After the three left, Chen Ping'an, an outsider to the Shanhai Sect, was left sitting alone by the cliff, gazing into the distance.
At the Human World Sea Cliff Border, mountains met waters in every direction. A Green Shirt Carries Sword Distant Traveler; the clear breeze and bright moon were mine to govern.
Historically, the Shanhai Sect had changed its sect name, though only by one character, replacing "river" with "sea." Yet old cultivators of the Central Divine Continent still habitually called it the Shanhe Sect.
Unfortunately, he had not encountered that female patriarch today. Supposedly, she was Sect Master Nalan Xianxiu's Second-Generation Disciple. Otherwise, he might have learned which senior brother she truly liked.
Whether she liked Cui Chan or Zuo, or any other senior brother, her taste seemed quite good.
Chen Ping'an stood and waited for the Night Voyage Ship to arrive. In no more than the time it took to burn an incense stick, he could board.
At the cliffside, a lone figure in green stood solitary and forlorn.
Thinking of Sage of Ritual's earlier words, Chen Ping'an's thoughts drifted afar. Countless jumbled notions rose and fell, like wind passing over the Heart Lake and stirring ripples.
Those who flipped through books knew not the hardship of seeking scriptures, and often found the scriptures easy to read.
He remembered the cluster of balsam flowers outside Liu Xianyang's house. Once, after a torrential downpour, every ditch in the small town flooded, and the flowers were washed away. Chen Ping'an had found it regrettable, while Liu Xianyang, their actual owner, had not been particularly saddened. Gone meant gone, he had said. Gu Can had felt the greatest pity and heartache. All the way home, he kept blaming Chen Ping'an, saying that if they had known this would happen, they