A Cloud Soaring Flood Dragon ran from Jinping’s Maze Station to Ning’an. It stopped midway at a town called Zheluo. 

Since ancient times, the area of Jinping and Ning’an had been prized land, the roads smooth, the natural disasters few, and it hadn’t been divided up by big factories like Suling. You could pick up any job and make a living. Naturally Zheluo Town didn’t amount to being impoverished, but there was truly nothing special about it. 

This wasn’t a major transportation thoroughfare, and neither was it a center of trade. It had no famed scenic spots and no prominent families. It was like countless other towns near Jinping, the better part of its adults in the prime of life sucked away by the flourishing capital, making it ordinarily seem somewhat lonely. The Cloud Soaring Flood Dragon stopping here for half a ke actually brought some liveliness to the town. 

Short-haul Cloud Soaring Flood Dragons didn’t need to restock; no one knew why this train route had a stop here. 

Disembarking at Zheluo Town and going approximately ten li south, you would pass a big patch of paddy fields and lotus ponds, then come to a wild lake. The locals called it Crane Crossing Lake. No intellectuals came to write poetry or carve tablets, so it didn’t amount to much of a scenic spot. 

Fishermen’s songs floated among small boats for fishing boats and lotus seed gathering boats as they went home by starlight. There was only one boat with a black sail going against the current of homebound singing, heading towards the heart of the lake. The “person” rowing the boat wore a big bamboo hat, the face under it invisible. The force of each stroke of the paddle was extremely uniform. A wind blew over the surface of the water and raised the person’s hems, revealing interlocking gears under the short jacket… It turned out that this was a puppet of the “straw child” model. 

The small boat went all the way to the heart of the lake. There was a small island there, connected to nothing, with wetland and dense forest on it. The birds stopped over here in their migratory flights. 

Zhou Xi followed Pang Jian, who was dressed in civilian clothes, off the boat. He held a wooden box. He carefully wrapped his feet in spiritual energy. After taking several turns in the dizzying forest, his field of vision suddenly widened onto a beautiful vista. 

Zhou Xi’s eyes opened wide. He saw “Jinghua Village¹” carved onto a stone tablet at the entrance to a village; spiritual light shimmered over the writing. 

He took only one glance, and inexplicable comfort welled up in his heart. For a moment, all his cares disappeared. He forgot himself and the world. It was as if he had come to his final resting place. He was intoxicated. 

Without looking back, Pang Jian extended a hand and snapped his fingers in front of his face. 

Zhou Xi gave a start and came back to his senses. He quickly averted his gaze. “What…what’s on that?” 

“Nothing at all.” Pang Jian sighed. “Only the feelings left behind by the person who established the tablet. It’s just that that person is now a ‘person in the high heavens,’ so while it’s only a bit of writing, if those with a wavering will look at it, they will be somewhat influenced.” 

Zhou Xi heard his implication. His face flushed red. 

Pang Jian glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and involuntarily sighed to himself—going by mortal reckoning of age, His Fourth Highness, who was over thirty, had passed the age of maturity. By now he ought to have had a family, built a career, taken on the attitude of a patriarch. But never mind that cultivation had preserved his body in its adolescent form, he had spent all these years in Heaven’s Design Pavilion’s head office on the strength of his family background, playing the role of an attendant who had no need to experience trials, so his intellect had also permanently halted in the wet-behind-the-ears youngster phase. He hadn’t grown up at all after over a decade… He would have been better off being transferred to a lower level to go get some experience. 

Pang Jian said, “Were you in the same class as the Yongning Marquis Manor’s Xi Shiyong?” 

“Yes,” Zhou Xi answered, forcing himself to focus, “but then Xi-shixiong went into the inner sect, and I never saw him again. I was young and frivolous then, I didn’t know he was suffering at the hands of an evil cultivator, so I brought about some misunderstandings. Afterwards I didn’t have the chance to contact him again…though I hear he came down from the mountain recently. I’ll have to pay a visit if I get the chance.” 

You’re better off not visiting, Pang Jian thought. If you visit and find out that you have to call your former classmate “shishu,” I’m afraid you’ll hang yourself out of shame. 

He’d only caught a fleeting glance at the Yongning Marquis Manor that day, but Pang Jian knew that his perception had been right. That had been an ascended spirit—and certainly not one of those weak ascended spirits. 

Bai Ling was a half-demon, his constitution different from the average person’s. He could cultivate as soon as he was born, and could control inscriptions before he had established a foundation. After establishing a foundation, it went without saying—during the Zhao family’s mutiny, Pang Jian had had a chance to get acquainted with his eccentric methods. That half-demon was entirely up to going a couple of rounds with an ascended spirit master, but on that day, held down by the consciousness sweeping out from the Marquis Manor, he’d had no room to resist. 

