Chen Ping'an did not go directly to Liu Xianyang's residence but first returned to Clay Bottle Alley to speak with Ning Yao about Liu's intentions. After hearing him out, Ning Yao refrained from offering any opinion, merely stating, "This is a matter between you two. I only accept payment to dispel misfortune. If Liu Xianyang can evade his peril without my intervention, I shall gladly return the three bags of refined copper coins." Chen Ping'an insisted it was not about the money, to which Ning Yao replied coldly, "So you want to talk feelings with me? Have we really come to that?" Chen Ping'an was nearly choked by her words and had no choice but to crouch at the doorstep, scratching his head in awkwardness.
Ning Yao glanced at the pastries Chen Ping'an had brought—modest yet tasty glutinous jujube cakes alongside the pricier Dewdrop Buns—clearly the boy's earnest gesture of hospitality. For once, the young woman felt an unusual softness mixed with guilt, sensing she had been somewhat ungracious. Taking shelter and dining at others' homes, she resolved that even if she could not greatly assist in his troubles, she would not add to his burdens. She then asked, "Could it be that Liu Xianyang was genuinely threatened near the blacksmith's shop, forced to sell that dark-scaled armor? Perhaps the shop harbored loyalists from the Four Surnames and Ten Clans, who secretly taught him a harsh lesson?"
Chen Ping'an pondered briefly before shaking his head. "No. Liu Xianyang is not the sort to yield under threats. When I first met him, even after being beaten to the point of coughing blood by the men on Fortune Street, he never uttered a word of surrender. He bore it all and nearly was beaten to death. His nature has never changed in all these years."
Ning Yao pressed on, "Hot-blooded youth, valorous but reckless, who prize their promises above life itself—such alleyway knights are not rare. I have encountered many on my travels. But when great profit beckons, when temptation takes a new form, can Liu Xianyang truly hold to his principles?"
Chen Ping'an fell silent in contemplation before his eyes hardened with resolve. "He won't squander what others give him. His affection for his grandfather runs deep. Unless it's exactly as he said—that his grandfather, on his deathbed, instructed him that the treasured armor could be sold but never at a low price, and that the sword manual must remain with the Liu family to be passed down."
Ning Yao nodded. "From what I know, the armor is of respectable quality but not exceedingly rare. The sword manual, however, is something the Zhengyang Sect has coveted for a long time and even sent two men to seek it here. They clearly regard it as a prized possession. So selling the armor but keeping the sword manual is a sensible decision."
Chen Ping'an gave a slight nod. Ning Yao, stroking the green scabbard with a steely gaze, said, "To be safe, I'll accompany you to Liu Xianyang's home to first deal with that woman. Since Liu himself said he wanted to sell it, moving the chest with the armor won't be a problem. Afterwards, we'll go together to the Ruan family's shop and see Liu Xianyang to understand his true intentions. If this is truly his grandfather's dying wish, then we need not meddle further. Every family has its own difficult story; if it's none of our business, better not to interfere. If it's not, then let him speak his grievances. At worst, I'll retrieve the chest myself."
Chen Ping'an worriedly asked, "Miss Ning, is your health all right?"
Ning Yao scoffed, "If it were the Mountain-Moving Ape of Zhengyang Sect, I'd likely be roughed up. But as for that woman, in this small town, I can handle her with one hand tied behind my back."
Curious, Chen Ping'an inquired, "Mountain-Moving Ape?"
Ning Yao waved it off. "An ancient monstrous beast lingering in this world—a giant ape as big as a mountain. Legend says it can uproot entire mountains and carry them away. But these are just rumors; no one has ever truly seen it. Zhengyang Sect has been patient for centuries but is profoundly powerful. Though their rank on Dong Baoping Continent is not high, they are not to be underestimated. It's best if we avoid conflict with them. If conflict arises…"
Chen Ping'an cautiously asked, "What then?"
Ning Yao rose, drawing her blade about an inch from its scabbard, casting a look of disbelief at the straw-shod youth. "What else? We kill them!"
Chen Ping'an swallowed hard. The youth then hoisted his basket on his back, accompanied by the young woman who re-donned her hood and sheathed green blade, as they slowly made their way toward Liu Xianyang's ancestral home. Ning Yao glanced at the youth's basket and asked, "Why so little today?"
