Chapter 63: So That's How It Is

The rain had softened to a drizzle in the small street. Ning Yao turned to look at Chen Ping An, whose breathing was steady and demeanor calm. Although she didn't personally like old man Yang, she had to admit he was a true recluse.

"Old man Yang is no simple man."

Ning Yao paused for a moment, turning her gaze towards the unremarkable Yang's Apothecary. The gentle rain caressed the street, softening the contours of the apothecary in a hazy mist. The girl subtly amended her statement, "Old man Yang is far from simple."

Chen Ping An didn't notice the distinction, simply humming in agreement. "I used to think Grandpa Yang was just a good and fair man. Now I know he's a hidden master. Ning girl, he must be a cultivator, right?"

Ning Yao replied with a phrase Chen Ping An didn't understand. "Somewhat, but not quite. It makes no difference to you either way."

Now at the southern end of the covered bridge, Chen Ping An, who had narrowly escaped death, looked at the green-robed girl with a newfound appreciation.

Hearing footsteps, the girl named Ruan Xiu stood up with a shy smile. Seeing the straw-sandaled boy and the green-robed girl standing side by side, the girl with the ponytail looked a bit uneasy. Chen Ping An no longer dared to view Ruan Xiu as an ordinary girl. Of course, the image that still stuck in his mind the most was her reputation for spending all her money on snacks.

Ruan Xiu glanced at Ning Yao, who was aloof and strikingly beautiful. She didn't dare greet her.

Ning Yao also glanced at the petite and comely girl, but wasn't keen on exchanging pleasantries.

The three walked down the steps of the covered bridge. Chen Ping An said softly, "I heard from Mister Qi that Liu Xianyang is alright."

Ruan Xiu nodded vigorously. "He's awake, he's awake! The apothecary at Yang's said it was a mercy from the King of Hell, sparing Liu Xianyang's life. The old apothecary also said that as long as he woke up, he'd be fine. I was worried you'd be anxious, so I wanted to tell you right away, but my dad wouldn't let me cross the covered bridge..."

The girl chattered like a sparrow on a branch, chirping away. In the end, she seemed apologetic.

The girl didn't say everything. After Liu Xianyang woke up, she had rushed out the door to the covered bridge, focusing only on telling the boy the news. She had completely forgotten her father's warning against entering the small town. Just as she was about to run down the north end of the bridge steps, her elusive father grabbed her by the ear and dragged her back. After much pleading, she convinced her father to let her sit on the south end of the steps to wait for him.

This wasn't puppy love or romantic affection, but rather a genuine act of kindness.

Of course, it also helped that Chen Ping An didn't repel her. On the contrary, she harbored a certain admiration, or perhaps an acknowledgement, of Chen Ping An.

It all started when they first met on the ox's back. The boy was willing to go into the water to catch fish for others, and even after his left hand ached from the wound, he didn't regret it. Later, when Liu Xianyang encountered misfortune, the boy was willing to stand up and take responsibility for what he should. All these deeds accumulated into merit for Chen Ping An.

It was all due to Chen Ping An's persistent good deeds, only that they had caught Ruan Xiu's attention. In truth, Chen Ping An had missed even more opportunities, like the golden carp in the fish basket, the loach he gave to Gu Can, the four-legged snake, the falling locust leaves, and all the fortuitous events that slipped through his fingers, never to be grasped by the boy, even though he cherished good fortune.

As Chen Ping An, Ning Yao, and Ruan Xiu walked down the covered bridge, none of them noticed the droplets of water, each different in size, quietly falling into the stream.

These droplets had clung to the eaves of the bridge, gathered on the railings, or collected in the puddles on the outer edges of the bridge's path. In the end, they all fell into the stream, merging with the water.

At the same time, the courtyard of Yang's Apothecary, filled with puddles and small pools, rippled and returned to its muddy appearance, like any ordinary backyard. Standing above the water was a vague figure wreathed in smoke, a stooped old woman with an indistinct face.

Old man Yang wasn't surprised, and lit his pipe, asking, "What did you see?"

The figure swayed "with the water" like a water plant, croaking in a hoarse voice, "That little girl, she's the only daughter of our next Sage. How could she favor a boy from the slums?"

Old man Yang chuckled. "That's it?"

The old woman in the water trembled, no longer daring to speak.

The old man said slowly, "Now that you've reached this point, there are some rules I should explain to you, so that you don't die without knowing why, feeling wronged."