But while that consciousness had been potent, it had also been unusually judicious—steady, precise, but not relentless. Unlike those “immortals from the mountain” who could make the Lingyang River rise by taking a couple of steps, he was reserved and concentrated; he had injured no one, and he virtually hadn’t impacted the surroundings. 

You could rely on your cultivation level to hack through a mountain, but to carve patterns into tofu with a sword…you had to have been thoroughly tempered in the mortal world. 

All these years, while Xi Shiyong had nominally been in seclusion on Flying Jade Peak, what had he actually experienced? 

Then there was also Zhou Ying suddenly tossing aside the Kaiming and the Luwu and entering the way of clarity. One came when the other left, as if they were swapping places; was there some connection here? 

For some reason, there was a tightness at the center of Pang Jian’s brow, as if his spiritual sense were revealing something… His mood was a little unsteady; he didn’t notice Zhou Xi’s expression behind him. 

Pang Jian’s careless question had brought forth many concerns weighing on the young walker in the mortal world’s mind. 

Zhou Xi had been born into the imperial family. He had known since he was little that he had the resources of the Zhou and Lin families behind him, his starting point higher than others’ ending points. Therefore, on entering the Latent Cultivation Temple, he had as a matter of course considered himself to be the “chief”…but it had all turned out to be a joke. 

He wouldn’t compare himself to Xi Shiyong, who had disturbed two great peak masters, brought out the Bell of Tribulation, and brought down half the Latent Cultivation Temple—that was beyond the scope of human capability. 

But among the remaining “normal” disciples, he had still been unable to stand out. His ninth younger sister, whom he’d never made direct eye contact with in his life, had smoothly opened her spiritual eyes before the first snow had fallen; she had obtained the qualifications to enter the inner sect’s Green Pool Peak in advance. 

Zhou Xi would never forget how he had felt when he heard the news in the dining hall early that morning. 

Then, before he could digest it, that very day, another one of the female disciples had drawn spiritual energy and opened her spiritual eyes… That had been a nobody from a side branch of the Zhao family. It was said that she had entered the Way even more calmly. It was clear she had been prepared and it was only that, out of respect for Green Pool Peak, she hadn’t wanted to steal the thunder of the Zhou family’s direct descendant and had tactfully allowed the ninth princess to get a step ahead of her. 

At the time, Zhou Xi hadn’t even gotten the feel for opening his spiritual eyes. After that, his whole period of cultivating at the Latent Cultivation Temple had become a muddle. In desperation, he had made a mediocre showing; the inner sect no longer had anything to do with him. He had even just barely scraped through Heaven’s Design Pavilion’s entrance exam. Then, the first day he had put on the blue robes, he had found that the “senior” taking them around to get to know the trivialities and procedures was the mute half-puppet who had dressed Xi Ping and done his hair. 

Even that chronic invalid third older brother who, in his eyes, could only “squabble over mundane power,” had turned around and become the master of the Kaiming Department and simply changed the structure of Great Wan’s…even the whole continent’s cultivation world; he had constantly been spoken of with fear by General Commander Pang for years. 

Bewildered by political changes, confused and helpless when it came to cultivation, Zhou Xi had at last discovered that being the “treasured hope of both the Zhou and Lin families” had been only his self-aggrandizing notion. The big clans looked upon their descendants as trash. They had only allowed him to grow up on account of his bloodline; they hadn’t given him any extra attention. 

Over a decade later, Zhou Xi had yet to find his place. 

Zhou Xi’s footsteps seemed to be trapped in the mud, growing more and more sluggish. He accidentally lost track of Pang Jian. 

“Woolgathering?” Pang Jian had turned back to find him. Forcing down his impatience, he said, “There is a labyrinth here left by a powerful senior. It’s easy to get lost. Follow me.” 

Zhou Xi quickly restrained his emotions and quickened his steps to catch up. 

Where the two of them passed, in a lotus pond in the wetlands, some wild lotus flowers suddenly began to move on their own. 

The small island where Jinghua Village was located, if drawn on a map, might at most take up a few mu, but inside, it had been expanded with mustard seeds into a spacious village that could hold over ten thousand people, on the same general principle as the living quarters in the rear courtyard of Heaven’s Design Pavilion’s head office in Jinping—only it was more “real” than that stage setting, so lifelike that it was impossible to see anything unnatural about it…or at least, Zhou Xi couldn’t see anything unnatural about it. 

This was the fake village where Heaven’s Design Pavilion’s walkers in the mortal world hid their names and played house with mortals. 

It was late now, but there were still lights burning on the stage in the village. People were making music. 

