At dusk, a stranger arrived at the blacksmith's forge — a man who appeared to be roughly thirty, tall of stature, with long eyebrows, pale skin, and delicate, almost effeminate features that contrasted sharply with his broad, masculine frame. The combination gave him an unusual air of distinction.
Upon learning the man's identity, Ruan Qiong did not receive him as casually as he had Cui Minghuang of the Guan Lake Academy. Instead of chatting at the forge entrance, he had Ruan Xiu bring two bamboo chairs to the corridor and produced two pots of fine wine, one for each of them. The man did not stand on ceremony — he took the jug, broke the clay seal, and took a hearty swig. Laughing, he said, "Master Ruan, your display of power has shaken the entire court. I do not yet know the specifics of how the throne intends to respond, but as the newly appointed kiln superintendent and the first county magistrate of Longquan, I have already saved myself a great deal of breath. Ordinarily, I ought to have come bearing wine to pay my respects, but after hearing of the upheaval while en route, I rode hard and arrived in rather too great a hurry. Two jars of apricot-blossom brew from the Spring Festival shop on Rider's Rest Street — consider them my debt to you, Master Ruan."
Ruan Qiong waved dismissively. "No need for pleasantries. If we come to an understanding today, there will be plenty of time for drinks and conversation. If we don't, there is even less reason for us to cultivate goodwill."
The man laughed heartily — more like a wandering swordsman than a Great Li court official. He wiped his lips, rested the jug on his knee, and set aside the pretense of drinking while talking. "Mountain Six, which was sealed during the Chunhui era of Great Li — that is the official designation in the Ministry of Revenue's secret archives. According to the local county gazetteer, it was once called Dragon Spine Mountain. Halfway up its slope, there exists a naturally formed Dragon-Slaying Terrace of considerable size. Before I came here to take up my post, His Majesty held a private audience with me and stated plainly that this object would be jointly possessed by Master Ruan's Wind-Snow Temple and Zhenwu Mountain. How the two military schools choose to excavate, cut, or divide the terrace — whether to leave it untouched as an ancestral inheritance or transport it back to your respective sects — the Great Li court will not interfere. You may do as you please. If you require Great Li to provide manpower, such as commanding our two young mountain-moving apes to crack open Mountain Six and expose the terrace, you need only ask, Master Ruan."
Ruan Qiong smiled thinly. "Great Li's sincerity is no small thing."
The new superintendent was about to reply with the appropriate courtesies when Ruan Qiong continued, "That Dragon-Slaying Terrace — before I came here, the Wind-Snow Temple and Zhenwu Mountain had already reached an agreement. I, Ruan Qiong, the Wind-Snow Temple, and Zhenwu Mountain each take one-third. You have likely heard certain rumors from your emperor: I intend to establish my own sect here. That is why both my father and I have transferred our registrations from the Wind-Snow Temple. For the next sixty years, I will not formally open a sect, but as long as Great Li conducts itself to my satisfaction, once the sixty-year term expires, I will select a passable mountain peak in this area as the foundation for a future school."
The superintendent — who also doubled as the local county magistrate — made no effort to hide his delight, as though he had been waiting for precisely these words. He seized the opening immediately: "Master Ruan, rest assured. Excluding Veiled Cloud Mountain, the territory currently encompasses roughly sixty-one peaks. You may choose any three as the foundation for your future sect. If you are in no hurry to decide, I can provide you with both the old and new topographical maps of the Lizhu small chiliocosm. I can then accompany you on an inspection tour. You may make your decision after that, how does that sound?"
Any dynasty possessing a cultivator of Ruan Qiong's caliber to anchor its territory would consider itself supremely fortunate. His words implied not merely serving as a guest-retainer or State Tutor, but planting roots in Great Li's soil — a permanent connection between himself and the dynasty's fortune. This was no temporary alliance of convenience. Even the emperor himself would be delighted.
Great Li had always produced martial talent in abundance, led by the regional prince Song Changjing, with its number of fighters above the Fifth Realm unmatched across the Baoping Continent. But immortal cultivators on the mountains were pitifully scarce — a disparity that had long troubled the emperor.
Ruan Qiong laughed. "There is no rush about claiming mountains. To be blunt — apart from Veiled Cloud Mountain, which you are unwilling to part with, not a single peak here meets my standards."
