Chapter 153: Mind Realm

With a tap of his foot, the old scholar strode past 400 kilometers of river and mountain and gracefully landed at the location where Chen Ping'an had unleashed the sword strike just then. He started to slowly stroll around, and he raised his arm and bent his fingers as he knocked on the surrounding air. It looked as if he were randomly knocking on nonexistent doors.

However, there was no response, so the old scholar had no option but to put his arm down and say in exasperation, "This doesn't make sense! This kind of behavior is akin to setting up a tent in someone else's home. Forget about it, I'll just wait."

The old scholar patiently waited for the sword spirit to show herself. After waiting for a long time, he stood up on the spot to mull over a difficult question. He didn't appear impatient in the least.

A light ripple appeared in the air, after which a tall woman strode out from the faintly discernible void with Chen Ping'an in her hands.

The old scholar came to his senses, and he immediately said, "I admit defeat. Let's not fight anymore. In any case, it's already not important whether the remaining two sword strikes are launched, right?"

There was a hint of a smile on the sword spirit's face, and she asked, "Then how are we going to settle your two provocations toward me?"

"The same mistake shouldn't be made more than three times, right?" the old scholar said with a laugh.

The tall woman looked toward Tassel Mountain and asked, "Is he the new mountain god of Tassel Mountain? How long has he been in this position?"

"Exactly 6000 years," the old scholar replied. "In the 3000-odd years prior to that, the situation was a chaotic mess with gods being replaced left and right. All dignity was lost, and Eastern Mountain, Tassel Mountain, also had three different owners during that time. During the most chaotic period, Tassel Mountain was once viewed as a force that belonged to the demonic orthodoxy, having been overtaken by the enemies. That was truly a time when etiquette crumbled and chaos took charge.

"However, the current mountain god of Tassel Mountain has been able to maintain stability for 6000 years. Even though luck has played a part in this, the bigger reason is his terrifying power. His fist is powerful enough, and he's not afraid to challenge others either. As such, who isn't apprehensive of him?"

The sword spirit sneered and said, "Etiquette crumbling and chaos taking charge? Perhaps the three teachings were unhappy with the distribution of benefits? Or perhaps the Majestic World experienced a standoff between good and evil? What about the Etiquette Sage? With his temperament, how could he stand idly by?"

The old scholar sighed and replied, "It's a long story... Forget about it."

The tall woman clasped her hands behind her back and commented with an increasingly scornful expression, "With the situation already settled, they naturally had to have an internal conflict. Haha, so much for a battle between Great Dao and contention between the hundred schools of thought. It was indeed lively, but what was the result? Did the world truly become a better place?"

The old scholar shot a glance at the sword spirit, and his tone was extremely firm as he stated, "The Confucian Sect naturally can't be regarded as so limpid that one can see the bottom. Not everyone is a virtuous person or a noble person. However, our Confucian Sages have put their heart and soul into trying to make this a reality, and it's not an exaggeration to say that they worked their hearts out and went through infinite hardships. Thus, the fundamental core of Confucianism has always been upright and pure. You can't deny this with a simple remark."

"Is this the third time?" the sword spirit asked in an amused voice.

In stark contrast to his unserious nature just then, the old scholar was surprisingly unwilling to take a single backward step at this moment. His voice was calm as he said, "If you feel like this is incorrect, I can speak facts and reason and explain this to you for hundreds upon thousands of years. In the meantime, you're also free to use a sword to speak your own reason."

The tall woman carefully looked the skinny old scholar up and down. "Did you truly disperse your fortune as a sage and leave only your soul? Are you truly treating this world as a place to house your soul?"

The old scholar remained silent for a moment before answering, "That's correct."

The tall woman suppressed her spontaneous killing intent and said with a complicated expression, "After so many years, only the two of you have managed to do this. However, I'm very curious about your reason. Is it because you respect that person's choice? Or is it because you were left with no other option? The former is very unlikely. This pertains to the Great Dao, so I presume that those old men in the Confucian Sect won't allow you to succeed even if this isn't some kind of enjoyable assignment."

"To emulate those better than oneself is only natural and right," the old scholar replied calmly.

