Chen Ping'an had become a temporary apprentice at the blacksmith's shop. According to Master Ruan, someone needed to fill Liu Xianyang's roles—digging wells, building houses, clearing channels—all required labor. There was no sense in feeding that young master Liu for nothing.
So Chen Ping'an became the busiest person in the shop. For any task requiring strength, the straw-shoe boy could match any able-bodied man. During breaks, Chen Ping'an went to the house to check on Liu Xianyang. The tall youth, having taken a round trip to the gates of hell, had become somewhat silent and withdrawn. Whether it was lingering fear from his near-death or damage to his vital essence from the mountain-moving ape's blow, he spoke little. Sickly and listless, he spent much of his time lying in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Aside from exchanging a few words with Chen Ping'an, Liu Xianyang hardly spoke to anyone. Chen Ping'an could do nothing about this, but fortunately, though Liu Xianyang's injuries were severe, the chest wound healed at a pace far faster than Chen Ping'an's left hand.
Ning Yao still lived at the Mud Vase Lane house. The man she called Master Ruan had, surprisingly, agreed to forge a sword for her. More surprisingly, Master Ruan said that if fortune favored them, the sword could be completed in half a year; if not, even a decade might prove insufficient. Ning Yao took this with equanimity, saying with a smile that her luck had never been bad—she would wait half a year.
Although Ning Yao lived at Chen Ping'an's ancestral home each day, the medicine pot and other items had been moved to the shop, sparing him the back-and-forth runs. Chen Ping'an slept at Liu Xianyang's house, partly out of concern that the home might be burglarized. Chen Ping'an had gone to the creek late at night again to feel for stones, only to return empty-handed. Even the deep pool at the green ox's back yielded no snake-gall stones. In Ning Yao's words, snake-gall stones were like people—they required vitality and spirit. Without it, they were merely elegant playthings for wealthy households, suitable at best as an inkstone. But with vitality, they were like a man donning a dragon's robe—the difference between the two was as vast as heaven and earth.
This made Chen Ping'an sigh every time he walked along the creek.
Ning Yao had brought back a set of old keys for Chen Ping'an, saying someone had dropped them in the courtyard. She tried them, and sure enough, they opened every door of Song Jixin's house next door—the gate, the front door, the rooms. Chen Ping'an couldn't guess what Song Jixin intended. Given the prince's extravagance, he shouldn't have expected someone else to clean his house. With Song Jixin's temperament, even if the roof collapsed, he wouldn't let outsiders into his territory.
Chen Ping'an understood Song Jixin better than anyone.
Song Jixin was both extremely generous and extremely stingy. When it came to spending on himself or even on his maidservant Zhigui, he'd toss out every last copper in his pocket without a second thought. Yet for anything he wished to keep for himself, he wouldn't part with the slightest shred. In short, if Song Jixin decided to give something, a thousand gold was pocket change. But if someone asked him for something, he would be immovable. He was willing to add flowers to brocade when in a good mood—but whether his mood was good or bad, Song Jixin would never send charcoal in the snow.
Or had Zhigui deliberately dropped the keys in their courtyard?
Chen Ping'an judged the likelihood as slim.
During this time, when Ning Yao told him she had used the keys to open the door, he had stared in astonishment, words half-formed on his lips.
Ning Yao narrowed her eyes—those long, tapered brows radiating an especially fierce pressure. She fixed her gaze upon him, unblinking.
Ruan Xiu, not far away, had watched the scene with a dazed expression, secretly snacking on the treats Chen Ping'an had bought for her in town.
In the end, Ning Yao was the first to turn away. That day she didn't have Chen Ping'an brew the medicine. Instead, she carried the clay pot to the empty ground behind the blacksmith's shop and worked at it herself for half the day. The girl ended up with a face blackened by smoke—not to mention an entire pot of charcoal. The green-robed girl with the ponytail walked past in the distance, cracking melon seeds as she went, thoroughly entertained.
