The Great Dao

As Chen Ping'an was about to run out of the courtyard, the black-clothed girl suddenly called out, "Wait, I have something to tell you."

Chen Ping'an pretended not to hear. Just as he was about to open the courtyard gate, the girl raised her voice, "Chen Ping'an!"

Chen Ping'an had no choice but to turn back to the threshold. Her complexion had become a few shades rosier than before, though her voice was still a bit hoarse. She said, "First, after we outsiders arrived in the town, as I told you before, our physiques are stronger than ordinary people, but apart from that, we are no different from you. Second, outsiders are not allowed to kill people here. Once violated, regardless of the reason or excuse, they will be expelled and destined to gain nothing. This price is huge, so big it's beyond your imagination. Third, you also need to think clearly, when we outsiders are in a desperate situation, even if we have to start with nothing, we will definitely take action. After all, being alive is the most fundamental thing."

Chen Ping'an thought for a moment and asked, "Does that mean one must act quickly when doing things?"

The black-clothed girl grinned. Her radiant face and sparkling eyes seemed to brighten the entire room. She patted the green scabbard resting on her knees and nodded, "Yes! One must act very quickly, even faster, perhaps the fastest! For example, me, I carry both a saber and a sword, and I aim to be the fastest person in the world at drawing either one!"

She paused for a moment, suddenly transforming from an impassioned heroic woman from afar into a neighborly girl eager to show off. She squinted and asked with a smile, "Hey, do you know how many of those there are in this world?"

Chen Ping'an looked bewildered.

The girl seemed to sense the young man's lack of interest and immediately lost her enthusiasm. She waved him away, "Just go buy the jar. I'm waiting to drink my medicine."

This time, Chen Ping'an's steps as he left the courtyard were slower and much steadier.

Not long after he left Mud Bottle Alley, the unlocked courtyard gate was gently pushed open. The black-clothed girl inside opened her eyes. She had been breathing and meditating in a strange way. She looked towards the entrance, as if facing a formidable enemy.

The flying sword within the snow-white scabbard on the table suddenly fell silent, yet an invisible aura of killing intent permeated the air, like the late spring chill that could freeze one to the bone.

The maid Zhi Gui sauntered to the doorway, like any ordinary neighbor visiting. She didn't cross the threshold but poked her head in, looking around. She completely ignored the black-clothed girl lying on the small bed with her saber across her knees.

After observing for a while, Zhi Gui finally spotted the living person. With an innocent expression, she asked, "Hello, sister, who are you? Why are you sitting on Chen Ping'an's bed? I didn't hear about him having any distant relatives."

Ning Yao glanced at the uninvited girl, then closed her eyes, paying no attention.

Seeing that she was feigning deafness and blindness, Zhi Gui didn't get angry. She just shook her head slightly, pouted, and looked displeased.

She glanced at the long sword with the snow-white scabbard on the table. Deep within her eyes, hidden hatred and fear flickered, and faint golden threads seemed to dart wildly in her pupils. The maid hesitated for a moment, then raised a foot, preparing to cross the threshold. Suddenly, she withdrew her foot, coughed, and put on an act, "I'm coming in, okay? If you don't say anything, it means you don't object, right? That's true, this is Chen Ping'an's house anyway, and I've known him for many years... You probably don't understand what I'm saying, do you? It's fine, we don't have much to talk about anyway. I just came to see if anything is missing here. We're moving soon, so many things can be left for Chen Ping'an. You don't know how hard his life has been these past few years."

Her rambling and seemingly concerned chatter made her and Chen Ping'an seem like childhood sweethearts.

After the maid Zhi Gui entered the room, the atmosphere remained calm. She walked directly to the small table and sat on a stool, her peripheral vision constantly darting towards the sword.

Meanwhile, the black-clothed girl took out the three pieces of paper left by the young Taoist priest for Chen Ping'an and examined them carefully, trying to decipher something. Unfortunately, after flipping through them twice, she still couldn't find any clues. Disappointed, she muttered, "These characters are written with no... flavor."

She clearly remembered that on the long wall in her hometown, there were eighteen characters, intermittently carved by swords. Each character contained a majestic aura that could suppress all demons.

When she was a child, her greatest joy was to stand within one of the strokes of those grand characters and gaze into the distance.

Therefore, she truly disdained the four-character plaque of the town, "Qi Chong Dou Niu."

The maid Zhi Gui turned around, quietly straightened her slender waist, and placed her hands on her knees, trying her best to appear like a young lady from a respectable family. Facing the black-clothed girl, she smiled sweetly and said softly, "Oh dear, you're being too careless, miss."

