold. That little brat digging at the foundation with his tiny pickaxe, he couldn't beat. The man could only mutter a curse under his breath and strolled to an empty clearing where no one was around. He tossed away the empty jug—terrible as it was, he'd drunk it all—then shot into the sky. In the blink of an eye, he landed at the entrance of the town's Spring Peach Blossom liquor shop. The shop was, of course, closed for the night. He knocked hard. Soon, a woman sleepily got up from the back room to open the door, cursing all the while—"Rushing to die and be reborn?" "Drinking in the middle of the night, why not just drink piss? At least that's free." "Daring to knock on a widow's door at night? Don't you fear I'll break three of your legs?"—showing no courtesy whatsoever.
Ruan Qiong stood at the door, face dark, saying nothing.
When the woman saw it was Master Ruan from the blacksmith shop, she studied his taut, muscular arms under the moonlight and instantly changed her expression. Eyes flirting, she热情ly grabbed his arm—truly hard as iron. A woman long parched for rain smiled even more eagerly, and while leading the way, she stumbled as if falling into his arms. Unfortunately, the iron-forging man was no romantic. He gently steadied her by the shoulder, left some silver, grabbed two jugs of wine, and strode away.
The woman stood at the door, face full of mockery, calling out, "Such a fine, strapping man, but just like your name—soft! Master Ruan—oh no, Ruan Master—next time you buy wine from my shop, I'm charging double! But if one day Master Ruan's backbone stiffens, maybe I won't charge a single copper. Free wine, free bed."
Ruan Qiong walked expressionlessly to the end of the street, then flashed away—not returning to the shop south of town, but heading north, to a small hill.
It was entirely broken porcelain, piled into a mountain.
Ruan Qiong found a spot about thirty paces away from the porcelain hill and sat cross-legged.
A voice spoke nearby. "What a coincidence—you're here too."
Ruan Qiong nodded and tossed over a jug of wine.
The old man caught it, weighed it, and tsked. "Going to Widow Liu's shop at this hour to buy wine—any man would get the short end of the stick."
Ruan Qiong didn't want to discuss that. Instead he asked, "Old Master Yang, who exactly is that youth beside the new superintendent Wu Yuan? I can't gauge his depth. On the surface, he seems no different from ordinary folk."
The old man was indeed Old Yang from the Yang family shop. He took a sip of wine. "His identity is unknown. But as the old saying goes, those who come bear no goodwill, and the goodwill don't come—right?"
After saying this, Old Yang smiled and looked upward.
Atop the porcelain hill stood a youth in green robes, hands tucked in his sleeves, a mole between his brows, a smile like spring breeze.
The youth withdrew one hand from his sleeve and waved. "When entering a house, greet the people first. When entering a temple, bow to the gods first. I know the rules—I've paid respects to Master Ruan, and now I've come to pay respects to Old Master Yang. My manners are beyond reproach."
Old Yang stopped drinking. Somehow finding a length of rope, he tied the wine jug to his waist, took a puff of his dry tobacco, and smiled. "Entering mountains and marshes, drawing talismans for protection. But I wonder—are those the scrawling talismans of ghosts, or the talismans of immortals?"
The youth retracted his hand, leaned forward slightly, and said with a smile, "No matter what Old Master Yang and Master Ruan may think, I guarantee that after this visit, we'll have no further dealings. Hmm, if there is any, it would only be the City God Pavilion's construction—I'm temporarily in charge, so we might have minor contact. But as for the Wenchang Pavilion or Martial Sage Temple, that's not my concern. I only manage a tiny City God Pavilion."
According to common saying, within a county's borders, the magistrate had full authority over all worldly affairs. The towering clay City God statue, however, was responsible for watching over nighttime and spirit matters.
Master Ruan frowned. Was he a ritualist from the Ministry of Rites, or a cultivator from the Imperial Observatory?
But regardless of whether his origins were in the Ministry of Rites, the Imperial Observatory, or somewhere within the Great Li imperial palace—the fact that he dared stand so brazenly atop the porcelain hill meant he was at minimum a Tenth Floor cultivator at the peak of the middle five realms.
So this "youth" was certainly no youth.