The young superintendent flushed with embarrassment. In truth, before his arrival, neither he nor the emperor nor his own mentor had considered it likely that Ruan Qiong would establish a sect in Great Li. The Dragon-Slaying Terrace? Had Ruan Qiong not personally negotiated with the Wind-Snow Temple and Zhenwu Mountain to secure his share, Great Li would never have dared offend both schools just to court a single cultivator. The price would have been far too steep, even for a dynasty as ambitious as Great Li.
Ruan Qiong said abruptly, "Although the Wind-Snow Temple and Zhenwu Mountain have never proposed it, I personally hope Great Li will produce two sharp divine weapons — swords or blades, it matters not, so long as they are of sufficient quality. I can then hand them over to the two military cultivators who will come here to divide the Dragon-Slaying Terrace. You may report this to the court and await the emperor's reply. There is no rush."
The young superintendent considered briefly, then spoke with gravity: "I can decide this matter on my own authority. I accept, Master Ruan."
Ruan Qiong nodded and took a sip of wine, fairly satisfied with the man's decisiveness. After all, for a long time to come he would be dealing directly with this man named Wu Yuan. A fool would be exhausting. A coward would be worse.
Wu Yuan hesitated, then took a drink of wine — almost as if fortifying his courage — and said, "Master Ruan, first: the thirty-odd dragon kilns outside the small town will resume firing, though from now on they will produce only ordinary court ceremonial wares. Second: the new county seat being built east of the town — once completed, it will post the laws of Great Li, and we will have literate clerks explain them throughout the town, so that the common folk will truly understand their identity as subjects of Great Li."
Ruan Qiong's expression turned cold. He glanced at Wu Yuan, who explained with a smile, "This is merely a performance for the commoners. For the next sixty years, Master Ruan's rules will hold the highest authority in the small town. The four surnames and ten clans come second, and Great Li's laws come last. In the event of conflict, this hierarchy is the standard. Within a thousand li of the town, Master Ruan's every action will not only go unquestioned by Great Li — we will unconditionally stand on your side. Just as when you destroyed the body of the Purple Smoke River cultivator, and that wretch, unrepentant to the end, tried to petition the emperor through connections at court — my mentor, upon learning of it, had his primordial spirit executed without a word of debate."
Ruan Qiong frowned impatiently. "Tell your teacher to stop these pointless flourishes. Face means nothing to me — I am a crude blacksmith, not one for twisting turns of phrase. If Great Li is genuinely willing, give me tangible benefits. Whether I accept them or not is another matter entirely. That Purple Smoke River trash — if I had truly wanted him dead, could he have fled? He could have had a hundred legs and it wouldn't have helped. If I truly wanted to kill someone, how many people in Great Li could stop me? And even if they could — would they want to?"
Wu Yuan's face paled slightly. "Master Ruan, I understand."
Ruan Qiong did not wish to push matters too far. After all, this was their first encounter — one could not expect everything to go exactly as one wished. That would be unreasonable. So he asked on his own initiative: "In a mortal dynasty, the construction of Wenchang Pavilion and the Martial Saint Temple, the official appointment of mountain and river deities, and the suppression of unauthorized local shrines — these are all standard obligations. What are your plans for the small town in this regard?"
Wu Yuan, still smarting from his earlier rebuke, chose his words carefully: "Regarding Wenchang Pavilion and the Martial Saint Temple, the Imperial Observatory's geomancers have selected two sites — Porcelain Hill to the north of the town, and the Immortal's Grave to the southeast. The figures to be enshrined would be the two who once left this town to distinguish themselves — one literary, one martial, both having rendered great service to Great Li. What does Master Ruan think?"
Ruan Qiong's tone was not relaxed. "The two who would receive the incense offerings — a fitting choice. But has the site been finalized without consultation? Did you ask Old Master Yang's opinion?"
Wu Yuan froze. "Master Ruan, may I ask who Old Master Yang is?"
Ruan Qiong was also taken aback. He said half in jest, "Your teacher, the Embroidered Tiger, didn't even tell you this? He sent you to serve as superintendent and magistrate without so much as a word? Wu Yuan, tell me honestly — are you, like Qi Jingchun, a cast-off of the court, exiled here in disgrace? If so, then the agreement we've reached may require revision."
Wu Yuan could not defend himself. He had no explanation, and was himself thoroughly bewildered.