Ning Yao crouched on the ground, glaring at the pot of ruined medicine. She felt this was far harder than sword or blade practice. Her face was a picture of indignation—in all the world, was there truly something I, Ning Yao, could not do well? Perhaps medicine-brewing should simply never exist!
Chen Ping'an walked silently to her side and began rebrewing the medicine with practiced ease.
Ning Yao's lips moved, but she didn't stop him. She only wiped her face when he wasn't looking.
The boy crouched beside the medicine pot, carefully watching the flame. His hands were folded on his knees, his chin resting on his arms.
Ning Yao snorted coldly: "Go ahead and laugh if you want!"
Chen Ping'an didn't laugh. He kept watching the gently wavering blue-green flame and said quietly: "It's not that I think Miss Ning would do something wrong. But the keys belong to someone else. No matter how they ended up in our courtyard, it wouldn't be right to use them to open the door. Even if Song Jixin and Zhigui never return to this town, that courtyard is still his. We are outsiders."
Ning Yao pouted: "Soft-hearted fool, stubborn as a mule, fussy about nothing—nag, nag, nag!"
Chen Ping'an and Ning Yao turned their heads almost simultaneously. A young man stood before them—tall and slender, refined in bearing.
Chen Ping'an found the way the man regarded him very peculiar. It wasn't like the mountain-moving ape or Fu Nanhua of Old Dragon City, who looked down from their perceived heights. Nor was it like Daoist Lu or Miss Ning. The young man's gaze was deeply contradictory, containing both pity and admiration, tinged with a trace of distaste.
The young man ultimately chose to leave in silence.
Ning Yao frowned: "He was clearly here for you. What's that about?"
Chen Ping'an was puzzled and shook his head: "I don't understand."
Derailed by the baffling outsider, the slight mood between the boy and girl—hardly even a true rift—dissolved as quickly as it had formed.
But the man soon returned, accompanied by a young woman with exceptionally long legs. For reasons Chen Ping'an couldn't fathom, Ruan Xiu was also with them.
Ruan Xiu explained: "They said they don't speak the local dialect, so they asked me to help translate. Chen Ping'an, this lady is the one who saved Liu Xianyang. She shares your surname Chen, but she's not from our Baoping Continent. The gentleman beside Miss Chen is the eldest grandson of the Chen clan of Longwei Commandery. His name is Chen Songfeng. According to Miss Chen, the Chen clan here and the one Chen Songfeng belongs to are distant relatives from several hundred years ago. As for Miss Chen, even tracing back one or two thousand years, there's no relation. This time Miss Chen has come to pay respects at her ancestral graves, but here in town—from the Supervisory Bureau to the great families on Fulu Street and Peach-Leaf Lane—no one knows exactly where her family's tomb is located. Liu Xianyang mentioned you, saying you're now the person in town who knows the surrounding landscape best. Finding you would guarantee success. Miss Chen said if you can help, she'll pay a bag of gold-essence copper coins. I think you should agree..."
At this point, the green-robed girl secretly held two fingers together and waggled them at her waist. Her lip movements also formed the words "two bags."
Ruan Xiu was clearly signaling Chen Ping'an to ask for as much as he could—the chance wouldn't come again.
After careful thought, Chen Ping'an smiled: "I know of a place that might be the one she's looking for. As for payment, forget it—it's just a matter of walking a few steps."
Ruan Xiu looked anxious.
Ning Yao had already stepped forward and said in the formal tongue of the Baoping Continent: "It's fine for Chen Ping'an to guide you to your ancestral grave, but you must pay two bags of gold-essence copper coins. Non-negotiable. He's injured gravely at the moment and can't travel long distances. You know this yourself. Mr. Qi is urging people to leave town quickly. Chen Ping'an is merely a mortal, yet he must hasten his pace. One bag isn't enough."
Chen Dui and Chen Songfeng had both been struck by the girl's appearance at first sight.
To see her was to forget the vulgar world.
Like a stalk of fragrant orchid standing tall amid a barren paddy field.