The tall woman pondered for a moment before taking a glance at Chen Ping'an and chuckling, "Not only was our goal achieved, but we even surpassed all expectations. Seeing that you made this choice, and more importantly for the sake of my master, let's save the two sword strikes for later, shall we? If I suddenly feel annoyed by you in the future, we can settle both new scores and old scores together."

The old scholar instantly broke out of his act, with the serious expression immediately vanishing from his face. He slapped his leg and chuckled, "Yes, yes, let's save it for later! Saving it for later is good! The mortals in the world all like to save things for later on new year's eve. They purposely leave some dishes unfinished for the next day, and this signifies that there'll always be enough to eat and use. This is a very good omen!"

The old scholar looked glad to have escaped alive no matter how one looked at him.

However, the sword spirit paid no heed to this, and she said in a cold voice, "Let us out."

The old scholar flicked his sleeve and strode forward, saying in a loud voice, "Head tilted back and laughing loudly, I leave through the door."

Chen Ping'an suddenly remembered something, and he asked in a quiet voice, "Was my sword strike very disappointing just then? That large mountain didn't seem to move at all. The old senior also said that my talent with the sword would be determined by how many characters I could retain. Even though I didn't want to accept them, the characters seemed to be unwilling to approach me as well. Does this mean that my talent with the sword will be as ordinary as my talent with my fists?"

Chen Ping'an became increasingly downcast, and he continued, "The old senior also said that if I dragged my feet, I would only be able to unleash a sword strike equivalent to the seventh tier or eighth tier even if I were given a cultivation base at the 10th tier."

Anyone could open their mouth to utter grand rhetoric and make rousing declarations. However, things in the world were difficult precisely because they had to be done one step at a time.

Chen Ping'an, the hillbilly from Clay Vase Alley, understood this principle far too well.

The sword spirit reached over to pinch the young boy's face. She smiled and replied, "You'll find out in the future."

Chen Ping'an's face flushed bright red. He wanted to say something, but he couldn't help but hesitate.

The sword spirit had already developed a mental link with Chen Ping'an since long ago, and she grabbed the young boy's hand and slowly walked toward the door that led out of the scroll. "I know, master. I definitely won't be so unrestrained in front of that young girl in the future, lest she misunderstand you and treat you as a disloyal person."

A bright smile spread across Chen Ping'an's face. There was relief, and there was also happiness at becoming close friends with the sword spirit.

The tall woman suddenly turned around and asked in a slightly sulky voice, "Aren't you afraid of Big Sister Immortal feeling upset?"

Chen Ping'an thought about this for a moment before replying earnestly, "I'll apologize to you if that's the case. However, I feel like some things should be like this."

Sadness filled her face, and it surprisingly looked like she was about to cry.

Even though Chen Ping'an was slightly flustered, his expression remained resolute as he tightly pursed his lips. He was unwilling to betray his conviction because of this.

The sword spirit suddenly burst into hearty laughter. She raised a thumb at Chen Ping'an and praised, "Handsomely done!"

"You're really not angry?" Chen Ping'an asked in a timid voice.

Still holding the young boy's hand, the sword spirit stopped when she arrived in front of the door. She suddenly bent down and hugged the young boy, with a warm smile beaming across her face. Her smile was dazzling, and it was as if she were experiencing the joy of sleeping in inside cozy blankets on a cold winter day. This was an indescribable happiness. She didn't care about Chen Ping'an's feelings at this moment, and she happily exclaimed, "Kyaaa~ My Little Ping'an is so friggin' adorable!"

The young boy instantly felt as if he had been struck by lightning. He froze to the spot, and his mind became completely blank.

Big Sister Immortal.

Immortal had simply been his first impression, and Big Sister was in fact how Chen Ping'an truly viewed the tall woman.

She finally let go of Chen Ping'an, and when she stood up and looked back, she saw that the elusive old scholar had returned to the scroll again. Standing with his back facing them, the old scholar coughed and said, "One should not look at that which is contrary to propriety. Don't worry, I didn't see anything and I didn't hear anything either. I simply forgot something just then, so I had to come back to retrieve it."

The tall woman was in an extremely good mood, so she couldn't be bothered caring about this.

Etiquette, morality, and karmic fate?

These extremely broad, extremely lofty, and extremely distant notions could never bind or restrict her.

On the path of the Great Dao, there had once existed a person who had possessed nothing other than the sword in his hand as he marched forward.

