Chapter 200 (2): Crux of the Death Trap
After a while, the disheveled old man didn't stand up, and the young boy didn't leave either.
Cui Chan found this quite boring and meaningless.
...Even though the person downstairs was the teacher of his other half.
However, Cui Chan genuinely couldn't bring himself to feel interested in these matters. Moreover, he had to keep in mind the fact that the powerful swordsman could still return to the world one day. Otherwise, since his soul had already been split into two, he wouldn't mind giving eternal rest to the young boy from Clay Vase Alley who was already of no benefit to him.
Not only was Chen Ping'an an eyesore, but it was also possible that he would bring about many unexpected situations. Cui Chan was accustomed to having full control of the situation, so he naturally disliked this feeling very much. Whether the young Cui Chan's Great Dao would be detrimentally affected and fail to return to his peak had nothing to do with him.
They were ultimately two different people.
Sitting in the bamboo chair, the old man chuckled coldly and asked, "What's wrong? You're unhappy about me wantonly killing innocent people, so you want to seek justice for that person who died with regret?"
Chen Ping'an walked over to the corpse and squatted down. The young martial artist was already dead as a doornail.
"I don't know why you came here, and I don't know why he killed you either. So, all I can do for you is give you a burial. If I find out about your hometown in the future, I'll do my best to help you return home," Chen Ping'an said quietly.
He was saying this to the dead martial artist, and he was also saying this to the two people on the second floor of the bamboo building. However, it appeared more as if he were saying this to himself.
The disheveled old man suddenly roared with an expression of utmost fury. His expression was twisted and terrifying, and his aura was overwhelming as he questioned, "There are millions upon millions of good people in the world, yet there are fewer than a handful of pure martial artists as powerful as me! Just how many cultivators are there in the world? Do you think those who have reached the peak will differentiate good from evil?! Chen Ping'an, what are you learning from me? Fist techniques? Or how to conduct yourself as a person?!"
Chen Ping'an stood up and gestured to the little boy in azure, telling him to come over and help prepare a burial for the young martial artist. He then looked up at the second floor and replied, "Only fist techniques!"
The disheveled old man stood up and roared with hearty laughter. "Very well, very well! When do you want to start?"
Chen Ping'an silently entered the bamboo building and walked up the stairs.
The disheveled old man turned around and entered the room. "Call me if you need anything."
"Don't worry," Cui Chan replied as he turned around to walk toward the stairs.
"I won't need to!" he finished with absolute certainty.
The old man paused momentarily, but he quickly started moving again and strode into the room. He slammed the door shut.
Cui Chan stopped when he reached the staircase. Chen Ping'an was halfway up the stairs, and upon seeing the old imperial preceptor showing no signs of moving aside, he also stopped in his tracks.
The old man in Confucian robes peered down at the young boy and said with a faint smile, "When Jewel Small World was yet to shatter and fall, you were the most pitiful person in the small world. Your fortune was measly, and it was essentially as good as non-existent. As a result, you could only brush past all of the fortunes and fated opportunities in the small world. You were reduced to nothing more than bait for other people.
"Now that the mystical restrictions have disappeared, you're even showing some small signs of turning things around. So, if a large fated opportunity descends from the heavens, you have to make sure to catch it. Catch it as if your life depends on it. If your arms are snapped and your legs are broken, then use your mouth to catch it even if your teeth get shattered. No matter what, you have to fight to your last breath to obtain that fated opportunity!"
Cui Chan walked down and continued, "I'm telling you this for that old man. He's never been fond of speaking properly, and he always feels justified no matter what he says or does. In fact, this is fairly annoying. If it were me, I definitely wouldn't have come here to see you this time. In fact, it's no longer important whether you're alive or dead. You should thank my junior brother, Qi Jingchun, for this. Of course, if you're meek and fail to live up to expectations, then Qi Jingchun would have died for nothing."
After saying this, Cui Chan smiled with mixed emotions and remarked, "I have to concede that in terms of these matters, my foresight was better than Old Man Yang but worse than Qi Jingchun."
In the end, the two of them brushed past each other on the staircase, with each of them turning slightly to their side to let the other pass.
Just then, Cui Chan stopped for a brief moment and asked in a whisper, "Do you know what the most dangerous moment of your life was?"
The young boy slowed down at almost the exact same time.
"It was when that 'good-intentioned' person offered you a stick of tanghulu. If you had chosen to accept it back then, then everything would have gone up in a puff of smoke," Cui Chan revealed in a low voice.
Chen Ping'an was deeply stunned.
As if he were riding a galloping horse and looking at lights, many past events flashed through his mind.
Imperial Preceptor Cui Chan continued to walk down the stairs. When he walked down the final step, he suddenly vanished with a flash.
Chen Ping'an's training today involved both the tempering of his physique and his soul. Compared to yesterday, it could be said that his training was even more intense and torturous.
No matter how the young boy gritted his teeth and endured, he still fell unconscious several times. However, he was beaten awake by the disheveled old man, and after going through this process three or four times, he genuinely felt that this was more painful than death.