Chen Dui studied the girl before her openly—green robes, a blade at her waist, a sword at her side. A pleasing sight. Her spirits lifted slightly. She smiled: "As long as you find my family's ancestral grave, two bags of coins. But let me be clear upfront—if you fail, I won't give you a single coin. Agreed?"
Ning Yao said firmly: "It's a deal!"
From start to finish, it seemed as though Chen Ping'an had no say in the matter.
Ning Yao fixed him with a gaze that said, Don't you dare complain, or I really will draw my blade.
Chen Ping'an suppressed a smile, thought carefully, and said to Ruan Xiu: "Could you tell them I need to finish brewing Miss Ning's medicine first. It'll take about another quarter-hour. Then I'll go talk with Liu Xianyang. After that, I'll need you to let Master Ruan know that anything I missed today, I'll make up for tomorrow."
Upon hearing they couldn't depart immediately, Chen Dui looked displeased. She studied this ungrateful straw-shoe boy, her expression shifting between shadow and light.
Chen Ping'an didn't waver.
Ning Yao crossed her arms, her smile cold.
Chen Dui suppressed her irritation, telling herself that the greater plan mattered most. She said to Ruan Xiu with a smile: "Xiuxiu, tell him we'll wait for him at the gallery bridge. Half an hour at most. If he doesn't show by then, he can bear the consequences."
Ruan Xiu responded with a noncommittal "Mm."
Chen Dui and Chen Songfeng departed together.
Ruan Xiu smiled: "I'll go tell my father."
After finishing the medicine for Ning Yao, Chen Ping'an went to see Liu Xianyang.
In the room thick with the scent of medicine, Liu Xianyang lay in bed. Hearing footsteps, he turned to look. His complexion was still pale, but far better than before.
Liu Xianyang forced a smile and rasped: "That woman named Chen Dui came to see you?"
Chen Ping'an nodded: "I'll be leading them into the mountains soon."
Liu Xianyang considered: "I'll be leaving with them. Going to a place they say is even larger than our Baoping Continent."
Earlier, Chen Dui had spoken with Liu Xianyang once, but afterward he'd shown little enthusiasm and had no intention of telling Chen Ping'an what she'd said.
Liu Xianyang's lips twitched: "Honestly, I don't even know what the Baoping Continent is."
Chen Ping'an bent to straighten his blankets and smiled: "You think I know?"
Liu Xianyang rolled his eyes: "Do you know what I'm most worried about?"
Chen Ping'an shook his head.
Liu Xianyang turned back to the ceiling: "Here, you can at least help me out of bed. Afterwards, gritting my teeth, I can manage on my own. But once I leave town—what about relieving myself on the road? Am I supposed to tell them, 'Hey, one of you, come give me a hand'?"
Chen Ping'an sat on the stool and could only scratch his head.
Liu Xianyang suddenly laughed: "Then again, if I've already faced death itself, what is there to fear?"
Chen Ping'an said: "Things can only get better. Don't worry. Old Yao used to say—survive a great disaster and good fortune follows."
At the mention of Old Yao, Liu Xianyang grew somewhat melancholy: "Old Yao never had a good word to say in his life. Depressing words, unlucky words, curses—those he had in abundance."
Ning Yao stood outside the door, silent.
Chen Ping'an tucked the blanket around Liu Xianyang once more, then rose: "I'm going to lead them into the mountains. You rest well."
Liu Xianyang nodded: "Be careful."
Chen Ping'an slipped quietly out of the room. Ning Yao walked alongside him. Curious, he asked: "You're coming up the mountain too?"
Ning Yao frowned: "I don't trust those two Chens."
Chen Ping'an nodded: "That's fair. Caution never hurts."
They walked briskly along the creek. Ning Yao said: "The outsiders in town have mostly left."
Spring thunder roused the hibernating insects from their slumber.
The two groups met at the southern end of the gallery bridge.
Besides Ning Yao and Liu Baqiao—the Wind-Thunder Garden sword cultivator who had come along for the excitement—the remaining three were Chen Dui from another continent, Chen Songfeng of the Chen clan from Longwei Commandery on the Baoping Continent, and Chen Ping'an of Mud Vase Lane.