After Liu Xiangyang and Chen Ping'an stepped out of Clay Vase Alley, they found two groups of people standing to their left and right. A little girl sat astride the shoulders of a burly elder; a proud boy clad in a vivid red robe stood beside a poised and dignified woman.
As Liu Xiangyang walked past them, he remained calm and composed. To the white-haired elder, the youth bore some semblance of a general's bearing. In contrast, the cautious reserve that the straw-sandaled boy tried to conceal seemed wholly unremarkable.
After bidding farewell to the two, Lu Zhengchun remained in place with trembling hands, cautiously reporting, "Liu Xiangyang proposed that the honored immortals offer a suitable price. He'll part with his family heirloom next time, albeit with great reluctance."
The woman turned to the white-haired elder from Mount Zhengyang and smiled, asking, "What do you think, Elder Yuan?"
After a moment's contemplation, the elder replied in a deep voice, "Three times is the limit. Before that, as Liu Xiangyang suggested, grant him immense fortune. Mount Zhengyang shall bestow upon this youth the status of a true disciple. Additionally, I will privately lend him a magical artifact for a hundred years. As for your Xu family of Clearwind City—decide as you see fit."
The woman was visibly stunned. "The title of a true disciple of Mount Zhengyang is already a privilege beyond compare. And Elder Yuan still intends to gift him a magical artifact? Could this Liu boy be one of those prodigies missed by the porcelain buyer at the age of nine?"
The elder ignored the remark and merely smiled at the little girl. "Several shops in this town have mysterious origins. You may stroll about, Miss. Perhaps you'll come upon a hidden treasure."
The little girl gleefully shouted, "Giddy-up! Giddy-up!" The elder, Mount Zhengyang's chief consecrator, roared with laughter and began to jog, his massive frame moving like a mountain in motion.
The boy sneered, "Mount Zhengyang certainly knows how to show off."
The woman signaled for Lu Zhengchun to return home ahead of them, while she and her son walked leisurely down the street. She explained softly, "Besides the main path up the mountain, Mount Zhengyang possesses exclusive 'sword paths.' Over the ages, six such routes have been forged—each representing the rise of a sword immortal who attained true Dao."
The boy scoffed, "What use is an old almanac, no matter how thick? How long can one feast on past glory? Every cultivator who entered this town, including those who came after us—didn't they all descend from once-powerful clans?"
The woman smiled and held his hand. "But do you know that within the past century, two new sword paths are on the verge of reaching Mount Zhengyang's peak? That girl your age—her brilliance lies in how she can move freely atop the 'Sword Summit,' a place laced with ferocious sword qi. She lingers there longer than even the elders of Mount Zhengyang."
The boy paused, startled, then frowned with irritation. "If that silly girl has such a rare background, why didn't you tell me earlier? I wouldn't have antagonized her so much. Now she retorts at every turn. If I had known, I could have married her in a few years and formed a Dao bond. Wouldn't that bring great benefit to our Clearwind City?"
Looking at her son's still-youthful yet striking face, flushed with anger like a young tiger, the woman laughed instead of scolding him. "You and that girl are both rare cultivation talents, destined to ascend the Upper Five Realms. As such, the thread of fate between you is bound to be more tangled and unpredictable. Force it, and the outcome may prove disappointing. Do you truly think that girl despises you with all her heart?"
The boy frowned. "What else could it be?"
The woman replied gently, "Let things take their course."
The boy suddenly said with solemn seriousness, "Mother, I don't like the one walking behind Liu Xiangyang. From the very first glance, I disliked him."
She asked with interest, "Why is that?"
The child thought for a moment and answered, "He's... different. Not like Lu Zhengchun, who understands everything, nor like Liu Xiangyang, who understands nothing. And I particularly hate his eyes."
The woman assumed her son was merely being petulant and tried to soothe him, "You cannot do as you please within this small town. But think about this—after the heavens and earth collapse, what fate awaits all these people? Doesn't that thought bring you some comfort?"
The child nodded and unconsciously murmured the same word he'd used upon first seeing the straw-sandaled boy: "Ant."
Outside the town, Chen Ping'an and Liu Xiangyang soon came upon a covered bridge. Liu Xiangyang asked offhandedly, "Why do you think Song Jixin's father built this bridge? And not just build it—why cover up the old stone arch bridge beneath it? I heard they didn't even tear it down, just built over it like putting on a coat. I wonder if it gets hot in the summer, haha..."
He chuckled at his own jest.
At the entrance to the bridge hung a golden plaque with four massive characters: Winds Rise, Waters Stir.
As the two boys stepped onto the bridge, Liu Xiangyang stomped a few times on the steps and whispered mysteriously, "Old Yao once told me there's something odd under here. Said that when the bridge was being built, Song Jixin's father had men dig a giant pit in the dead of night and buried a person-tall porcelain jar. Spooky, huh?"
Chen Ping'an replied dryly, "What's there to be afraid of?"
As they entered the cool shade of the covered bridge, Liu Xiangyang lowered his voice again, "Maybe it has something to do with the deep pool beneath the bridge. A few people drowned there, so they had monks and Daoists perform rituals to ward off evil?"
Chen Ping'an never spoke recklessly about spirits or gods. Seeing he wouldn't get a response, Liu Xiangyang quickly lost interest.
This newly built wooden bridge still carried the faint scent of timber and fresh lacquer. Its main beams had been hewn from ancient, forbidden forests, making their transport out of the mountains nearly impossible. The small creek winding around the mountain was too shallow to float such heavy logs, so they waited for torrential rains. During those perilous days, the muddy roads were treacherous, and one misstep could mean falling into the floodwaters. Fortunately, not a single able-bodied villager perished.
People said it was thanks to Scholar Qi Jingchun himself, who came to personally guide the operation and teach the villagers step-by-step. His presence, they said, ensured everything went smoothly.
At the northern end of the bridge, Liu Xiangyang suddenly flopped down, sitting atop a massive slab of bluestone. Chen Ping'an had no choice but to crouch beside him.
Liu Xiangyang asked with a grin, "If it weren't for me, would you and Song Jixin have become close friends?"
Chen Ping'an shook his head. "Maybe a bit more familiar, but not much."
Liu Xiangyang tilted his head. "Why not? You two are neighbors and around the same age. Sure, Song Jixin is pretentious and has a sharp tongue, but it's not like he's committed any heinous crimes. And you've got such an easygoing temperament. What's the issue?"
Chen Ping'an smiled. "Let's not talk about that. When we get to the smithy, don't act like you don't care. Whether or not you keep your family's treasured armor depends on whether you can become Master Ruan's apprentice."
"Yeah, yeah, I know already. Honestly, Chen Ping'an, with how much you nag, someone might just die from the noise."
Liu Xiangyang leaned back, resting the back of his head on the highest step of the bridge. He stared up at the blue sky and mused, "You've walked far with Old Yao and climbed high peaks. So... just how far can you see from up there?"
Chen Ping'an plucked a stalk of licorice, dusted it off, and began chewing it. His words came out muffled, "The farthest was maybe two years ago. I went on a trip with Old Yao. We were gone for about ten days. We passed over more than ten sealed-off peaks before we reached one especially strange mountain—so tall it was terrifying. You might not believe me, but halfway up, everything was shrouded in clouds. Old Yao and I finally reached the summit, and then..."
Liu Xiangyang waited a long time but heard no continuation. He turned and laughed, "You sure know how to leave a guy hanging mid-shit..."