Chapter 427 (2): Life Isn’t a Fictional Story

A middle-aged man arrived on the outskirts of Bamboo Scroll Lake, entering a bustling and prosperous city called Pond Water City.

The man rented a horse-drawn carriage, and the carriage driver was a talkative old man who had traveled to many places in his lifetime. The middle-aged man was generous and enjoyed lively atmospheres and interesting stories, and he didn't like to stay inside the carriage by himself. Thus, he sat beside the old carriage driver for almost half the journey, offering the driver a large amount of wine and leaving him in a very good mood.

The old carriage driver recounted many stories about incredible people and peculiar matters pertaining to Bamboo Scroll Lake that he had heard, but he said that Bamboo Scroll Lake wasn't as terrifying as outsiders made it out to be. There was indeed conflict and death, but the large majority of these violent matters wouldn't affect commoners like them.

However, Bamboo Scroll Lake was a huge money drain, and this rumor was definitely as true as could be. In the past, he and a friend had transported some young masters from the Luminous Vermilion Empire to Bamboo Scroll Lake, and the young masters had boastfully told them to wait at Pond Water City, saying that they would return in one month's time.

Yet, only three days had passed when the group of young masters boarded a boat from Bamboo Scroll Lake and returned to the city. They were without a single copper coin, and the seven or eight of them had wasted away a whopping six hundred thousand taels of silver in just three days. Listening to the conversation between the prodigal young masters, however, it seemed as if they were still yearning for more. In fact, they said that they would save some silver for half a year before returning to Bamboo Scroll Lake to enjoy themselves.

The middle-aged man appeared unremarkable and inconspicuous as he walked along the busy streets in Pond Water City.

A group of Qi refiners had been guarding the city gates just then, yet they hadn't checked for any passports or travel documents at all. Instead, one simply needed to pay some money to enter.

Pond Water City was situated on the western banks of Bamboo Scroll Lake.

Bamboo Scroll Lake was incredibly large, containing a thousand or so islands of various sizes that dotted the lake like stars in the sky. Most importantly, the lake was brimming with spiritual energy. It would be a monumentally difficult task if one wanted to establish a force and obtain a large swathe of islands and territory.

On the other hand, it would be most suitable for one or two Golden Core Tier earth immortals to occupy a relatively large island and use it as their residence and cultivation abode. The island would be tranquil, and it would also be similar to a small world. Thus, Qi refiners who possessed a strong affinity with water viewed some islands in Bamboo Scroll Lake as territories that were definitely worth fighting over.

The middle-aged man carrying a sword on his back entered a restaurant on the bustling street, ordering a pot of crow caw wine, the most renowned wine in Pond Water City. As he drank, he listened to the spirited conversations taking place on the neighboring tables. There was little information of use, and only one matter that caught his attention. Bamboo Scroll Lake was seemingly about to host a one-in-one-hundred-year meeting between all of the island masters, preparing to choose a new "ruler of the cultivation world," a position that had already been vacant for three hundred years.

After enjoying his fill of food and wine, the middle-aged man paid his bill before leaving the restaurant and asking for directions to Ape Crying Street, a street that was open to everyone in Pond Water City. The street was two kilometers long and filled with immortal shops, and both ends of the street were guarded by Qi refiners who also didn't check for passports or travel documents. All they wanted was silver. Pond Water City was quite similar to Old Dragon City, the number one commerce city in the continent, in this regard, what with their tendency to detest those who were wealthy and laugh at those who were poor. They only listened to those who were wealthy.

If one doubted this, then one only needed to look at the wine in their cups. Every cup would first be raised to those who were wealthy.

In this sense, it seemed as if the entire world were quite similar no matter where one went.

The middle-aged man had a vermilion wine gourd tied to his waist, and he had heard from the carriage driver just then that one need not worry in Bamboo Scroll Lake, a place brimming with all kinds of people, as long as one could speak the official dialect of the continent. Even so, the middle-aged man had still chosen to learn the local dialect of Bamboo Scroll Lake from the old carriage driver. He was only able to learn a small amount of the local dialect, but this was enough for him to ask for directions and haggle with vendors.

He continued to wander around the streets and take in the sights, not drawing any attention to himself and not entering a huge number of shops to purchase their most valuable treasures. Of course, he didn't just look and not buy, and he purchased a few refined but inexpensive spirit tools, behaving just like an ordinary Qi refiner from a foreign city. He was simply soaking in the atmosphere, and he didn't act in a way that would make others look down on him. Similarly, he didn't act in a way that would make others look up to him.

In the end, the middle-aged man stopped at a shop that sold antiques and other miscellaneous items. The products were quite decent, but the prices weren't especially fair. The shopkeeper also looked like a stubborn person who wasn't good at doing business, so sales in the shop were inevitably quite poor. Many people came and went, yet very few people retrieved immortal coins from their pockets.

