Sword of Coming

Sword of Coming

Chen Ping’an continued to make his way along the vast river that led into the sea, traveling in the upstream direction. He didn’t try to stay particularly close to the riverbank, making no effort to ensure that he could see the river at all times.

After all, he had to carefully examine the local customs and traditions of the places that he passed through, as well as visit various sects and mountain and water deities. As a result, he often had to take a longer route than the shortest available one, and he wasn’t traveling very quickly.

He had always been like this whenever he decided to do something, willing and able to withstand all manners of rigors and hardships. He was like a safe harbor, providing shelter to all those around him.

He had always possessed tremendous patience and resilience, perhaps due to his rough upbringing.

On his journey, Chen Ping’an encountered something that was rather thought-provoking.

One night, he was staying in an inn near a certain prefectural city god temple in the Sacred Lotus Nation when, at around midnight, a loud cacophony of percussion instruments audible only to cultivators and ghostly beings rang out. The underworld suddenly opened up, and all of the nearby ghosts and spirits were guided into the prefectural city by all manners of errand ghost and underworld emissaries in an orderly fashion.

The semimonthly city god night assembly was taking place, and it was also known as the city god night trials, during which the city god would judge all of the yin entities his territory on their merits and transgressions.

Chen Ping’an slipped out of the inn and arrived outside the city god temple. The day and night-wandering deities were standing at the entrance, serving as door gods, and they immediately extended respectful bows at the sight of Chen Ping’an.

Chen Ping’an cupped his fist to return their salute, then asked if he could listen in on the city god’s night trials.

The day-wandering deity immediately entered the temple to relay Chen Ping’an’s request to the city god, and upon securing approval from the city god, the scholarly and martial judges, and the three assistant officials from the Yin Yang Division, Chen Ping’an was invited into the temple.

The city god was seated behind a large table with the two judges and the three assistant officials standing behind him in an orderly formation, passing judgment upon the ghosts and spirits inside.

Anyone dissatisfied by their rulings and hadn’t committed any clearly heinous crimes were permitted to appeal to the nearby mountain and river gods, at which point those mountain and river gods would send their own underworld emissaries to reassess their cases.

The city god had ordered for a chair to be brought out for Chen Ping’an, but he moved the chair to behind a pillar, and only then did he sit down upon it, seemingly resting with his eyes closed.

Only when a yin entity began loudly expressing their dissent toward their ruling did Chen Ping’an open his eyes to listen to how the city god was going to respond.

The yin entity in question had been a Confucian scholar during his living days, but hadn’t received any official scholarly honors. He had once unintentionally dug up a mass burial site outside the prefectural city, and he had exhumed the sets of human remains inside before properly burying them one by one.

The yin entity felt like this was an act of significant merit, and he questioned why the city god had completely disregarded this when, in his opinion, this should’ve been enough to make up for his transgressions. He was determined to raise an appeal to the river god, and if that didn’t work, he would put his chance at entering the cycle of reincarnation on the line to raise the matter even further to the Central Mountain God of the Sacred Lotus Nation.

He was convinced that the mountain god was corrupt and unjust, and he was determined to stand up for himself.

”It has always been our policy to not reward meritorious acts made purely with the intention of accumulating good karma for oneself, and to not punish inadvertent transgressions made with no purposeful intent,” the city god countered. ”Your case is one that’s extremely clear-cut, and even if you raise this matter to the Central Mountain God, his ruling won’t be any different!”

The yin entity lowered his head in a defeated manner.

The night trials drew to a conclusion on the cusp of first light.

Chen Ping’an rose to his feet, then made his way around the pillar to stand in the, where he expressed his gratitude to the city god before departing.

The city god personally escorted him to the entrance of the temple, and once there, he hesitated momentarily before asking, ”Was it you who cleared out that path down the mountain for the slaves of the Winding River Prefecture tasked with venturing into the mountains to collect imperial wood?”

”That was indeed me,” Chen Ping’an confirmed with a nod. ”The path was very perilous to traverse, so I took pity on them and decided to make the conditions a little easier.”