If anything stood in his path, he would hack it down with his sword.

If anything was unjust, he would deliver justice with his sword.

After slumbering for 10,000 years, the sword spirit finally found herself a new master.

Her two masters were as different as night and day.

However, she didn't feel disappointed.

If she had initially chosen Chen Ping'an — this thread of hope and this extremely small "if" — because of Qi Jingchun... then she would now refuse to listen to him even if he returned to life and told her that she was wrong and shouldn't have chosen this young boy. She wouldn't listen to him even if he uttered teachings and principles that were grander than the heavens.

She let go of Chen Ping'an and gestured for him to go first.

The young boy exited through the door.

Gazing at his shoulders which were still frail, the sword spirit followed closely behind him.

Everyone had a realm in their mind. Qi refiners referred to this as a Pill Room, while mortals referred to this as "the heart".

The mind's lake was only a part of this.

When standing above the lake in Chen Ping'an's mind back then, the sword spirit had seen a vast expanse of white. It was as clean as could be.

After a while, she had finally discovered something that was different from the surroundings. She had found the "true form of the mind's realm" that even the young boy wasn't aware of.

That was a lonely child who was only four or five years old. He was curled up on the ground with his arms around his knees, and he was sitting there all alone with no one to accompany him. Next to his feet was a pair of mini straw sandals. The little boy would often sit there in a daze just like that.

Beside the little boy was a small and unmarked burial mound.

Near this burial mound, there were another two mounds of earth that were even smaller in size. These mounds of earth were shaped like mountain peaks.

Whenever the little boy rested enough, he would put on his mini straw sandals and run to a distant place. There, he would collect a "small mountain" and carry it back to the unmarked grave. This was a strenuous task, and he would only be able to carry the "small mountain" a short distance at a time.

When carrying these "small mountains", the little boy would always have a small seal hanging from his waist and a small bamboo hat sitting on his head.

The small seal would swing back and forth with the little boy's footsteps.

Strangely, however, there wasn't a reflection of the young boy's ancestral home from Clay Vase Alley.

Perhaps in the young boy's mind, there was already no home for him to return to after his parents' death. Thus, he insisted on guarding that small burial mound instead.

His expression was stubborn, and he habitually furrowed his brows and pursed his lips.

However, the little boy would occasionally smile as well, and this was probably because he had experienced something that was truly worth being happy about. During these times, he would quietly talk to the small burial mound. His lips would move slightly, yet no sound would appear in his mind's realm. However, the sword spirit had a mental link with him, so she could naturally hear his silent words.

"Mother, I became acquainted with an immortal big sister. She looks a lot like you when she smiles."

Apart from the times when he carried small mountains "home", the little boy would almost never leave the small burial mound. From time to time, it would look like he was holding hands with someone as he walked a short distance south. It was as if he were holding hands with a little girl. However, the little boy would still silently turn around to look at the burial mound every few steps, clearly demonstrating his reluctance to walk too far away.

Even so, there was one kind of situation where the little boy would pump his legs and sprint very far away, with his little head raised and his eyes intently staring at the sky. It was as if he were chasing some person in the sky who had left and was heading to a distant place.

————

The old scholar had a solemn expression as he stood inside the scroll.

"Indigo is extracted from bluegrass but darker than bluegrass — this is still a possibility."

An old person nodded and replied, "Indeed."

He fell silent for a long time. When he discovered the entire world starting to tremble slightly, he said in exasperation, "You're so patient toward that young boy, so can't you be more patient toward me as well? Oh, that's right, you even know how to smile now! If the legends passed down by the ancient sword immortals are true, then won't those powerful immortals who were hacked to the brink of death by you stare their eyes out if they see you in your current form?"

The old scholar looked up at the sky of the small world, and it was as if his gaze were piercing through several layers of the heavens. He suddenly chuckled in a self-mocking manner and said, "Just as the heavens never run out of energy, so should we always strive to better ourselves[1]. What a brilliant saying. This will still hold true even after tens of thousands of years. No wonder our Confucian ancestors had to humbly acquire knowledge from you back then. By the looks of it, not only were we scholars slower in adopting the practice of speaking reason, but we're also far from reaching a state where we can fully expound it."

1. From Yi Jing. ☜