Chen Ping'an sighed, "Ma Kuxuan—grandson of Granny Ma from Apricot Blossom Alley, about my age—has changed completely. He says the town's feng shui has shifted, and the stones in the streams can no longer retain their 'qi.'"
Ning Yao's expression grew grave. "He's right. This town is on the verge of great change. You'd best settle this matter quickly and leave the town. Even if you return later, it's better than staying through the upheaval."
Chen Ping'an, no foolhardy stubborn soul but one who had lived alone since childhood, understanding the vagaries of human warmth and the priorities of life, nodded with a smile. "I will. As soon as Liu Xianyang and Master Ruan have shared the tea of apprenticeship, I'll depart immediately. Hopefully, by then, Master Ruan will have agreed to forge your sword."
Seeing his joyous face, Ning Yao puzzled, "Something unrelated to you makes you this happy? I call you a soft-hearted fool, and you don't even disagree?"
Perhaps feeling some camaraderie now, Chen Ping'an spoke without reservation, boldly asserting, "Liu Xianyang, Gu Can, and you, Miss Ning—out of everyone in the world, I only care about these three. How could I be a soft-hearted fool?"
Ning Yao smiled warmly. "And among those three, where do I rank?"
Chen Ping'an answered earnestly, blushing, "For now, third."
Ning Yao removed her sword, casually holding it, and lightly tapped the youth's shoulder with the scabbard, her smile both sincere and teasing. "Chen Ping'an, you owe me your life."
Perplexed, Chen Ping'an asked, "Don't you find boiling medicine tedious?"
Ning Yao paused, understanding his meaning. "Chen Ping'an, I realize you'll do quite well even beyond these lands."
Chen Ping'an, humble, replied, "Just as well as now is enough."
Ning Yao said nothing further, gently swinging the green blade in her hand like a rustic maiden with a flower branch.
At the corner of Liu Xianyang's alley, a shadow suddenly darted forth. Ning Yao nearly drew her blade but restrained herself just in time. It was only a yellow dog affectionately circling Chen Ping'an. The youth bent down to stroke its head, then smiled and said, "That's Laifu, from the family next door to Liu Xianyang. Been many years. It's timid—used to follow us on mountain trips but could never catch hares or pheasants. Liu always said Laifu was worse than a cat—like the one Ma Kuxuan's family has, which often brings home wild chickens and snakes. Laifu's old now, nearly ten years."
The youth crouched again, tenderly caressing the dog's head. "Old age comes for all, right? Don't worry, once I make my fortune, you'll never go hungry."
Ning Yao shook her head, unable to share such sentiment. Though she had traveled far and wide, witnessed all manners of people—lofty immortals, ordinary townsfolk, privileged scions, wind-riding deities—and countless joys and sorrows. There were Buddhist pilgrims barefoot in stormy nights chanting sutras with firm steps, impoverished scholars at crumbling temples painting delicate eyebrows on fox spirits, young Taoist masters in warfields chanting for lost souls, diligent officials suppressing corrupt shrines while pleading for their people, and elderly loyalists mourning fallen lands with tear-streaked faces.
Yet now, she saw another scene: a lonely youth from a humble alley, carrying a basket and fish trap, stroking an old dog's head, filled with hope for the future.
Not long after they arrived at Liu Xianyang's house, a knock came. Chen Ping'an and Ning Yao exchanged a glance before Chen Ping'an opened the door. Ning Yao remained at the threshold but glanced back once at the sword resting quietly on the cabinet.
The visitor was Lu Zhengchun, naturally accompanied by a lady and two loyal servants. His face was kindly as he softly asked, "You are Chen Ping'an, friend to Liu Xianyang? We have come to move the chest. Liu Xianyang should have informed you. Please accept this bag of money with confidence. Besides this, our lady has promised to fulfill all the terms agreed with Liu Xianyang without fault."
Chen Ping'an accepted the money and stepped aside. The graceful lady entered first, Lu Zhengchun and the servants following. She opened the red lacquered chest placed in the main hall, crouched to caress the ugly armor within, her eyes briefly clouding with longing and desire—emotions she carefully concealed.
Ning Yao, standing silently nearby, felt a prick of unease as she observed the woman's expressions.
Chen Ping'an whispered to Ning Yao, "The woman is Lady Lu from the Zhengyang Sect. They have been waiting long for this chest. I worry what trouble this will bring."
Ning Yao nodded. "This is only the beginning."