”Two of those people should’ve died on the return trip down the mountain,” the city god sighed. ”One of them should’ve been crushed to death by a log, while the other was destined to fall to his death off a cliff. By clearing out that path, you’ve saved two lives. Do you think this was more of a meritorious act or more of a disruption of karma?”

”The fact that you’re asking me this question tells me that it was most likely the latter,” Chen Ping’an said with a smile.

The city god observed Chen Ping’an for a moment, then smiled as he said, ”You’re a wise man.”

Unlike humans, deities were able to see beyond the exterior to peer directly into the hearts of others.

”People’s actions are like flowing rivers,” the city god sighed. ”A river can nourish the fields and provide food for countless people, but it could just as easily turn into a torrential flood that kills just as many people. There is a very fine line between merit and fault, and one could turn into the other in the blink of an eye.

“As a cultivator, you must be particularly aware of this. Of course, I am just a minor deity whose words hold no weight, so please do not allow your mental state to be disrupted by me. Otherwise, I will have committed a severe transgression myself.”

Chen Ping’an thanked the city god once again, and upon returning to the inn, he ignited the lamp on the table, then began transcribing the one-page Buddhist scripture as a means of calming his own mental state.

After completing his transcription, he stowed the scripture away alongside his writing utensils.

As first light arrived, he blew out the lamp and made his way over to the window.

Upon closer examination, one would discover that the rules laid out by mountain and river deities were quite far removed from the rules of Confucianism. The former didn’t correspond at all with conventional ideas of good and evil, and as Chen Ping’an continued to walk down the path of cultivation, this was something that he had to grow accustomed to.

At the moment, he was actually in a very good mood.

Having traveled so far, he had added many items to his collection, and he was very much looking forward to seeing the future Downtrodden Mountain.

While a lone flower could be quite beautiful, a flourishing floral garden was what Chen Ping’an truly wanted to see.

After leaving the prefectural city, Chen Ping’an continued to travel through the Sacred Lotus Nation.

He wasn’t wearing his jade hairpin or his conical bamboo hat. However, his bamboo case remained on his back, and he was still holding his bamboo hiking pole.

On this day, Chen Ping’an entered a waterside temple to offer up some incense, and as he did so, he spotted a thousand-year-old cypress tree that would’ve taken seven or eight grown men holding hands with their arms extended to fully encircle. Its canopy hung over half of the entire plaza, and beside it was a stone plaque bearing a passage of text written by a renowned scholar of the Sacred Lotus Nation.

The local authorities had spent a great deal of money hiring an exceptional artisan to engrave the plaque, and even though it was very new, it had a very antiquated appearance. Only after reading the text on the plaque would one come to understand just how many ordeals the cypress tree had withstood to still be standing to this day.

Chen Ping’an had taken a liking to the contents of the plaque, so he pulled out his writing utensils from his bamboo bookcase, then used the bookcase as a desk to transcribe the contents of the plaque word for word.

It was a very long passage of text, and Chen Ping’an was taking great care in his transcription, so before he knew it, it was already nighttime.

The temple had a nightly curfew, but the temple attendant didn’t ask Chen Ping’an to leave. Instead, he and a small child carried a pair of stools over into the courtyard, then placed them on either side of the plaque and set a pair of lit lamps upon them to illuminate the plaque. Each lamp was enveloped within a thin veil that didn’t obstruct the light, but ensured that the lamps wouldn’t be extinguished by the wind.

Chen Ping’an hurriedly stopped what he was doing upon seeing this, then rose to his feet to bow to the temple attendant in gratitude.

The old temple attendant smiled and gestured for him to continue, then told him that there were rooms in the temple that visitors could stay in overnight.

He then issued some instructions to the small child, and the latter sank down to his haunches, holding a key in his hand while nodding off for sporadic naps.

The child was very bored, so he began observing Chen Ping’an’s transcriptions while standing behind him. In his eyes, Chen Ping’an’s handwriting couldn’t be referred to as good or bad. However, he was very meticulous, and his transcriptions were very neat. Aside from that, there were no other merits to his writing. He had once visited another temple, and that one had been far more spectacular than this one.