The old man seemed to be contemplating secrets, not in a hurry to speak.

After the rain, the water in the courtyard gradually subsided, and the old woman's figure became more and more blurred. She pleaded piteously, "Great Immortal, I just want to see my grandson a few more times."

Interrupted in his thoughts, old man Yang was a little impatient. "What you think is your business. I don't care about that."

Speaking to himself as if reminiscing, "Consider yourself lucky. If you had fallen into the hands of the Three Teachings, you wouldn't even be given a next life, how would you be like this. Buddhism has a saying of subduing the unruly heart-monkey. The thought and the vow are very important. Confucianism is better, it doesn't manage so widely, but earnestly and earnestly teaches, advising disciples to pay attention to being cautious when alone, which means to not say one thing and think another. Taoism has elevated the importance of 'how to think', not hesitating to regard the inner demon as a great enemy of cultivation, even stricter than Buddhism, therefore, many people go astray and end up with the so-called unorthodox practices. Because Taoism pursues purity, focusing on self-examination, once entangled by those questions left by the Taoist patriarchs, they will become anxious and confused..."

The old man puffing on his pipe was like a hidden dragon in the sea of clouds. The old woman listened as if falling into a fog. After all, she was a native of this place, and had not read books, so she naturally did not understand these mysterious and mysterious academic principles. She could only bite the bullet and memorize them.

Old man Yang suddenly laughed: "You don't need to remember these, because we don't care about that."

The old woman was stunned.

Old man Yang repeated, "We don't care what you think, we only care about what you do."

The old woman said anxiously, "Great Immortal, I remember."Old Yang tugged at the corner of his mouth and said, "Since you're a River Matron, you must be responsible for all affairs within the river. This is not only to accumulate yin virtue for yourself, but also to win the faith and incense of the people who live by the water. If you can get people to build shrines and sculpt golden statues for you, allowing a wisp of your spirit to reside within, then that's your skill. After that, you must strive to be accepted by the imperial court and included in the official register of mountains and rivers within the nation, gaining an officially recognized status. If you can't achieve that, you must at least be recorded in the local county chronicles. But if the shrines dedicated to you are eventually deemed licentious and eradicated by the government, your golden statue toppled, then your life will be worse than that of a wandering ghost."

The old woman mustered her courage and asked, "Great Immortal, as you said earlier, everything here is strictly forbidden. What can a mere River Matron like me do, other than cling to life? The shrines, incense, mountain and river registers, and local chronicles you spoke of..."

Old Yang said, "That was before. It's hard to say about the future. In the future, this place will be downgraded from a small blessed grotto to a lesser blessed land without any threshold, where anyone can come without having to pay those three bags of copper coins. This is also the root cause of why the Emperor of Great Li is so unscrupulous. Doing certain things sixty years earlier or sixty years later can lead to completely different results."

The old woman bit her lip and asked, "Great Immortal, the reason you're willing to protect me, is it because of my grandson?"

Old Yang nodded, not hiding his initial motive.

The old woman asked again, "Since that's the case, why did you allow the True Martial Mountain's strategist faction to take away my Ma Ku Xuan? Why not nurture him yourself?"

It turned out that this old woman who had transformed into a River Matron was none other than Granny Ma of Apricot Blossom Lane, who had been slapped to death.

Old Yang lightly tapped his tobacco pipe. The watery figure formed by the old woman's soul suddenly twisted and wailed endlessly.

This sudden, unprovoked pain was like that of a mortal suddenly suffering excruciating agony. How could the old woman bear it?

Old Yang said calmly, "Although in my eyes, there is no good or bad, no right or wrong, and I don't use these to measure yin virtue, that doesn't mean I approve of your actions. I didn't want to argue with you before, but from now on, I can obliterate you with a single thought, so don't overreach."

The old woman knelt on the ground, begging for mercy, "Great Immortal, I dare not, I dare not!"

The True Martial Mountain sword cultivator had paid a great price to summon the True God surnamed Yin. When facing the impolite questioning of young Ma Ku Xuan, even the strategist sword cultivator had been apprehensive, fearing arousing the wrath of heaven. Why, in the end, did the True God Yin seriously reply to the boy, even answering with the words, "Not that I wouldn't, but truly I cannot?"

This was not the kind of question and answer that should exist between a man and a god.

