Ping'an Town

"Senior Brother Zhao, heading down the mountain again?"

"Eh, isn't this Junior Brother Qingyun? Why are you going down the mountain too?"

When they reached the mountain gate, the plump Qingfeng and the skinny Mingyue greeted Zhao Yifan with a hint of respect. When they spotted the somewhat familiar Li Qingyun, they could not help but be greatly astonished.

They were not only surprised that Li Qingyun had won Zhao Yifan's favor. They also felt that, after just a few days apart, Junior Brother Qingyun seemed like an entirely different person. He no longer had the pale complexion of a libertine drained dry by indulgence.

The afternoon sunlight poured down from above the towering mountain gate, illuminating the youth's upright figure like a spring tree and his handsome jade-like face. He carried an effortless grace and vigor, utterly unlike the frailty he had shown when they first met.

"Greetings, Senior Brothers!"

Li Qingyun smiled and nodded to Qingfeng and Mingyue, then followed Zhao Yifan, who was putting on a somewhat lofty manner, down the stone steps at a pace swift as the wind.

He felt that Qingfeng and Mingyue truly held little status in the temple. Elite disciples like Lin Wanjin and Zhao Yifan clearly thought little of them.

The stone steps stretched downward as white mist surged in from the mountains on either side.

Qingfeng and Mingyue's hushed conversation drifted faintly from behind them:

"As expected of a young master from Marquis Qinghe's Estate. He has money and connections. When he first came up the mountain, he looked like a hollowed-out wreck, but in the blink of an eye, he latched onto Senior Brother Zhao, got hold of spiritual medicine, and replenished all that depleted vitality!"

"When I first met Junior Brother Qingyun, I noticed that huge bundle he brought up the mountain. I even secretly hefted it—it was heavy as lead. As long as you have money, life in the back mountain is far more comfortable than in the mortal world!"

"Heh, but going down the mountain to slay demons and suppress ghosts isn't a pleasure trip. Let's hope Junior Brother Qingyun comes back alive!"

"Our work guarding the mountain gate, welcoming arrivals and seeing off departures, greeting everyone with smiles, is still much easier!"

"..."

Li Qingyun's ears twitched. Though they had already gone some distance from the mountain gate, he still heard every word clearly.

When he had first come up the mountain, that body of his had looked utterly spent in the eyes of the other disciples.

But times had changed. In only a few days, he had cultivated magical power, and his vitality, blood, and essence had almost fully recovered.

Mountain mist shrouded the path as Zhao Yifan offered kindly guidance while they walked.

"Once we're down the mountain, rent two fast horses in Ping'an Town at the foot of the mountain. We should reach Yinshan Town in roughly one or two days!"

"Mhm, Senior Brother has considered everything thoroughly!"

Li Qingyun raised no objections to Zhao Yifan's suggestion.

When disciples of shallow cultivation went down the mountain to travel or carry out missions, the vast majority relied on carriages and horses. Cloud-walking, flight through the air, and flying on magical artifacts might be dashing and swift, but without sufficient cultivation, they were impossible to manage.

With weak magical power, even if one had mastered an aerial technique, one would soon be exhausted. Moreover, low-level cultivators flying through the air were not much faster than beasts and horses.

The two moved swiftly and soon descended the stone-step mountain path.

Zhao Yifan's expression grew increasingly satisfied. Along the way, he deliberately tested Li Qingyun's endurance, continuously quickening his pace, yet Li Qingyun followed steadily every time.

Maple Mountain was vast, with two winding paths leading up it. One was reserved for carriages and horses, while the other was for pilgrims and visitors on foot.

At this time, many pilgrims who had finished worshipping the Dao Lord at Lingbao Temple were descending the mountain. Men and women, young and old, peddlers and laborers, noble ladies and young masters—all mingled in a bustling tide of people.

Lingbao Temple was the largest Daoist temple among the surrounding towns, its incense offerings flourishing. Every day, many commoners and villagers climbed the mountain to worship, seek Dao Talismans and medicinal pills, request demon-slaying and ghost-expelling services, pray for children, and more.

In this world, if ordinary folk wished to live a little longer, keeping House Soothing Talismans, Evil Warding Talismans, and the like at home was indispensable. Traces of transcendent forces such as Daoist arts lay thickly spread throughout the mortal realm.

At the foot of the mountain stood a rather prosperous town called Ping'an Town.

More than ten thousand people lived there year-round, while vast tracts of farmland had been reclaimed beyond the town. People of every sort traveled north and south through it, and all trades flourished.

