Under the veil of night, Chen Ping'an fled deep into the mountains, sprinting wildly until he stumbled into a bamboo grove where the earth was unusually soft. The straw-sandaled youth began to deliberately stamp his feet with greater weight. About half a stick of incense later, just as he reached the edge of the grove, he suddenly clambered up a bamboo stalk to his left. Swinging from one stalk to the next like a mountain ape—perhaps even more nimble than the apes of Mount Zhengyang—he repeated this feat several times before finally landing lightly on the ground. He crouched and wiped away his footprints, then turned his head; the first bamboo stalk was a full five or six zhang behind him. Only then did he resume his flight.
In less than the time it takes for a stick of incense to burn, the faint sound of a stream reached his ears. The youth, rather than slowing, leapt high and plunged into the water. A moment later, he stood upon a massive rock midstream. Familiar with every inch of this terrain, Chen Ping'an widened his eyes, relying on keen vision and an extraordinary memory to leap from stone to stone, fleeing downstream. If all went well, he would soon reach the back of the Blue Ox by the southern creek, then the covered bridge, and finally Master Ruan's smithy.
But he didn't head directly toward the Blue Ox. Instead, where the stream narrowed suddenly, as if cinched by a maiden's waist, he climbed ashore to the right. A soft voice called out from the darkness, "Chen Ping'an, over here."
He crouched quickly, panting heavily, and wiped the sweat from his brow. A girl in black whispered, "Did you really manage to lure the old ape up the mountain?"
He replied bitterly, "I did my best."
It was Ning Yao, who had taken a longer route from Fortunate Blessings Street to rendezvous here. She asked, "Are you hurt?"
He shook his head. "Just a scratch."
Her expression was a mix of emotions, her voice tinged with anger. "You're lucky that old beast didn't kill you. You must've been born under a lucky star."
Chen Ping'an grinned. "That damned beast already broke the rules once. But if you'd been a moment later, I'd have been done for."
She blinked, then broke into a smile. "So it really worked? Not bad, Chen Ping'an!"
He chuckled sheepishly.
Ning Yao rolled her eyes. "What now?"
Chen Ping'an paused to think. "We stick to the general plan we made before, but some of the details need to change. That old ape's too formidable."
She gave him a light smack on the head and laughed angrily. "You're only just realizing that?"
Then Chen Ping'an said, "Miss Ning, could you turn around? I need to apply some medicine to my back. And help me keep watch over the stream."
She turned without hesitation, facing upstream. Chen Ping'an removed the outer robe that once belonged to Liu Xianyang, took off his wooden porcelain armor, retrieved a ceramic bottle from a cloth pouch at his waist, and poured out a thick ointment. He spread it onto his palm, lifted his shirt, and applied it to his back. Though he had a high tolerance for pain, cold sweat still poured from his forehead.
Even without looking, Ning Yao asked, "Does it hurt?"
He laughed lightly. "It's nothing."
She pursed her lips. Such stubborn pride—what was the point?
——
At the westernmost edge of the town, a woman collapsed on the ground, wailing and beating her chest. Her thin garments clung to her as though they might burst apart at any moment. Her two filthy young children stood beside her, bewildered and silent. A simple, honest man squatted outside the house, sighing helplessly, his face filled with resignation. A strange hole had appeared in the roof. Though he could endure the lingering chill of spring, how would his wife and children survive?
Neighbors gathered nearby, pointing and gossiping. One claimed to have heard strange noises from their own rooftop earlier but had dismissed it as a stray cat. Another whispered that the western part of town had been unusually restless today. Some child had supposedly seen a white-robed immortal, gliding effortlessly with steps tenfold longer than a mortal's, scaling walls and flying across roofs. No one knew whether it was the Earth Deity abandoning his shrine or a mountain god descending from his peak.
A young sword cultivator from the Wind and Thunder Garden crouched alone, his expression grave. Earlier, Liu Baqiao had been chatting idly with Master Cui at the magistrate's office when he caught wind of the disturbance at the Li family estate. Following the scent of trouble like a shark to blood, the proud prodigy of Wind and Thunder Garden didn't dare confront the mountain-moving ape head-on. He merely hoped to observe from afar, and if the opportunity arose, strike a hidden blow to humiliate the beast.
He scaled a winged roof corner of a scholarly estate, overlooking the town, searching for signs of the ape. It didn't take long before he spotted abnormal movement in the western alley of Ni Ping. When the ape unleashed its aura, Liu Baqiao's natal flying sword, resting and recuperating within his spiritual palace, trembled violently, nearly breaking free of its scabbard.
In this strange realm, the greater one's cultivation, the stronger the suppression of Heaven's laws. By Liu Baqiao's estimation, even the guardian ape of Mount Zhengyang could not act without cost. Each time it forced its energy into motion, it risked triggering a catastrophic backlash—an explosive collapse of its own spiritual sea. Too many such transgressions could destroy even a millennium's worth of cultivation.
Moreover, every act of defiance against this world's rules was like a mortal shaving years off their lifespan. When Liu Baqiao saw the crater left by the ape's landing, two massive pits in the earth, he was glad he hadn't acted rashly. Had the beast not been distracted by the Li family's commotion and concerned for a young girl from Mount Zhengyang, it would have pursued the cunning straw-sandaled boy with uncertain success—but had it chosen to chase Liu Baqiao, the outcome would've been certain death.
Of course, the ape was neither blind nor foolish. The moment Liu Baqiao's flying sword stirred, the guardian had surely sensed his presence. Still, though Liu Baqiao had skirted the gates of death, he bore no true fear. Between Wind and Thunder Garden and Mount Zhengyang, enmity ran deep. Once blood was drawn, it would not end until one side was annihilated. No cultivator from either sect would ever beg for mercy.
And Liu Baqiao had more than one card up his sleeve here in this tiny town.
He rose slowly, not returning to the magistrate's office but heading instead toward the dilapidated cottage at the western edge. Standing outside its low, yellow clay wall, he called loudly. When both husband and wife turned to look, he tossed them a golden coin, chuckling, "Sister, please stop crying. I could hear your wails from miles away—it's haunting."
The woman caught the coin and glanced at its luster. It looked like a regular copper coin, only golden. She blinked in confusion and asked in a small voice, "Gold?"
Liu Baqiao laughed. "Not quite. But it's worth far more than gold."
She froze, then flew into a rage. Hurling the coin at him, she leapt to her feet and cursed, "Get lost! If it were gold, I might believe you. But worth more than gold? You think I've never seen money before?! I've touched real silver with these hands! You little bastard, still wet behind the ears—how dare you act like some grand master in my house! My man's not even dead yet!"
Then, in a fury, she stormed over and kicked the silent man still crouched on the ground. Her waist, broad as a water barrel, twisted with surprising grace as she delivered a solid kick that knocked him sideways…