The middle-aged man stood in front of an ancient copper sword that was resting horizontally on a unique sword stand, not walking away for a very long time. The sword and scabbard were displayed separately, with one resting on a higher stand and one resting on a lower stand. Inscribed on the blade of the sword were four small oracle bone script characters, Great Replica Qu Huang.[1]

Looking at the sword-carrying middle-aged man bending over and carefully examining the ancient copper sword, the shopkeeper asked in impatience, "What are you looking at? Can you even afford it? Even replicas of the ancient Qu Huang Sword cost a huge sum of snowflake coins. Shoo, shoo, shoo, you can go somewhere else if you want to feast your eyes."

The middle-aged man was most likely a spineless person due to his flat money pouch, so not only did he not flare up in rage, but he even turned around and asked the old man with a smile, "Shopkeeper, is Qu Huang the name of one of the eight fine steeds that pulled the carriage for the Etiquette Sage and the first emperor of the mortal world when they patrolled the world together?"

The old shopkeeper shot a glance at the sword-carrying middle-aged man, with his expression improving slightly as he replied, "At least your appraisal skills aren't so bad that you might as well be blind. That's right, this is none other than the Qu Huang of the eight fine steeds. Afterward, a masterful sword blacksmith from the Middle Earth Divine Continent spent his life's effort to forge eight famous swords, naming them after the eight fine steeds.

"The blacksmith had a strange temper, and even though he was willing to sell the eight swords, he was very particular about which continent the buyer of each sword came from. Thus, he ended up passing away before he could sell all eight swords. There are countless replicas of his swords, and this ancient sword that dared to inscribe the characters 'great replica' in front of Qu Huang is indeed a very good replica. As such, its asking price is naturally very high, and it's already been on display in my store for more than two hundred years. Young man, you definitely can't afford this sword."

The middle-aged man didn't try to show off to his own detriment, and he retracted his gaze from the ancient sword and started to look at the other trinkets and curios. In the end, he stood in front of a painting hanging on the wall. This was a painting of a beautiful woman sitting sideways and covering her face as she cried. If one listened carefully, one could surprisingly hear the faint sound of weeping coming from the painting.

The old shopkeeper chuckled and remarked, "Oh, what a surprise, I've actually come across someone who knows his treasures. After entering my store, the two items that you've observed for the longest are both the best items in my store. Not bad, not bad at all. You don't have much money, but your appraisal skills are indeed quite good. What, did you come from a wealthy family that eventually fell into decline? Is that why you started to travel around the cultivation world by yourself? Are you carrying a cheap sword and showing off a crappy wine gourd and pretending to be a wandering swordsman?"

The middle-aged man was unfazed as he continued to observe the mysterious painting. In the past, he had heard someone say that there were many calligraphy works and paintings from fallen nations that would develop feelings of grief and indignance under some specific circumstances. Meanwhile, some individuals in these paintings would become spiritual beings who wept alone in a heartbroken manner.

He smiled and replied, "Whether or not someone is a wandering swordsman isn't determined by how wealthy or poor they are."

The old shopkeeper sniggered and retorted, "Only naive fools who haven't spent two or three years in the cultivation world would utter ridiculous nonsense like this. You don't look very young, so I surmise that you've wasted your time in the cultivation world and learned absolutely nothing. Otherwise, you might have dipped your toes in a few places and treated that as traveling through the true cultivation world."

The middle-aged man didn't become angry, and he pointed at the painting on the wall and asked, "How much does this painting of the beautiful woman cost?"

The old shopkeeper waved a hand and replied, "Young man, don't embarrass yourself."

The middle-aged man smiled and said, "What if I can actually afford it? If that's the case, then how about you give me one or two cheap trinkets? What do you say, Mr. Shopkeeper?"

The old shopkeeper was indeed a little bored after looking after the store passed down by his ancestors for so many years, so he instantly developed a fighting spirit and pointed at a treasure located closest to the entrance, raising an eyebrow and replying, "Sure thing. Do you see that treasure shelf? If you can afford this painting, then I'll let you pick any three items you want from that shelf and give it to you for free. I'll adopt your surname if I so much as furrow my brows!"

The middle-aged man smiled and nodded in response.

The old shopkeeper hesitated for a moment before continuing, "I won't say anything else about the origin of this painting, since I'm sure that you're already aware of its value. Three lesser heat coins. If you can afford it, then the painting is yours. Otherwise, hurry up and scram."

The middle-aged man glanced back at the painting on the wall before looking at the old shopkeeper again and asking if the price couldn't be negotiated, to which the old shopkeeper smiled coldly and nodded in response. The middle-aged man turned around again, looking at the painting for a while longer before glancing around the empty store as well as the entrance. Only then did he walk to the counter and flick his wrist, slapping three immortal coins onto the counter.