The handsome cultivator with the cinnabar-like mole between his brows looked at Old Yang. "Old Master, a word of caution—a careful ship sails ten thousand years."
Old Yang took a deep puff of his dry tobacco, but only exhaled an extremely thin wisp of smoke, which quickly dissipated soundlessly into heaven and earth.
The cultivator resembling a handsome youth kept his hands in his sleeves, though the cuffs shifted slightly—his fingers seemed to be forming seals.
Ruan Qiong sighed heavily. "For my sake, let the two of you stand down. Otherwise, if the three of us brawl, would we really destroy everything within a thousand li?"
The youth immediately pulled both hands from his sleeves and raised them high, highly suspect of opportunism. He grinned, "No problem from my end."
Old Yang inhaled through his nose, and two faint wisps of blue-purple smoke swiftly flew into the old man's nostrils.
The old man sneered, "You know quite a lot."
The youth pinched his nose. "Not too much, not too little—just right. For instance, I know I should call you Master Qing... Grand Master, not some 'Old Master Yang.'"
The youth deliberately omitted a word.
It wasn't a joke or for amusement. At the moment that word was about to leave his lips, he had genuinely felt the old man's killing intent—resolute and decisive. So he chose to retreat a step.
The youth leaned back and fell away, laughing. "Farewell, then. Hopefully we won't meet again. Whether it's the wide road, the narrow bridge, or the gates of hell—we each go our own way, each showing our own abilities."
The green-robed youth vanished from sight.
Ruan Qiong said gravely, "He could be in the Upper Five Realms!"
Old Yang scoffed, "Making a fuss over nothing. Aren't you, Ruan Qiong, also Upper Five? The East Treasure Bottle Continent may be small, but it's still one of the nine continents. Never mind the eleventh or twelfth floors—even thirteenth-floor cultivators aren't impossible."
Ruan Qiong didn't feel at ease. He shook his head. "I've only just entered the eleventh floor, and my realm isn't stable yet. Though I come from the martial family and am skilled in combat and killing arts, still..."
The old man shook his head as he left, holding his pipe, puffing clouds. "Be content. Of the countless millions of cultivators in the world, tenth-floor cultivators are already rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns, let alone the Upper Five. In truth, while you're wary of that person, he's equally wary of you. Porcelain crashing into jade—neither of you has confidence."
Ruan Qiong considered this. Not the type to dwell on things, he decided not to worry about the strange youth's origins. It was best if they stayed out of each other's way. Harmony brings wealth.
With a thunderous boom, Ruan Qiong shot into the sky. After reaching the sea of clouds, he plummeted toward the stream.
The slowly meandering Old Yang chuckled as he made his way back to the town. "So young and fiery."
---
A green-robed youth walked through the town's alleys, muttering, "Night curfew—check. Night watchmen—check. Marketplaces—check. Everything needs rebuilding. Our county magistrate has his work cut out for him."
The handsome youth with the mole between his brows twirled a ring of old keys between his fingers as he entered a lane called Second Son's Lane, which bordered Apricot Blossom Lane. Legend had it that two remarkable figures had once lived here in generations past, but who exactly they were and what they had done—no one could say. Over time, it became just another mysterious tale told by the old folks beneath the great pagoda tree.
Now that the old pagoda tree had fallen, the town's vitality seemed to diminish overnight. The children didn't feel it deeply; the young people actually found the view more open with the extra open space—quite nice. Only nostalgic old folks occasionally sighed with longing. Neither Second Son's Lane nor Apricot Blossom Lane housed truly wealthy families, but they were better off than most—certainly more than the residents near Clay Bottle Lane, who mostly kept their heads down when encountering people from these two lanes. Old Granny Ma and her grandson Ma Kuxuan lived in Apricot Blossom Lane, considered well-off by town standards.
The youth stopped before a residence. Two freshly painted door gods adorned the front gate. The youth looked up at one—a silver-armored door god holding a short halberd, one leg raised in a golden rooster stance, eyes blazing with fury. The youth smiled. "Returning home in glory—nothing beats this."