Its walls were riddled with inscriptions from renowned scholars, all of which were exceptionally elegant. The centerpiece was an entire wall full of text written in cursive script left behind by a renowned scholar in a drunken state. It was truly a sight for sore eyes, and even though it was only a passage of text casually written out on a wall, it was considered sacred in the literati world of the Sacred Lotus Nation.

In contrast, Chen Ping’an’s handwriting was downright mediocre.

After completing his transcriptions, Chen Ping’an packed his writing utensils back into his bamboo case, then hoisted it onto his back as he made his way into one of the guest rooms. As for how he was going to express his gratitude to the temple attendant, he decided that the best way to do so would be to make a large donation when he left the next day.

The child was yawning incessantly, and he felt like he could fall asleep even while on his feet, but he didn’t complain that Chen Ping’an was taking too long. There were many engraved stone plaques and written wall passages in the temple, so it was often the case that scholars would come here to make transcriptions. Despite his young age, the child was very experienced when it came to attending to guests.

Furthermore, the old temple attendant had a strange personality and had always given scholars preferential treatment. According to his senior brothers in the temple, the old temple attendant had attended to countless scholars who had traveled here for sightseeing or were on their way to the capital to attend the imperial examination.

However, it seemed that their temple wasn’t blessed by much fortune, and even after so many years, not a single one of the visiting scholars had excelled in the imperial examinations and gone on to become high-ranking officials. In contrast, all of the other temples were able to boast about stories of visits from scholars who went on to achieve lofty positions in the officialdom.

Chen Ping’an made his way into the corridor, then stopped in his tracks as he turned back to look at the ancient cypress tree.

”In the moonlit breeze the branch sways, much like a treasured sword’s gleaming rays,” he murmured to himself.

”That’s a fine poem, Young Master,” the child remarked. ”Where did you see it?”

”I forget where I read it,” Chen Ping’an replied with a smile.

”If only you had come up with that on the spot,” the child said in a forlorn manner. ”That way, we would’ve been able to engrave that phrase onto the walls of our temple to further add to our collection.”

Chen Ping’an cast his gaze toward the cypress tree and shook his head.

The child mistook this as a gesture from Chen Ping’an indicating that the poem wasn’t an original one that he had come up with himself, so he quickly lost interest and said, ”Please come with me, Young Master. I’ll take you to the guest room so you can rest for the night. It’s not a big room, but it’s very clean. I’ve been looking after all of the guest rooms, and I assure you that you won’t even find half an ant inside.”

The child lowered his voice here as he implored, ”If you do, please don’t report me to the temple attendant.”

Chen Ping’an nodded in response with an amused smile, then followed the child into the guest room.

Within the ancient cypress tree was a wood spirit that was on the cusp of attaining a human form, and it was so frustrated that it was on the verge of tears. It was itching to grab the clueless child and give him a firm knock to the head!

You foolish child! Do you know how massive a fated opportunity the temple has just missed out on because of you?

If that sword immortal had been invited to personally inscribe that poem onto the walls of the temple, the tree spirit would’ve benefitted immensely, elevating it to unprecedented heights! Of course, the fortune of the temple would also be enhanced to an unfathomable extent!

Even the most meticulous inscriptions made by the most powerful officials of the Sacred Lotus Nation couldn’t begin to compare with a casual inscription made by this almighty sword immortal!

However, it didn’t dare to say anything as the exalted immortal had shaken his head at it just now.

That night, Chen Ping’an continued to perform his six-step walking meditation while also complementing it with standing and sleeping meditation.

His fist intent coursed through his entire body in a half-asleep state, allowing him to rest and cultivate simultaneously.

All of a sudden, he sensed a slight disturbance, but his eyes remained closed as he continued his walking meditation.

That night, the old temple attendant dreamed of an azure-robed man carrying an ancient cypress branch on his back, much like a wandering hero carrying a sword. The man told the temple attendant that he was the manifestation of the cypress tree in the courtyard of the temple, and he implored the temple attendant to request the guest that was staying the night to leave behind an inscription.

The azure-robed man was extremely earnest in his pleas, so much so that he brought himself to the verge of tears.