However, this anomaly was likely lost even on the sword cultivator, whose status was already extraordinary. He probably assumed that the True God had his own unknown rules and considerations. But the old man in the small courtyard knew the truth.

That young boy was the one favored by destiny.

No less than the maidservant Zhi Gui.

Wang Zhu, Wang Zhu.

Combined, they form the character "珠" (zhū), meaning pearl.

For a true dragon, what is the most precious thing?

Why did she choose to attach herself to the Great Li prince, Song Ji Xin?

Emperors in the world have always liked to call themselves true dragons. One's personal fortune can be linked to the dynasty's fate. Clearly, the two can be considered a strong alliance, complementing each other.

But then again, cultivation is a long and arduous path. Fortune, talent, aptitude, opportunity, and temperament are all indispensable. However, on the path of cultivation, there is both early advantage and late blooming. So, nothing is absolute.

In this generation of the small town, besides Ma Ku Xuan and Zhi Gui, Song Ji Xin, Zhao Yao, Gu Can, Ruan Xiu, Liu Xian Yang, and all the other children with their own opportunities and fates, can all be called the pride of heaven.

Even the unfathomable Old Yang dared not say whose achievements would definitely surpass whom.

Old Yang glanced at the water accumulated in the courtyard and said, "Go, you only need to keep an eye on the movements on the covered bridge for now."

The old woman said in fear, "Great Immortal, even I can't get close to the covered bridge, especially that deep pool. Every time I get near, it feels like being boiled in a pot of oil..."

Old Yang smiled, "You don't need to get close. Just keep your eyes on the covered bridge. For example, if anything flies out from under the covered bridge in the future, just watch where it goes."

The old woman quickly obeyed and left.

The misty figure of the old woman instantly vanished from the surface of the accumulated water in the courtyard.

"Master, Master!"

Zheng Da Feng shouted happily from the back door of Yang's shop, rushing to deliver good news.

The two came to the backyard one after the other. Zheng Da Feng in front was walking on air, "Senior Brother is back! Great news!"

Old Yang looked at the honest man behind Zheng Da Feng. The latter nodded.

But the man hesitated, filled with questions, but being simple and inarticulate, he didn't know how to ask.

In the end, the man just said in a muffled voice, "Master, why did you accept Ma Ku Xuan as a disciple instead of that young boy? I don't like the kid surnamed Ma."

Old Yang glared, "So you took it upon yourself to grab that golden carp and sell it to Chen Ping An?!"

Compared to Zheng Da Feng, who was restrained in front of the old man, the middle-aged man had much more backbone. He sat down on the stool that Chen Ping An had previously sat on, "So what? I wanted to. Don't you like that kid too, Master?"

If Chen Ping An were here, he would be shocked, because the middle-aged man selling fish that he met on the street was none other than this man.

Old Yang said angrily, "And the result? The fish basket and the golden carp ended up in Chen Ping An's hands?! Huh?!"

The man sulked and didn't say anything.

Zheng Da Feng added fuel to the fire from the side, "Senior Brother, it's not me talking, but you wasted your Dragon King Basket! Giving it to the little prince of Great Sui, Great Li's mortal enemy! Be careful of Song Changjing settling accounts with you later! Besides, charity begins at home. You could have left it for my nephews and nieces! What, Senior Brother, did you think it was a hot potato? If you really didn't want it, you could have given it to me."

Old Yang threw a cold look over, and Zheng Da Feng fell silent, not daring to say another word. He raised his hands and sat obediently on the steps.

The old man said, "Take Fu Nan Hua and go to Old Dragon City together."

Zheng Da Feng looked surprised and turned his head, only to see the old man's expressionless, weathered face.The grizzled gatekeeper of the small town slowly retracted his gaze. He patted his knees, a bitter smile gracing his lips, and rose without a word. He descended the steps, heading towards the back door of the shop.

From behind, the old man's voice, imbued with authority, echoed, "Remember, even in death, you must not reveal your origins!"

Zheng Dafeng's bitter smile deepened. He nodded without turning back, quickening his pace.

Reaching the corridor behind the main hall, the man turned and knelt, offering three resounding kowtows. In a deep voice, he said, "Master, take care of your health."

From beginning to end, the old man remained silent.

Zheng Dafeng departed from the Yang family's shop, his spirit downcast.

Sitting on a stool, the man Li Er, felt indignant on behalf of his fellow disciple, Zheng Dafeng. "Master, you're being too harsh on Junior Brother..."