He covered the coins with his hand as it pushed it toward the old shopkeeper, and the latter also glanced at the store entrance before rapidly placing his hand over the immortal coins the instant that the middle-aged man raised his hand. He dragged the coins over and lifted his hand slightly, grabbing them in his palm and placing them in his sleeve after confirming that they were indeed three genuine lesser heat coins.

He looked up and chuckled, "It looks like I was wrong this time. Not bad, young man, it looks like you are indeed quite capable. You even managed to trick me, someone who has already mastered the ability to see through everything."

The middle-aged man smiled in exasperation and said, "Then I'll go over there to pick three items that I want."

The old shopkeeper laughed loudly, walking out from behind the counter and saying, "Go ahead. As a shopkeeper, it's integral that I keep this level of trust. I'll help you package the painting first, and you can rest assured that it will be packaged well. In fact, just the box alone is worth two snowflake coins, so it's only natural that it won't damage this valuable painting."

The middle-aged man walked over to the treasure shelf near the entrance, with his eyes wandering over the treasures as the old shopkeeper carefully removed the painting from the wall. As he placed the painting into the exquisite box, he continued to observe the middle-aged man out of the corners of his eyes.

Bloody hell, if he knew this person was so rich from the beginning and so liberal with his spending, then would he have accepted the gamble so readily? Not only that, but he had even wagered three items at once. He couldn't help but feel extremely pained at this moment.

However, the old shopkeeper felt slightly more at ease after the middle-aged man picked two items, as he wouldn't lose much from these items. Yet, his eyelids shuddered when the man picked the third item, a black jade seal that was yet to be engraved by a renowned craftsman. "Young man, what's your surname again?" he asked hurriedly.

The middle-aged man had initially been a little hesitant, but he resolutely grabbed the seal when he heard the old shopkeeper ask this. "My surname is Chen," he turned around and replied with a smile.

"If I adopt your surname Chen from now on, can you please put the seal back on the shelf?" the old shopkeeper asked in a pitiful voice.

The middle-aged man smiled and shook his head, replying, "As a shopkeeper, it's integral that you keep a certain level of trust."

The old shopkeeper huffed and exclaimed, "If you ask me, I'd say that you should quit being a bullshit wandering swordsman or whatever. You should become a businessman, and you'll definitely be swimming in money in a few years."

Even though the old shopkeeper said this, he had actually made quite a healthy profit in this transaction. He was in a brilliant mood, so he poured a cup of tea for his customer with the surname Chen in a rare display.

The middle-aged man wasn't showing signs of wanting to leave straight away. The old shopkeeper was thinking about whether he could sell the Great Replica Qu Huang as well, while the middle-aged man wanted to learn more about Bamboo Scroll Lake from the shopkeeper. Thus, the two of them started to chat over tea.

The middle-aged man learned many things that the old carriage driver had been unaware of.

Bamboo Scroll Lake was an otherworldly paradise for vagrant cultivators, and those who were smart would enjoy a prosperous life while those who were stupid would suffer an especially miserable life. In this place, there was no notion of good cultivators or evil cultivators, and the only thing that separated people was their cultivation base and schemes.

Business was booming, shops were aplenty, and there were all kinds of weird and wonderful matters that one could wish for.

Those who hit a dead end or suffered misfortunes in other places would often find a new lease on life at Bamboo Scroll Lake. Of course, they didn't need to dream about living a comfortable or extremely satisfying life. In any case, one could survive as long as one joined the correct force and was able to bring enough to the table. Regarding how one fared afterward, that would completely depend on their own abilities. Becoming a lackey who provided both money and physical labor for powerful forces was naturally an option as well. Indeed, there were some people who had endured pain and humiliation for many years and eventually rose to become fierce and dominant rulers of an entire region.

Time leisurely strolled past outside the shop.

The old shopkeeper spoke with spirit and vigor inside the shop.

An official Nascent Tier cultivator had once joined forces with a Golden Core Tier sword cultivator and felt like they could do whatever they wanted in the Eastern Treasured Vial Continent. They had swaggered around the continent, eventually deciding to host a grand banquet on a large island in Bamboo Scroll Lake and sending invitations to all of the earth immortals and Dragon Gate Tier cultivators in Bamboo Scroll Lake. They had announced that they would end the chaotic situation at Bamboo Scroll Lake where there were many powerful cultivators yet no legitimate leader, saying that they would become the new leaders of the cultivation world in this region.

Thirty-odd island masters attended the grand banquet, and not a single one of them had raised any complaints. In fact, they had either applauded and shouted in support or obsequiously nodded and spoke in support from the bottom of their hearts, saying that Bamboo Scroll Lake was sorely missing a powerful leader who could win over everyone, lest it remain a lawless and chaotic region. There were also some island masters who had remained silent. After the grand banquet concluded, some people secretly stayed on the island and started to eagerly display their loyalty, proposing plans and describing in detail the various forces in Bamboo Scroll Lake and their strengths and weaknesses.