Ning Yao couldn't help but ask, "Who are you?"

Zhi Gui gasped, touched her chest, and feigned surprise, "Miss, you speak our local dialect!"

Ning Yao asked again, "Do you need something?"

Zhi Gui pointed to the long sword on the table, "Is that yours?"

Ning Yao frowned and remained silent.

The black-clothed girl didn't speak, and Zhi Gui didn't seem to mind. She stood up and walked to a corner of the room, looking at the bottles and jars on the wooden shelf. The maid examined these worthless belongings very carefully.

When he was an apprentice kiln worker, Chen Ping'an had walked barefoot through all the mountains and rivers around the town, going up the mountain alone to dig clay and chop wood. He ran up and down the mountain very quickly. As long as someone was willing to teach him something, whether it was basic or obscure, Chen Ping'an would put in twelve parts of his effort. He didn't care about the final outcome, and of course, he couldn't control it. Just like when Old Man Yao taught him pottery, he was always stingy and unwilling to reveal his true, secret techniques. However, whatever Old Man Yao said or did, Chen Ping'an would do it with extreme seriousness. Later, when Liu Xianyang taught him to make wooden bows, fishing rods, and other items, Chen Ping'an learned them with equal meticulousness. Song Jixin, who lived next door, always spoke harshly, saying that Chen Ping'an's habit, according to books, was called "doing one's best and leaving the rest to fate." It was just a pity that Chen Ping'an had no good fate, so it would be better to just eat and wait for death, and let things fall apart.

Zhi Gui waved her hand, her smile bright, "Alright, alright, miss. Take care of your injuries. If you need anything, just call out. My name is Zhi Gui, and I live in the next courtyard."

Ning Yao's expression remained unchanged.

The maid left the room and, after reaching the courtyard, muttered in a voice loud enough for the black-clothed girl inside to hear, "There's not much to look at, is there."

Ning Yao also said softly, as if unintentionally, "That name is really tacky."

When Zhi Gui closed the courtyard gate, she did so with some force, making a loud bang.

Ning Yao closed her eyes again to rest.

The strange girl's visit did not stir Ning Yao's heart.

However, she truly disliked this small town, especially the cultivators who came here seeking opportunities. Their scheming and groveling, their claims of being immortals and masters, were merely due to their position above the mountains, not because of their own greatness.

In Ning Yao's heart, the Great Dao should not be so small.

The straw-sandaled youth walked out of Mud Bottle Alley. The sunlight was a bit dazzling, so he raised his right hand to shield his forehead and let out a soft breath.

Then he started to jog. His steps were light and quick. Even though he had traversed the streets and alleys many times, he showed no signs of fatigue. After all, for someone accustomed to climbing mountains and wading through rivers, this distance was insignificant. The truly arduous tasks were going up the mountain to burn charcoal. A Dragon Kiln required twenty to thirty thousand catties of charcoal annually. Especially during heavy rain, staying on the mountain to chop wood and burn charcoal was truly a form of suffering. The young man had once nearly died in a charcoal kiln that collapsed during construction. The work he had done over the years was almost entirely physical labor, requiring some skill, but once the basics were mastered, it was purely about strength. Therefore, the young man's seemingly thin and weak appearance was just an illusion; he possessed a resilience forged through countless trials.

Chen Ping'an stopped at a crossroad. He leaned against the wall, squatted down, kept one hand clenched into a fist, and tightened the laces of his straw sandals with the other.

At this moment, his mind was as calm as still water.

He just missed his only friend in town.

That guy had once mysteriously boasted to Chen Ping'an, saying that his grandfather had told a story. When his grandfather was a child, he had personally seen someone stand by a stream and, with just a few running steps, leap across the entire stream. Later, Liu Xianyang and Chen Ping'an went to try it themselves. They chose the narrowest part of the stream, retreated together for a running start, and jumped simultaneously. The result was that Liu Xianyang, who was a few years older than Chen Ping'an, quickly ran out of strength after his jump and fell into the water. Then he noticed a dark shadow above him, whooshed forward, and landed far away.

After that, Liu Xianyang never mentioned the immortal who could cross a stream in one step again.

And later still, Liu Xianyang knew that Chen Ping'an would often go to the stream alone, run, jump, soar, and fall.

The young man got closer to the opposite bank with each attempt, never getting tired of it.

Once, Liu Xianyang couldn't help but watch from a distance. When he saw that breathtaking scene, he felt that the dark-skinned youth at that time was somehow different from the fool he remembered.

When the young man leaped across the stream, he was like a snake-eating eagle that often circled the town's sky.