The temple attendant awoke from his sleep with a start, and he heaved a faint sigh, seemingly reluctant to carry out the tree spirit’s request. In his eyes, if the young scholar wanted to leave behind an inscription, then he would do so even without being requested, and if he didn’t want to bless the temple with an inscription, then the temple attendant would be putting him in a difficult position by making such a request.

However, he was feeling quite conflicted. There had been many stories of the ancient cypress tree performing supernatural feats to protect the temple in the past, so he felt like he, along with his predecessors, were all indebted to the tree spirit. With that in mind, he put on his robes and boots, then made his way to Chen Ping’an’s guest room.

However, after much hesitation, he decided against knocking on the door. Instead, he strode over to the cypress tree and said, ”My apologies, cypress immortal, but I am unable to carry out your request. The actions and decisions of immortals are unfathomable to mere mortals like myself, and he must have his reasons for not leaving behind an inscription of his own accord.”

A forlorn sigh rang out from the cypress tree, but the tree spirit made no effort to change the temple attendant’s mind.

Only now did Chen Ping’an finally cease his walking meditation as a faint smile appeared on his face.

In the blink of an eye, he appeared beside the temple attendant and said, ”It’s fine, I’m happy to fulfill your request.”

The ancient cypress spirit appeared in the form of an azure-robed man, but its body was very indistinct and hazy as it was still yet to fully attain a human form.

It knelt down and kowtowed to the ground as it said in an emotional voice, ”Thank you, exalted immortal!”

The temple attendant hurriedly turned to bow to Chen Ping’an in gratitude as well, but Chen Ping’an reached out to stop him while accepting the tree spirit’s gesture of gratitude.

This wasn’t because he regarded the tree spirit as inferior to humans. Instead, he felt justified in accepting this gesture of gratitude from it as he had bestowed upon it a monumental fated opportunity.

After observing the city got night trials, Chen Ping’an had been struck by a flash of enlightenment, one that had allowed him to completely understand something.

If a cultivator wished to have a clear mind, then they had to address the factors clouding their mind at their roots.

Chen Ping’an told the temple attendant and the cypress spirit to wait for him for a moment, then made a trip back to his guest room and pulled out a sheet of golden talisman paper. Only after taking a moment to hone his concentration did he meticulously write down the phrase from earlier onto the piece of talisman paper. After that, he hoisted his bamboo case onto his back, then returned to the cypress tree and handed the talisman to the azure-robed man.

”You can bury this talisman where the roots of your tree and and the roots of the mountain meet, and you can slowly refine it from there. The pursuit of the Great Dao is always an unpredictable endeavor, and the only constant that you can ensure is yourself. Be good to the world, and the world will reciprocate you in kind.”

The azure-robed man accepted the golden talisman with both hands, and he burst into tears of gratitude as he kowtowed to Chen Ping’an once again.

With that, Chen Ping’an departed from the temple, choosing not to stay the night.

He turned back to discover that the temple attendant and the cypress spirit were still watching him from afar, and he gave them a farewell wave before continuing on his way.

He was in a good mood, having just saved himself from having to make a large donation.

A smile appeared on his face as he continued onward, practicing his six-step walking meditation as he made his way through the night.

Everyone had their own fate. Chen Ping’an’s visit had become a massive fated opportunity for the temple, but if he had visited some other temple under a different set of circumstances, perhaps he wouldn’t have felt inclined to leave them with anything.

However, that didn’t mean that the other temples couldn’t encounter other fated opportunities elsewhere.

There were countless paths to the top when it came to the pursuit of the Great Dao, so an encounter between people walking the same path was an extremely rare occurrence.

At a later point, Chen Ping’an stopped by the great river somewhere in the territory of the Sacred Lotus Nation’s Central Mountain, and he began fishing by the river with an old man. The old man was a Qi refiner, but not one of a particularly lofty cultivation base, perhaps the Sea Observation Tier or the Dragon Gate Tier.

However, he was certainly making a very big scene. He was accompanied by many maidservants and child attendants, and he had prepared a long row of fishing rods, as well as numerous large pots that were laden with bait, surely enough to completely stuff even the largest fish in the river.