The youth pushed open the gate and entered a small but精致 residence. Above, a square skylight opened to the sky. Below, a stone basin held water. The ventilation was excellent, and on the second floor, a beauty's lean offered a perfect spot for stargazing in summer and snow-watching in winter. The youth was very pleased, murmuring, "Not bad, not bad—a fine place for cultivating body and spirit."
The youth dragged a carved wooden chair to the water basin, shook his sleeves, and with a clatter, a mountain of broken porcelain shards tumbled out—ranging from fist-sized to rice-grain-small, countless in number. They filled the space above the water basin beneath the skylight, hovering in midair.
This was a true display of a universe within one's sleeve.
The youth looked left and right, rubbed the space between his brows, and murmured to himself, "Where to start?"
"You'll do." He finally selected a date-red shard that caught his eye. With a slight mental command, it flew out from the pile and hovered silently a foot in front of him.
Afterward, more broken porcelain continued to fly from the porcelain hill, arriving before the youth, then being gently placed somewhere by him.
It was as if he were assembling a piece of porcelain.
---
The next day at the blacksmith shop, Ruan Xiu handed Chen Ping'an two maps—one old, its paper yellowed, showing undulating mountain ranges but with peaks labeled only as "Alpha-1," "Bravo-3," and so on. The new map, still fragrant with fresh ink, added names like Dragon Ridge Mountain, Pearl Mountain, and Shenxiu Mountain, less tedious and bland. At the bottom, it also bore the label "Great Li—Dragon Spring County."
Ruan Xiu pointed to the place and mountain names, explaining each one to Chen Ping'an. Finally she warned, "Though the two maps show only nail-sized shifts in position, once you enter the mountains, you'll find it could mean a difference of several li of mountain trails. After the Dragon Spring Grotto-Heaven fell to Great Li's ground, the surface tremors were enormous—some mountains with weak foundations actually collapsed and crumbled on the spot. This will create many unexpected obstacles on your path. You must be careful."
Chen Ping'an carefully put away both maps. He shouldered a backpack basket, similar to when he had taken the Chen couple into the mountains before. Apologetically he said to Ruan Xiu, "This time I'm aiming to reach the Tiaodeng Mountain and Hengshuo Peak area on the map. I expect to be gone at minimum half a month, at most a month, before returning here."
Ruan Xiu said softly, "That long? How will you have enough to eat?"
Chen Ping'an suppressed a laugh. "I'm used to living in the mountains. I can eat and find wild game and mountain fruits—I guarantee I won't go hungry."
Ruan Xiu nodded and smiled. "The dozen taels my father agreed to lend you—after you come back from the mountains, I'll definitely have it for you."
Chen Ping'an considered, then decided to be honest. "Miss Ruan, don't put yourself out. I can figure out the money on my own. You can't really go half a month without eating pastries from the New Year's gift shop, can you?"
Ruan Xiu's face flushed red. She couldn't figure out how he knew the truth.
Chen Ping'an felt helpless and smiled without speaking. He thought, With Master Ruan's terrible temper, him agreeing to lend money would be the strangest thing ever. So it's not that I'm perceptive—it's that your cover-up really wasn't very good, Miss Ruan.
Seeing her look dejected, he quickly comforted her. "Miss Ruan, I appreciate your kindness. Thank you."
Ruan Xiu pursed her lips and smiled.
She suddenly said, "I'll walk you out."
Chen Ping'an was already striding away. He turned back and waved. "No need—I know the way like the back of my hand. I could walk it with my eyes closed."
The ponytailed girl said a soft "Oh" and waved goodbye.
After leaving the Ruan family shop, Chen Ping'an sprinted upstream along the stream.
The mountains near the town didn't interest him. Though small and inexpensive, he didn't want to buy here—too close to town. Drawing attention wouldn't be wise. Besides, Master Ruan had hinted that the peaks in the area, including "Earth Truth Mountain" and "Distant Curtain Peak," once had good foundations but had been hollowed out over the years. They were just pretty shells. He needed to keep heading west until Pearl Mountain, where things improved.
Chen Ping'an walked for a full day and night, resting less than two hours in total, before finally climbing to the summit of a small hill. He took a deep breath, his lungs filling with the fresh scent of wild grass and trees.
The straw-sandaled youth puffed out his chest, stamped his foot, and declared with heroic spirit, "This is mine!"