Just as Chen Ping'an was about to dash out of the courtyard, the black-clad girl suddenly called out,"Wait. There are things I need to tell you."
Pretending not to hear, he reached for the gate."Chen Ping'an!" Her voice rose sharply.
He had no choice but to turn back to the threshold. Her face was noticeably more flushed than before, though her voice still carried a raspy edge."First," she began, "we outsiders, though stronger in physique than the townsfolk, are otherwise no different from you. Second, no outsider may kill while in this place—regardless of reason. Violate this, and you'll be expelled with nothing to show for it. The cost is more than you can imagine. Third, remember this: in moments of crisis, we outsiders will act, even if we walk away with nothing, because staying alive is the most fundamental principle."
Chen Ping'an paused in thought."So you mean… we must strike quickly?"
The girl broke into a radiant grin. Her spirited face and sparkling eyes seemed to illuminate the entire room. She patted the green scabbard resting across her knees and nodded."Exactly! You must be fast—faster, the fastest! As for me, I wear both sword and blade. I aim to become the quickest in the world, whether in drawing sword or unsheathing blade!"
Then, in an instant, her heroic aura faded. She tilted her head like a playful neighbor girl and asked with a sly smile,"Hey, do you know how many realms this world contains?"
Chen Ping'an looked utterly lost. She saw his disinterest and instantly lost her enthusiasm. Waving him away, she muttered,"Just remember to buy the jar. I need it for medicine."
This time, Chen Ping'an's steps as he left were slower, more measured.
Not long after he left Niping Alley, the unlatched courtyard door creaked softly open. The black-robed girl opened her eyes. Moments before, she had been practicing a strange breathing technique. Now, her gaze fixed on the door as though facing a formidable enemy.
On the table, the snow-white sword sheath fell into utter silence—but it exuded an invisible killing aura, cold and fierce like a late spring frost, capable of biting into bone.
A maid named Zhi Gui strolled to the doorway, as casually as a neighbor dropping by. She didn't cross the threshold but craned her neck and peeked inside. She completely ignored the black-clad girl sitting on the small bed with a blade across her knees.
Only after a long look around did Zhi Gui finally notice her. With a face full of innocent curiosity, she asked,"Big sister, who are you? Why are you sitting on Chen Ping'an's bed? I don't remember him having any distant relatives."
Ning Yao cast the unexpected visitor a glance and closed her eyes again, ignoring her.
Zhi Gui wasn't offended. She merely shook her head and curled her lip with a look of disdain.
She glanced at the long sword with its white scabbard on the table. Deep within her eyes, a dark hatred mingled with fear flickered. Faint golden threads slithered like madness through her pupils.
After a brief hesitation, she raised one foot as if to step inside, but then drew it back. She coughed theatrically and called out,"I'm coming in now. You didn't say no, so that means yes, right? After all, this is Chen Ping'an's home. He and I have known each other for years... You don't understand me, do you? That's fine. We've got nothing to talk about anyway. I'm just checking if anything's needed here before we move out. A lot of things can be left behind for him. You've no idea how hard life's been for him."
Her voice droned on, casual and familiar, like childhood friends who had grown up together.
After entering, everything seemed to settle. Zhi Gui walked straight to the table and sat down on a stool, her gaze never straying far from that sword.
Meanwhile, the black-clad girl pulled out the three sheets of paper left behind by the young Taoist for Chen Ping'an. She studied them closely, hoping to decipher some hidden meaning. But after flipping through them twice, her efforts were in vain."These words," she sighed, "completely lack… soul."
She remembered clearly the eighteen characters etched in sword-strokes on the long wall back home, each one brimming with the force to suppress ten thousand demons. In her childhood, she loved to stand inside the sweep of one giant character and gaze into the distance.
So, when she saw the plaque with the four characters "Soaring to the Heavens," she felt nothing but disdain.
Zhi Gui turned slightly and straightened her slender back. She placed her hands neatly on her knees, as if trying to appear more like a noble lady. Facing the black-clad girl, she smiled sweetly and said softly,"My, you really are quite careless."
Ning Yao couldn't help but ask,"Who are you?"
Zhi Gui gave a playful gasp, patting her chest in feigned shock."Oh, so you understand our dialect!"
"Do you need something?" Ning Yao asked again.
Zhi Gui pointed at the long sword on the table."That yours?"
Ning Yao frowned and said nothing.
The girl remained silent, and Zhi Gui didn't care. She stood up and wandered to the corner, inspecting the cheap jars and bottles on the shelf.
During his time as an apprentice kiln worker, Chen Ping'an had wandered barefoot through all the hills and streams surrounding the town—digging soil, chopping wood, racing up and down the mountains.
If anyone was willing to teach, no matter how shallow or esoteric the lesson, Chen Ping'an would give it his all. How far he could go didn't matter; even if it did, it wasn't something he could control.
Old Yao, who taught him how to fire porcelain, was stingy with his real skills, but Chen Ping'an studied every word and move with earnest care.
Later, when Liu Xianyang taught him to craft wooden bows and fishing rods, he was just as diligent.
The boy next door, Song Jixin, who always had a sharp tongue, once said Chen Ping'an's way of living was like what the books call "doing all one can and leaving the rest to fate."
"Too bad," Song had said, "Chen Ping'an never had good luck. If that's the case, why not just eat, sleep, and wait to rot?"
Zhi Gui waved cheerfully as she left."Well then, take care and get some rest. If you need anything, just call out. I'm Zhi Gui—I live next door."
Ning Yao showed no expression.
As the maid left and passed through the courtyard, she muttered just loudly enough to be heard,"She's not that pretty anyway."
To which Ning Yao softly responded, almost without intent,"Such a vulgar name."
The courtyard door closed with a loud thud. Ning Yao once again shut her eyes to rest.
The strange girl's visit left her unmoved. But the town itself… she truly disliked it. She especially despised the cultivators who came here seeking fortune—full of schemes and petty greed. They called themselves immortals, but their so-called loftiness came only from standing on high, not from being high themselves.
In Ning Yao's heart, the Great Way should not be so small.
Stepping out of Niping Alley, the sunlight stung Chen Ping'an's eyes. He raised a hand to shade them and exhaled softly.
Then he began to jog. His steps were light, unburdened. Though he'd passed through street after alley, he showed no sign of weariness.
For a boy used to scaling mountains and wading rivers, this distance was nothing. The true hardship was charcoal burning in the mountains. A single dragon kiln could consume twenty to thirty thousand pounds of charcoal a year. In rainy seasons, gathering wood and tending fires on the mountain was pure misery.
He had nearly died once in the collapse of an unfinished charcoal kiln.
The boy's work over the years had been almost entirely physical. There was some skill involved, but once you got past the basics, it was all brute force.
Though he looked thin and frail, that was merely surface. His frame had been tempered like steel.