They were all neighbors. No one amused themselves at another’s expense. Anyone who wished to perform could go on stage. Some slightly older women were just enjoying themselves singing old Lingyang River tunes from over a decade ago. Children were riding fashionable bicycles back and forth beneath the stage. An old woman went by driving a horse-drawn cart, now a rarity in the outside world, hauling a cartful of freshly husked rice. When she passed by the stage, she hummed a couple of phrases. As she receded into the distance, so did the melody. 

Here, chickens, dogs, cows, and sheep all ran free. The only machinery was for lighting. Everyone wore the reserved style of clothes from previous years, unlike in Jinping now, where there were chemical dyes everywhere, so bright that they stabbed the eyes. 

Apart from the children, nearly all those permanently residing in Jinghua Village were married women. Therefore, the surroundings were incredibly clean. 

With Heaven’s Design Pavilion for backing, they had no need to worry about their livelihoods; they could do whatever they liked. When their husbands weren’t on leave, they could happily and harmoniously idle away the time with their sisters. It was a true paradise. 

But when the people in “paradise” saw Pang Jian, they were all somewhat nervous. When Pang Jian and Zhou Xi entered, the singing and laughter on stage came to a halt. Countless gazes fell on the two of them. Zhou Xi had never in his life been stared at by so many women. His movements nearly became unnaturally stiff. 

The old woman driving the cart pulled it to a stop and waved a hand towards the others. She stepped forward somewhat cautiously to give a salute. Forcing a smile, she said, “You’re here, Lord Pang, and you’ve brought a handsome young fellow with you today, quite unfamiliar. Where is that tight-lipped little Young Master Xi who usually comes with you?” 

Both Pang Jian’s tone and his bearing were very subdued. “Xi Yue’s older brother has come home. He has things to do at the manor right now, so he’s taken leave.” 

“Good, that’s a happy event.” The old woman nodded repeatedly. “His brother is safe, his mother and father are both living, that’s the good life… What brings you here today?” 

Zhou Xi acutely noticed that as soon as this question was spoken, many women looked concerned. 

Pang Jian, keeping to himself, said, “I came to deliver my colleague Wang Run’s things…” 

Hardly had he spoken than there was a loud noise. One of the women playing accompaniment on stage abruptly got to her feet, accidentally knocking over her qin stand. 

She was slightly older, with an oval face and willow leaf brows, still very beautiful, like a delicate flower in full bloom that had suddenly met with a rainstorm. First she was frozen for a long moment. Then, as if refusing something, she began to shake her head desperately. The woman playing the pipa next to her quickly put her instrument aside and came forward to embrace her. The women who had just been singing came back to their senses and huddled around, tightly encircling the woman with the oval face, as if that could keep Pang Jian and Zhou Xi out. 

Pang Jian had come to return “last effects”—it wasn’t that this woman’s walker in the mortal world husband had unfortunately died in the line of duty; quite the reverse, he had taken a step forward, received the favor of the inner sect, established a foundation. 

After establishing a foundation, your Way of the Heart settled. No matter what the way, associating long-term with a mortal would harm your cultivation…and the mortal couldn’t take it, either. A half-immortal could still have children, but at the established foundation level, if they stayed with a mortal, the mother and child dying together would be getting off easy. 

So, as far as the wives and children in Jinghua Village were concerned, a person who established a foundation was “dead.” During the brief life of a mortal, these established foundation cultivators would never set foot in Jinghua Village again. 

Afraid of their emotional state being unstable, they often didn’t come in person to say goodbye, so Pang Jian was the “crow delivering bad tidings.” 

Pang Jian had originally taken a step towards the stage. Seeing the situation, he tactfully retreated, indicating that Zhou Xi should give the wooden box to the old woman driving the cart. “I won’t go over and make myself offensive. Please pass this on, Auntie Song.” 

After some more empty words along the lines of “Contact Heaven’s Design Pavilion at once if anything happens,” Pang Jiang also felt uncomfortable, so he didn’t delay any longer. He called Zhou Xi over and prepared to leave. 

Just then, all of a sudden, the encircled woman said sharply, “Wait, Lord Pang!” 

Pang Jian paused slightly. 

With a sob in her voice, the woman asked, “Did he have anything to say to me…to the two children?” 

Pang Jian didn’t respond. He turned and bowed deeply, almost to the ground, startling Zhou Xi so badly that he jumped a step sideways—he’d never seen General Commander Pang humble himself like this, not even in front of inner sect peak masters. 

The woman cried, “A mortal’s life only lasts a few brief decades, exalted. Don’t you people have the patience to wait just a few decades?” 

