Zhengyang Mountain, Guo Yun Lou.
The rain had passed, the sky had cleared, and the air was fresh.
Beyond the mountain, reeds were blooming in clumps at White Egret Ferry, and the rice in the terraced fields had turned golden.
Farther away, several peaks of Zhengyang Mountain seemed rather busy with construction and repairs, patching things up here and there.
The familiar Jia-character room had no guests. Chen Ping'an went inside, carried a wicker chair out to the Viewing Platform, and sat gazing toward Qingwu Peak, the nearest peak, gently shaking the Sword Nurturing Gourd in his hand.
Once certain things began, they were hard to give up—liking someone, for instance, or drinking.
At drinking tables, Chen Ping'an had seen every shade of human feeling. Wine could make the taciturn talkative and those who usually spoke loudly murmur under their breath. It could make someone smile through tear-blurred eyes without even realizing it, or turn an old man into a child.
He wondered what Chief Zhou would be like after reaching the Savage World, and how big a stir she would cause.
One willow leaf could slay an Immortal.
As for the Natal Divine Ability of Jiang Shangzhen's flying sword, Chen Ping'an had never asked.
Cui Dongshan had mentioned it in passing. Chief Zhou's flying sword was exceptionally high-grade, with an edge none could match. Even at the Summer Palace, it could easily have been rated first class: over mountains and ridges, across rivers and streams, through any armor in its path.
More surprisingly, Ni Yue Rong, who should have gone to the Great Li Central Mountain Region, was still at the inn, apparently checking the accounts.
Sensing the unusual disturbance in the surrounding energies, Ni Yue Rong immediately put down the ledger that made her heartsick the longer she