Some distance away, beside a water well, three youths of similar age crouched on the ground. Ruan Xiu was teaching Chen Ping'an the names, functions, and cultivation significance of various acupoints. The third youth had invited himself, and at first both Ruan Xiu and Chen Ping'an had wiped their writings from the ground and sat in silence, staring at him. The boy was clean-featured, with a cinnabar mole between his brows — a vermillion dot that gave his face a auspicious charm. But they had underestimated both his patience and his audacity. He sat there grinning, glancing from the straw-sandaled boy to the green-clad girl. After the time it takes half an incense stick to burn, he seemed to recognize that he, too, had underestimated their resolve, and finally spoke. In fluent local dialect, he said he had come from the capital, accompanying the superintendent, and wished to see the sights — particularly Porcelain Hill.
"Please, carry on with your acupoints and qi palaces. Don't be so stingy — what harm is there in my listening? It's not as though hearing about them will instantly turn me into a Land Immortal."
After that, Chen Ping'an and Ruan Xiu went about their business, ignoring the strange youth's chatter.
"Your handwriting is not so good, young man — obviously you never put in the proper effort. It floats like oil on water."
"Miss, your explanation there is incomplete. The saying 'half a pot stews the mountains and rivers' and 'drawing without knowing the acupoint invites ghosts to laugh' — actually it goes like this... Oh? You're skipping past this qi-palace already?"
"Heh heh heh. Miss, why don't you show him where the Central Altar acupoint is? Is it too difficult to point out? If you're too embarrassed, I could help... Miss, your eyes carry killing intent! You've misunderstood — I meant I would point out my own Central Altar. The one on your body — even immortals would have trouble locating it, so why would I seek such trouble?"
"Ow! Miss, why are you hitting me? Again? Miss, I surrender!"
"Miss, you left out the Tailbone, Spine Ridge, and Jade Pillow — the three gates on the back. The ancients said the rear gate opens half the achievement. Folding theGen and opening theQian is the true path. It's clearly important..."
It was ultimately Wu Yuan's arrival that freed Chen Ping'an and Ruan Xiu from their predicament. The talkative youth with the cinnabar mole and the taciturn young official departed side by side.
Chen Ping'an and Ruan Xiu sat on the rim of the well. Ruan Xiu glanced at the retreating pair and said softly, "The older one is an official. The one who was just with us — I'm not sure. I couldn't sense anything unusual. Perhaps he is a scholarly attendant. Many great families outside have such companions."
Chen Ping'an nodded.
Ruan Qiong approached the well with a stern expression. He dropped a single sentence, then turned away: "Chen Ping'an, come with me."
Chen Ping'an rose in confusion. Ruan Xiu had mentioned that her father agreed to lend him money, though not for another ten days or so — could he have changed his mind?
The green-clad girl followed behind with a guilty conscience.
Ruan Qiong sat in his bamboo chair and gestured for Chen Ping'an to take the seat Wu Yuan had occupied.
Ruan Xiu coughed and said with a smile, "Father, those two chairs were made by Chen Ping'an. Not bad, are they?"
Ruan Qiong said flatly, "I have business with Chen Ping'an. Don't interrupt, Xiuxiu."
Chen Ping'an straightened promptly. "Master Ruan, please speak."
Ruan Qiong produced a handful of silverfragments from his sleeve — perhaps three or four taels. "Go to the town, to Rider's Rest Street, and buy me a pot of the finest Peach Blossom Spring. Keep the change for yourself — buy some pastries."
Ruan Xiu was reluctant.
Ruan Qiong pretended to put the silver away. "Then go watch the furnace in the forging room. One hour."
Ruan Xiu snatched the money and ran.
Once his daughter was out of earshot, Ruan Qiong came straight to the point: "Chen Ping'an, do you have three bags of gold copper coins?"
Chen Ping'an's expression remained unchanged. He nodded. "Yes."
Ruan Qiong seemed pleased by the boy's honesty, and his demeanor softened somewhat. "Among the townsfolk, there is no one else who holds three bags of gold copper coins. Even the four surnames and ten clans of Fulu Street and Peach-Leaf Lane — the Song family has at most two bags, and most have only one. Eight of the town's smaller families each traded a family treasure for a single bag. Nearly all the valuable old artifacts have left the town. Perhaps seven or eight decent pieces remain."