The old man chuckled, "Unfeeling, am I?"

The man nodded. "Although Junior Brother is often unruly, he genuinely cares for you from the bottom of his heart. To be honest, I can't compare to him in that regard."

The old man remained noncommittal. "He's rootless driftwood anyway, not even as worthy as roadside weeds. Dying anywhere is the same as dying nowhere."

The man sighed. "Junior Brother will surely leave the town with a heavy heart."

"Generally speaking, to ensure the continuation of a lineage, three disciples are needed. One who can 'greatly utilize' – someone capable of glorifying the sect. After the master's death, they can shoulder the burden and maintain the sect's standing, both in terms of reputation and substance. Another who can 'continue the incense' – seemingly less capable than the former, but possesses resilience. Even if the 'useful' disciple dies, this person can ensure the sect's continuation. Their importance is not apparent during prosperous times, but they become crucial when the sect faces decline. Lastly, one must be 'interesting' – blessed with talent, exceptional bone structure, and everything else. They don't even need to be particularly grateful to the master or the sect. The master won't impose strict rules on such a disciple. As the saying goes, teaching a disciple starves the master. This last disciple embodies that."

The man asked curiously, "So, me, Junior Brother, and Ma Ku Xuan, which category do we each fall into?"

Old Man Yang chuckled. "After all these years, who said you were my only three disciples?"

The man paused, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "I forgot about that."

Old Man Yang smiled and asked, "What about Song Changjing?"

The man pondered for a moment, before simply uttering, "Not bad."

Old Man Yang puffed on his pipe, marveling, "That means he's incredibly formidable."

The man started, "Song Changjing agreed..."

Before his disciple could finish, Old Man Yang stamped his foot, and the world fell silent.

The man chuckled, "Master, we haven't exactly been discreet with our actions over the years. Why bother being so concerned now?"

Old Man Yang slowly replied, "Not even putting on a show? Are you plotting a rebellion?"

The man retorted, "Do I have the resources?"

Old Man Yang looked up at the sky, his gaze piercing through layers of heaven and earth. The old man remained silent.

The man's mood grew heavy. "Master, are my two sons really going to that Cliffside Academy?"

Old Man Yang said, "Since Qi Jingchun is willing to offer it as an exchange, why not go? Such an opportunity is, without exaggeration, once in a century."

Old Man Yang asked, "Why didn't Qi Jingchun just give them directly to Chen Ping'an?"

Old Man Yang chuckled, "Do you think that would be helping Chen Ping'an? It would be akin to wishing that boy a quicker death. Do you believe that if you had successfully sent the Dragon King Basket and Golden Carp, Chen Ping'an would have certainly died violently somewhere in the town within three days?"

The man asked with puzzlement, "Chen Ping'an's innate porcelain was shattered by his father before he turned six, thus removing any restraints. Although this prevents the child from retaining any great opportunities, it's both a bad thing and a good thing. He's like a lamp in a dark room, attracting so many moths to the flame. During this time, wouldn't it be normal for the pitiful child to acquire something?"

Old Man Yang explained, "As long as he's in this town, Chen Ping'an won't have any good fortune. The opportunities are too great for the child to handle and retain. He's destined to live a life of poverty with nothing. It's already remarkable that he's alive. Any so-called prodigies would have died seven or eight times over."

The man grinned. "So, that's why you're willing to help him, right? What you can offer is the only thing Chen Ping'an can accept."

Old Man Yang hesitated, then exhaled a thick cloud of smoke. "But do you know that your attempt to give Chen Ping'an that opportunity almost killed him? The Sui Dynasty Prince and the eunuch, Ning Yao, the assassin, that strange Daoist... Chen Ping'an almost died because of that chain of events."

The man frowned.

Old Man Yang changed the subject. "In the past, the saints responsible for guarding this region of the world would usually do two things upon assuming their position. The first was to inspect the four ancestral talismans used for suppression. The second was to come here and greet me. But even among these saints, the vast majority only knew the 'what' but not the 'why'. There are also two types of people who wouldn't come here. The first type was during the early years when the Buddhist forces in Eastern Treasure Continent were flourishing, with many bald monks. These people didn't dare to come, fearing karmic entanglement. The other type is like Qi Jingchun. The higher-ups deliberately didn't tell him the truth, hoping that Qi Jingchun would clash with me and start a fight. The reason Qi Jingchun came today is that he figured out something, or..."

