A Meeting with a Fourteen-Realm Cultivator

Watching Little Millet grin like a fool with all her might, Pei Qian felt rather helpless. Lucky for you, you're Luopo Mountain's Right Guardian. Otherwise, forget Chen Lingjun—even a prized student like Cao Qinglang would be in for a terrible day tomorrow.

Zhou Mili called out her farewell and sprinted away. She made a trip to her room, and when she returned, she brought a large bag of sunflower seeds and a small bag of dried creek fish.

Chen Ping'an stood by the window and glanced at the sky. Then he pinched out a Talisman for Lighting the Lamp, which slowly burned with no difference from the previous two talismans. Next, he formed a sword incantation with two fingers and silently recited the word "rise." A strand of Golden Sword Qi swam like a flood dragon, finally linking head to tail and drawing a great golden circle within the room. It formed a forbidden magical ground of golden Thunder Pool, its talisman-array phenomena nearly becoming a Small World.

Compared with Pei Qian's earlier Follow the gourd to draw the ladle with her Iron Staff on the street, Chen Ping'an's deployment of the formation was clearly far smoother and more natural, more in accord with Dao intent.

A phrase immediately popped into Pei Qian's mind: Heaven's Dao was deep and mysterious.

Back when she had learned fist techniques in the Bamboo Building, the old man teaching her boxing often had one phrase on his lips: "Your aptitude is far too poor, Pei Qian. You aren't even as good as your master. There's not the slightest bit of interest in teaching you."

Even after Pei Qian became the Zheng Qian whose name shook the world, when she returned to Luopo Mountain and once exchanged fist techniques with the old cook, Zhu Lian