"Outsiders will continue to flood into the town. Your life is not in danger — of that you may be certain. The reason I am being candid is that I want you to make good use of those three bags of gold copper coins. Do not hoard them until they rot, nor spend them carelessly. In the past, the town opened its doors once every sixty years, allowing roughly twenty or thirty people to enter and seek fortune. That era is over. From now on, this will be an ordinary Great Li town, and your three bags of gold copper coins will be conspicuous — inevitably drawing unwanted trouble. I, for one, dislike trouble. When that time comes, I would have to intervene on your behalf, and I have no desire to spend my days squabbling with children. So I will offer you one piece of advice. Whether you heed it is your decision."
"Before I offer it, let me be clear about one thing: gold copper coins are at their peak value now, but not everyone can spend them. Apart from the four great surnames — and the ten clans may be in the same position — the emperor intends to unseal all sixty-one mountains beyond Veiled Cloud Mountain and sell them to factions friendly to Great Li. The prices vary by size. The outside world is eager because, now that the Lizhu small chiliocosm has shattered and descended to the status of a mortal blessed land, the ambient qi — though drastically reduced — remains far superior to that of ordinary mountains, and is no less than that of ranges with legitimate mountain gods in residence. Moreover, His Majesty has promised that a great mountain deity, three lesser mountain gods, and a river god will be officially appointed here, ensuring that for sixty years to come, the thousand-li radius will remain prosperous and rich in spiritual energy. Buying a mountain is a deal with no risk of loss."
Chen Ping'an asked, "If I buy a mountain today and die tomorrow, what happens?"
The question struck precisely at the heart of the matter.
Ruan Qiong allowed himself a rare smile. "First: as long as you conduct yourself honestly in the town, you will not die inexplicably. If another mountain-moving ape comes for you — the old constraints no longer apply. What Qi Jingchun had to worry about, I do not. What he wished to uphold, I need not. So I may freely intervene. That is simply reasonable now. Second: the court is selling these mountains at a loss to cultivate goodwill beyond Great Li's borders — a deliberate sacrifice for future gain. Once you purchase a mountain, even if you die without heirs, the court will not reclaim it for three hundred years. It will be left to decay naturally. Third: I will personally claim three peaks first, the ones with the finest fengshui. If you later acquire adjacent mountains, and you lack the means to develop them, you could lease them to me for five hundred years. You would receive annual dividends, and your descendants after you."
This was the slow, enduring kind of wealth that countless noble families and great clans dreamed of possessing.
Ruan Qiong did not boast, leaving the implication unspoken.
Chen Ping'an asked with curiosity, "Master Ruan, roughly what are the prices for these mountains?"
Ruan Qiong replied casually, "The smallest — a solitary peak named Pearl Mountain by the court — asks one gold copper coin. It must be a spring-welcome coin."
Chen Ping'an was astonished. "Only one?"
Ruan Qiong laughed. "It's hardly worthy of being called a mountain — a small hill at best. One spring-welcome coin is overpriced, frankly, but Great Li simply cannot set the price at half a coin."
Chen Ping'an murmured, "A single coin for a mountain, however small, for five hundred years — that's a bargain however you look at it."
Ruan Qiong continued, "Medium peaks such as Black Plum Mountain, Wild Goose Mountain, and Lantern Lotus Peak are estimated at ten to fifteen gold copper coins. The largest — Withered Spring Mountain Range, Fragrant Fire Mountain, and Divine Beauty Mountain — run twenty-five to thirty coins. This is assuming no competing bids. In the end, what Great Li hopes to retain is not bags of gold, but the four surnames and ten clans, along with their connections across the Baoping Continent — their true patrons and backers, who might surface and engage with Great Li."
Chen Ping'an frowned. "Master Ruan, wouldn't taking such an obvious advantage make me a target? Wouldn't people hold a grudge?"
Ruan Qiong laughed. "You have a patron too. Close at hand, though you may not see it."
Chen Ping'an scratched his head without immediately agreeing.
Far from being annoyed by the boy's hesitation, Ruan Qiong was quietly pleased. "You haven't let it go to your head — that's good. Go back to Mud Vase Lane and think it over. Give me an answer by tomorrow. Delay breeds change — and that is not a bluff. It is simply the way of things."
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Chen Ping'an left the blacksmith's forge and walked all the way to the stone arch bridge without recovering from his shock.
The boy had imagined a future with money before. He had pictured eating meat buns and candied hawthorn every few days, having spring couplets and door-gods on his gate, fixing up the ancestral home until it looked like a real house, and bringing a pot of good wine and a box of pastries when visiting his parents' graves.
He had never in his wildest dreams imagined owning a single mountain — let alone several.