The old man's expression turned solemn. "That possibility is too small, and the consequences are too great, unimaginable. I hope it's not, and... it shouldn't be."

Within this small world, there existed a different realm altogether.

Qi Jingchun was in charge of one area, while Old Man Yang seemed to have carved out his own domain, showing no signs of being subordinate to anyone.

Old Man Yang lamented, "One of the Confucian saints before Qi Jingchun's teacher said, 'Sages exhaust their eyesight, using rulers and compasses, to establish squares and circles, flatness and straightness.' What does that mean? Simply put, it means that you common folk should be grateful for the great benevolence and virtue of the most honored teacher. He spent a great amount of effort, exhausting his eyesight, to establish these rules and frameworks, so that future generations can walk within them without encountering disasters and calamities, and have the opportunity to be reborn as humans in the next life."

The man scratched his head. "Why are you telling me all this, Master? I don't understand any of it. Zheng Dafeng would be the one to talk to you about this."

Old Man Yang chuckled. "If you, Li Er, could understand, I wouldn't have started this conversation in the first place. One speaks, one listens, one asks, one answers, just right."Old Yang stood up and gazed into the distance. "If one day, that kid can walk out of this town alive, and after wandering outside for decades, he'll be amazed at how vast his hometown actually was."

His master stood up, and the burly man had no choice but to follow. Although he wasn't one for flattery, he knew the rules.

Old Yang said, "Don't stay here either. Take that shrew of yours and go somewhere else. You'll never have a chance to break through your current realm in Dongbao Continent. Song Changjing is petty. If he suppresses your cultivation in the future, you might not mind, but it disgusts me, your master. Oh right, if you really can't bear to leave your son or daughter, you can take one with you. It just means you'll get a little less of Qi Jingchun's legacy."

The burly man asked, "Master, what if my wife insists on taking both kids?"

Old Yang raged, "Who's in charge in your family?!"

The burly man replied with a perfectly natural expression, "Her, of course!"

The old man took a deep breath and waved him away. "Get out, get out, all four of you! Do whatever you want!"

As the burly man walked down the steps, he suddenly turned his head and asked, "What about you, Master?"

The old man sat back down on the bench and reached into his pocket for his pipe tobacco, only to find it empty. He withdrew his hand, his face calm as he said, "What else can I do? Just wait for death."

The burly man walked to the eaves and inexplicably turned his head to smile. "I don't think Ma Kuxuan can take that thing away."

The old man's face was ashen, and he mocked himself, "If he can't take it away, then truly no one can."

The four great families and ten clans of the town suddenly received news that all outsiders had to evacuate the town within three days. The Lvzhu Grotto Heaven was temporarily only allowing people to leave, not enter.

Although resentment filled the air, no one questioned the decision in the end.

Among those leaving eastward, the Li family ancestor personally came forward to secretly escort the young patriarch of Righteous Sun Mountain away.

The next day, a series of booming sounds, like the earth turning over, echoed from a distant place west of the town, shaking heaven and earth.

It turned out that the Righteous Sun Mountain's Mountain-Moving Ape was truly uprooting a massive mountain peak.

The old ape, revealing his true form of a thousand zhang, was about to carry it on his back.

Suddenly, the old ape's shoulder tilted sharply, as if a heavy object was pressing down on it. The old ape raised his head and squinted.

On the mountain peak on its shoulder, there was a "tiny" figure.

Qi Jingchun.

The old ape laughed loudly. "Qi Jingchun! Don't be so petty and ruin the big picture!"

Qi Jingchun said in a deep voice, "Put Mount Piyun back."

The old ape raised its shoulder, roared angrily, and said wildly, "What if I don't?!"

The next moment, the Mountain-Moving Ape suddenly released its hands from the base of the mountain peak and rolled to the side, its massive body crushing countless trees nearby.

The next moment, the thousand-zhang giant ape was trampled into the ground by a foot.

That person was truly towering, his head supporting the sky. Compared to him, the Mountain-Moving Ape seemed like an ant under his feet.

Another foot, crushing the struggling old ape deeper into the ground.

Another foot.

The thousand-zhang old ape collapsed in the pit, covered in blood, on the verge of death.

The person bent over, as if his head was holding up the sky, and looked down at the Mountain-Moving Ape, sneering, "If it were the me of sixty years ago, the first thing I would do after leaving is to level Righteous Sun Mountain with one foot!"