Many of Lingbao Temple's stewards and elite disciples had acquired property in Ping'an Town, built grand residences, opened shops, even taken several wives and concubines, spreading branches and leaves until their children and grandchildren filled the hall.

The temple's upper ranks attached great importance to Ping'an Town's peace. Steward-level experts led disciples there year-round, maintaining order and sheltering the townsfolk.

The court of the You Kingdom had not dispatched officials or the like to Ping'an Town. The town could essentially be said to have formed on its own, though naturally it fell under Lingbao Temple's management. The court would not, and dared not, meddle.

When Li Qingyun and Zhao Yifan, clad in Daoist robes, appeared on Ping'an Town's streets, the townspeople repeatedly greeted them with respectful bows. The bolder residents even warmly invited them for tea and wine.

The town was prosperous. Taverns, tea houses, Dao Talisman shops, statue shops, weapon stores, apothecaries, inns, and carriage houses were laid out in neat order. Laughter and hawkers' cries rose and fell one after another, while the commoners' faces bore a measure of peace—something Li Qingyun had rarely seen in Qinghe County.

However, compared with Qinghe County's main city, Ping'an Town lacked entertainment venues such as brothels and flower boats, leaving merchants and travelers passing through from north and south somewhat regretful.

Li Qingyun also noticed that the doors, windows, courtyard walls, and other surfaces of the town's homes and shops were plastered with very fresh talismans to ward off ghosts and repel evil, brimming with the rich folk customs of this world.

There were three carriage houses in town. The one where Zhao Yifan went to rent mounts was sizable, even displaying several exotic-blooded beast horses outside its entrance as a draw for customers.

This carriage house, named Junye Hongkai, had been opened by an elite disciple of Lingbao Temple.

Zhao Yifan appeared to have a fairly good relationship with the owner.

He went inside and chatted idly with the middle-aged elite disciple for a while. The two laughed and talked with ease, exchanging all the customary pleasantries of human dealings.

There was a vast difference in the bearing of Lingbao Temple's disciples above and below the mountain. Once down the mountain, Zhao Yifan and the others clearly had less of that immortal, otherworldly air and several more shades of worldly polish.

A moment later, Zhao Yifan emerged smiling, leading out two rather magnificent old yellow-maned horses.

Li Qingyun had not gone into Junye Hongkai with him. Instead, he browsed the shops and street stalls across from the carriage house.

The sunlight was gentle and clear, and the atmosphere peaceful. He liked this rare touch of mortal life in the little town.

The sight before him could not help but remind him of the days he had spent in Qing Shui County, and he found himself strangely nostalgic.

"How much is this ancient bronze sword?"

"Fifty taels. Oh, so you're an esteemed master from Lingbao Temple. Forty taels, then. I can't go any lower! For this thing, I nearly got bitten by a zongzi!"

"Too expensive..."

At a wandering martial artist's stall, Li Qingyun came upon an unexpected little delight.

After haggling, he finally spent twenty taels of silver on a bronze short sword with an aged-looking hilt. Two or three ancient incantation characters were inscribed upon it.

The bronze sword looked old and worn, its surface mottled with rust. It also carried the chilling aura of something freshly unearthed from an ancient tomb.

At first, the three incantation characters had drawn his attention. Yet after picking it up and examining it, he discovered through the senses of his magical power that beneath the veiled chill was a faint yet distinct thread of Yang intent, subtly stirring the magical power of his Precious Furnace Qi Absorption Art.

This meant the sword could bear some of his magical power. It was no ordinary object.

The material used to forge it must have been somewhat extraordinary, mixed with at least a little special spirit iron.

Seeing that Li Qingyun was a disciple of Lingbao Temple, the wandering martial artist did not dare deceive him. He frankly admitted that a few days ago, he and his companions had explored an ancient tomb belonging to a noble from the previous dynasty.

They had deliberately dug open the grave in broad daylight, bombarded it with blazing fire and threw in talisman paper. In the end, they had slowly worn down three corpse fiends before taking the more valuable old objects from the tomb.

"Your sword is actually not bad."

Li Qingyun accepted the ancient bronze sword with a faint smile. His fingers suddenly curled and flicked, and the rust-spotted short sword immediately let out a low hum like muffled thunder.

Under the cleansing wash of lightning intent within his magical power, the sword's chilling aura was swept away completely.

The ancient sword instantly seemed as though it had been sharpened, gaining several measures of vigor and keen edge.