The old fisherman determined that Chen Ping’an seemed to have been a fourth or fifth tier pure martial artist, and he was happy to have the company of a fellow fishing enthusiast, so he instructed one of his maidservants to deliver to Chen Ping’an one of his large pots of bait. The maidservant told Chen Ping’an that her master was always very generous to any fisherman that he met, so he could accept the pot of bait without any qualms.

She also told him that it was difficult to hook onto big fish unless burley was laid down first. Chen Ping’an nodded vehemently in agreement with this sentiment, and he proclaimed that the old man had to have been an expert fisherman. Despite the maidservant’s reassurances, Chen Ping’an still felt a little indebted to the old man for accepting such a large pot of bait from him, so he asked the old man for his Dao title.

”My friends all like to call me the Sea Filling Daoist,” the old man declared with a wide smile.

Chen Ping’an took a glance at the large pots of bait, and he could certainly understand why the old man had been given such a Dao title.

As the session wore on, the old man was constantly reeling in one fish after another, but the big fish that he desired continued to prove elusive.

At around dusk, a giant louchuan passed through, and the deck was packed with armorclad soldiers. The louchuan was crashing through the waves with tremendous power, causing a massive commotion.

The old man immediately began cursing loudly at the louchuan, denouncing them for scaring all the fish away.

An imposing general clad in a suit of Dew Armor emerged from the louchuan with an iron spear in his grasp, glowering intently at the old fisherman.

”That seems to be General Gao Ling of the Sacred Lotus Nation, and he’s wearing a suit of precious Divine Dewbearing Armor,” one of the maidservants cautioned in a concerned manner.

”Shoot!” the old man exclaimed as he stomped a foot in frustration. ”I heard he’s got a terrible temper! Fetch the rods, we have to get out of here!”

Over on the louchuan, a woman appeared by General Gao Ling’s side, and he lowered his head to discuss something with her briefly, then leaped onto the railing of the louchuan as he turned a hostile gaze back to the old fisherman.

Chen Ping’an slowly withdrew his fishing rod.

The brief exchange between the general and the woman on the louchuan had been clearly audible to him.

The general had told the woman that the old fisherman was a vagrant cultivator from a foreign nation with the Dao title of Sea Filling Daoist. Apparently, he was a very lazy cultivator whose combat prowess was well below the standard of his Dragon Gate Tier cultivation base.

Intrigued, the woman told Gao Ling to go and teach the old man a lesson. She told him that there was no need to kill him, but to give him a real beating, then find an opportunity to see if he could recruit him to her manor to serve as a guest elder.

Gao Ling was rather hesitant, telling the woman that the Sea Filling Daoist had already turned down the several invitations from the emperor of the Azure Jade Nation to serve as a guest elder of the imperial court, so he was most likely not going to accept her offer.

The woman merely nodded in response, seemingly having relented, but Gao Ling immediately knew what had to be done.

The Sacred Lotus Nation wasn’t a particularly powerful nation, but it had an extraordinarily powerful backer, and this woman had very close ties with the backer in question.

Gao Ling appeared to have been no more than thirty years of age, but he was actually already sixty. He was only a third-rank official in the Sacred Lotus Nation officialdom, but he was the most powerful warrior in the officialdom, and he knew that if he could fulfill the woman’s request, then that could well be enough for him to receive a promotion to the second rank.

With that in mind, he yelled, ”Where are you going in such a hurry? Why not come aboard and have a drink?”

He then launched himself off the railing, doing so with such force that the entire louchuan lurched to the side, and all of the armorclad soldiers onboard had to frantically grab onto the railing to prevent themselves from being thrown overboard.

Gao Ling landed on the surface of the river, then began treading water toward the shore as he thrust his spear forward.

However, before he had a chance to reach the shore, he saw a blur flash before his eyes, following which he felt a gentle but firm impact against his chest, sending him flying back to the louchuan.

As it turned out, the young fisherman beside the Sea Filling Daoist had suddenly swooped onto the scene, arriving before Gao Ling in the blink of an eye. From there, he thrust a palm into Gao Ling’s chest, sending him flying back to the louchuan even faster than he had come.