Zhou Xi opened his mouth—walkers in the mortal world who could establish foundations were all exceptional talents among their peers. It was no easy matter to refine your spiritual bones in the mortal world. Each one of them was around a century old. If you established a foundation too old, it would impede your cultivation in the future. Even if the walkers in the mortal world could live several more decades without their appearances changing, it would greatly alter their status and future prospects. 

With a look, Pang Jian stopped him from justifying. Humbly, he said, “Sister-in-law, I apologize on his behalf.” 

His apology was worthless. The woman began to wail, making all the others’ eyes redden. There was faint resentment in their gazes. 

Amidst Zhou Xi’s discomfort, Pang Jian faced all that resentment directly, backing up as the two of them left Jinghua Village together. 

Zhou Xi couldn’t resist saying, “General Commander…” 

Pang Jian waved a hand. “Walkers in the mortal world marrying mortals is a violation of sect rules to begin with. As the general commander of Heaven’s Design Pavilion, I did not fulfill my duty and turned a blind eye to it. Now there is no way to resolve the situation. I bear the blame for it. Kneeling or kowtowing to them isn’t much. In the future, I won’t permit anyone else to bring families to Jinghua Village.” 

Zhou Xi assented and couldn’t resist looking back again. Behind them, the words “Jinghua Village” slowly blended into the labyrinth and became invisible. The sound of crying seemed to linger in his ears. Zhou Xi’s vision blurred; it was as if a small lotus flower seal had flashed in front of his eyes. He thought that he was too tired, rubbed his eyes, and didn’t think anything of it. He followed Pang Jian. 

Meanwhile, Wen Fei, gossiping with Lin Chi on Moon Plated Peak, suddenly froze. 

Wen Fei’s eyes were excessively vivacious. It was hard to say whether they were peach blossom eyes or fox eyes. There was usually no sense of propriety about them. Now though, his expression growing grave out of nowhere made a person nervous to see it. 

“What’s wrong?” said Lin Chi. 

Wen Fei removed the sentence he had gotten halfway through from his fan. The fan shut and opened. The wild writing on it had turned into a scene from the mortal world—what it showed was precisely Jinghua Village at the heart of Crane Crossing Lake. 

It was the dead of night, the shadows of cranes flickering, the lotuses in the wetlands undulating in time to the ripples. There was no sign of anything unusual. 

Lin Chi saw that he didn’t mean to hide it, so he craned his neck to take a look. “This is…” 

Wen Fei wrote carelessly: The place where Heaven’s Design Pavilion settles their wives and children. I sealed the entrance to the village… Strange, I thought something had entered just now. I’m a little uneasy. 

Before Lin Chi could work out why Heaven’s Design Pavilion would have “wives and children,” Wen Fei’s consciousness reached out following the Jinghua Village stone tablet he had left behind. The stone tablet at the village entrance glowed with fluorescent light, wrapping the whole small village in mist. 

Wen Fei’s consciousness scanned the whole village. He didn’t find anything out of the ordinary, but he did get an earful of grievances and weeping. As soon as he heard, he knew what had happened. He couldn’t bear to watch. He sighed, then hurriedly averted his gaze. 

Just after his gaze had left, in a small brook in the village, the center of a lotus flower in full bloom suddenly tumbled down. 

A child’s ball accidentally rolled into the brook. He hopped and skipped down to get it, just in time to see that lotus without a stamen turn and grow a tiny human head where the stamen had been. 

The child gazed at that head in astonishment. The person at the heart of the flower smiled and raised a finger towards him. “Shh—”

In the boy’s clear eyes, two small lotus seals appeared. With a plop, the ball he had just picked up rolled once again into the mire. 

“Papa…”

“Papa's knife’s in need of honing…” 

The child crooned a line in oddly-accented Wan language, climbed out of the brook, and ran into a pile of children who had gone to sleep for the night. 

After a moment, like an infection spreading, one child after another began to recite with him. 

“Papa's knife’s in need of honing, Mama's got the water boiling. Fat white baby’s lost his smock, lying laughing on the block. My bones are soft and tender too, my flesh is sweet and good to chew, toss some red peppers in the stew—heehee…heehee…” 

At the bottom of the Sea of Stars, the star sand scattered everywhere suddenly began to roil. 

Xi Ping, blindfolded, frowned. He cocked an ear and said, “What’s wrong?” 

The Dignitary of Fate’s blindfold fell. He saw the scattered star sand begin to gather in one place, forming a whirlwind that came whistling towards the two of them. The Dignitary of Fate and Xi Ping moved aside to make way, one to either side. The whirlwind cut off a lock of Xi Ping’s hair. 

In Jinping, Zhou Xi said goodbye to Pang Jian as though nothing were the matter, then went to stand his shift at an Azure Dragon Tower. When he turned away, a peculiar smile appeared on his face.