However, what happened afterward was an event that all cultivators in Bamboo Scroll Lake, regardless of age, recounted with deep satisfaction even hundreds of years after the fact.

That night, four hundred or so cultivators from different islands had charged over to encircle the large island.

Using close to nine hundred immortal treasures and sending forth two hundred suicidal cultivators raised by the various islands, the cultivators from Bamboo Scroll Lake had brutally overwhelmed and killed the extremely arrogant Nascent Tier cultivator and Golden Core Tier cultivator.

Those who displayed the strongest killing intent were none other than the "disloyal" island masters who had "betrayed" Bamboo Scroll Lake first.

The middle-aged man listened very carefully, and he casually asked about the River Severing True Lord Liu Zhimao as their conversation progressed.

The old shopkeeper became increasingly spirited and energetic as he spoke.

He said that the River Severing True Lord was truly extraordinary nowadays.

A little devil had arrived two years ago, becoming the River Severing True Lord's closing disciple. He was even more impressive than his master, and he actually owned a petrifying flood dragon that brought death and chaos to his own sect. The little devil had gone on a killing spree, having his so-called big catfish massacre everyone in the residence of a guest elder including dozens of open collar ladies as well as a hundred or so other people. Not only that, but the victims had also been killed in the most horrific way possible.

Afterward, the little devil had killed his senior brother for some reason, leading to another violent and bloody incident. The big catfish displayed its vicious and bloodthirsty nature, snapping its maws with no further intention than the pure desire to kill. It left a trail of broken bodies and limbs in its wake.

Afterward, the master and disciple had faced little resistance as they conquered many surrounding islands owned by various other forces.

Those who obeyed them prospered, while those who disobeyed them died. It was said that the prepubescent little devil had also kidnapped many young and beautiful women, seemingly having his second senior sister train them into a new batch of open collar ladies.

Afterward, Bamboo Scroll Lake never enjoyed another peaceful day. Thankfully, those were conflicts between immortals that didn't affect remote places like Pond Water City.

Afterward, the little devil with the surname Gu had faced several assassination attempts from his enemies, yet he had surprisingly survived all of them. Not only that, but he had become even more arrogant and domineering, further building his notoriety. He was also surrounded by a large group of cultivators with swaying loyalty, and these people had given the little devil the nickname, "Prince of the Lake." During the new year, the little devil had also visited Pond Water City, with his convoy no inferior to that of crown princes from mortal empires.

The old shopkeeper was extremely animated as he spoke, yet the middle-aged man remained silent the entire time.

Evening arrived, and the old shopkeeper waved goodbye to the middle-aged man at the entrance of his store, saying that he was welcome to visit again even if he didn't want to buy anything.

The middle-aged nodded in response. With the three treasures in his sleeve and the brocade box under his arm, he bid farewell and left the store.

The old shopkeeper appeared slightly puzzled, feeling that the middle-aged man was... a little dejected when leaving his store. This was truly very strange. He was clearly a wealthy individual from the cultivation world, so was there any need to feel so dejected?

However, the old shopkeeper didn't think too much about this as he bobbed his head and walked back into his store.

He had completed a huge transaction today, and it was truly the case that business would remain idle for long periods at a time, yet he would make enough to live for years on end once he completed a single transaction. In the future, which of those ill-intentioned bastards from the neighboring stores would dare to accuse him of having no sales skills?

Regarding whether the middle-aged man would return to purchase Great Replica Qu Huang, and why his smile had eventually turned into a forced smile and then disappeared altogether as he fell silent, the old shopkeeper paid very little heed to these matters.

At the end of the day, the conflict between the immortals at Bamboo Scroll Lake, the actions of Little Devil Gu, and the grudges and gratitudes that existed between the cultivators were all external matters and stories belonging to other people. The old shopkeeper had simply heard about them and retold them, nothing more and nothing less.

Meanwhile, the middle-aged man walked slowly after leaving the store.

Life wasn't a fictional story where happiness, anger, sorrow, joy, grief, delight, partings, and reunions simply existed on the pages. Book pages were easy to turn, yet the human heart was extraordinarily difficult to repair.

Who had said this again? Was it Cui Dongshan? Or Lu Tai? Or perhaps Zhu Lian?

He couldn't remember anymore.

After walking a few dozen steps, the middle-aged man surprisingly stopped and sat down on the steps between two stores.

He looked much like a dog sitting on the side of the street.

1. Qu Huang is the name of one of the eight fine horses owned by King Mu of Zhou (956–918 BC). ☜