When the little boy in azure carried Chen Ping'an downstairs, he almost thought that this was his second time collecting a corpse today. He had a huge fright. Chen Ping'an's aura was already as thin and weak as a thread, and his breathing was even more labored and fragile than that of an ailing old man.n--OvelBIn
In fact, even Wei Bo was left with no option but to knock on the door on the second floor and remind the disheveled old man not to take things too far.
"There aren't many people in the world who have the right to judge me on how I teach fist techniques!" the disheveled old man snapped from behind the door.
Wei Bo angrily walked downstairs, and he couldn't help but feel worried about Chen Ping'an. Thus, he had no option but to keep an eye on the young boy's breathing as he lay in the tub of medicinal water, lest anything unexpected happen.
Late at night, the listless Chen Ping'an changed into fresh clothes and walked out of the bamboo building.
The little boy in azure was cultivating by the cliff, and the little girl in pink carried a small bamboo chair over.
Chen Ping'an sat down and patted her on the head. "I'm okay," he said with a smile.
The little girl in pink squeezed out a smile and copied the little boy in azure's obsequious manner of speaking. "Of course, that's because Master is the strongest."
Chen Ping'an made a face at her.
He finally got her to giggle in amusement.
Afterward, Chen Ping'an quietly rested on the chair and casually placed his hands on his thighs. His posture was lazy, and he wasn't purposely trying to sit in any certain way.
However...
Chen Ping'an finally radiated with an aura of indescribable intensity at this moment. Even though he didn't speak, there was a torrential true fist intent that was as vigorous as a tsunami flowing through his body no matter if he was standing, sitting, or lying down. This was a true fist intent that even fist cultivators would find dazzling and blinding!
The little girl in pink found this unfamiliar, and the little boy in azure felt this to an even more intense degree. It was because of this that he cultivated so earnestly every single day.
The most difficult and valuable aspect of Chen Ping'an's training sessions was the fact that the young boy's temperament and character weren't affected in the least regardless of how viciously and brutally the old man tempered his body and soul.
There was a notion that was applicable to cultivators both in the mountains and outside the mountains. When it came to teaching Dao, imparting knowledge, and answering questions, those above the status of renowned teachers would be sagacious teachers. The disheveled old man was undoubtedly a top-notch sagacious teacher in terms of martial arts.
Sagacious teachers didn't necessarily have to be the most powerful, and this was reflected by the fact that the patriarch of the Li Clan had viewed Zhu He, a fifth tier martial artist, as a sagacious teacher. However, things would truly be strange and shocking if the disheveled old man who locked himself in the room on the second floor of the bamboo building every day wasn't a martial arts grandmaster.
There exist more glorious views above the ninth tier. Who could utter such words? For example, Zhu He firmly believed that the ninth tier, the Mountain Summit Tier, was the End Tier and pinnacle stage of martial arts.
"Master, are you not very happy today?" the little girl in pink asked quietly.
"Are you referring to the act of Senior killing that person?" Chen Ping'an asked.
The little girl in pink nervously glanced at the second floor of the bamboo building, afraid that she would cause trouble for her master.
Chen Ping'an didn't offer a clear answer, and he instead recounted in a soft voice, "When undertaking that long journey back then, I once encountered a female ghost in a wedding dress at one place. She liked a scholar, and she liked him very, very much... I don't know how to explain this, but she ended up killing many innocent scholars who passed by afterward.
"I felt like she was wrong, and there was no way of getting around this fact. Moreover, this wasn't a normal and minor wrong that could be righted. However, what could I have done about this? I was looking after Li Baoping and the others at that time, so I couldn't have acted on a whim, could I? In any case, I was also contemplating whether my analysis and conclusion were too shallow. I didn't dare to say with certainty back then."
"Master, then what about now?" the little girl in pink asked in curiosity.
Chen Ping'an clenched his fists and placed them on his knees. His eyes were limpid, and he replied with a smile, "She was obviously wrong! The next time I see her, I feel like I still won't be able to reason with her. However, this doesn't matter. There's always a next next time! And a next next next time! There'll eventually be an opportunity!"
The little girl in pink smiled faintly.
Right now, her master was slightly different from the quiet and glum master of before. However, this was better.
Chen Ping'an silently told himself something in his mind.
I need to live on first.
————
Late into the night, a young Daoist priest with a lotus hat on his head trundled along with a single-wheeled cart that had a generic flag that all fortune teller stalls had. He walked along the official road that led to Locust Yellow County, and there was an incessant creaking sound as the wheel of the cart rolled along the road.
He was none other than Daoist Priest Lu, the young man who had worked as a shoddy fortune teller in the small town for many years.
An oriole sliced through the darkness of night and left ripples in its wake as if swooped down and came to a sudden stop on the young Daoist priest's shoulder. The bird affectionately nudged its head against the Daoist priest's cheek.
A dazzling smile spread across the Daoist priest's face, and he raised a hand and gently patted the oriole's small head. "Alright, I know, I know, you had to do a lot of hard work before. You had to peck all of those copper coins to inspect their scholarly fortune. However, Qi Jingchun was so impressive at this game of Go that there was no way around this. See, didn't the two of us still fail to calculate Qi Jingchun's trump card?
"Ah, this small Daoist priest accepts his loss. In any case, who told Teacher to be so biased? I'm clearly the worst at Go and divination, and I'm clearly the weakest when it comes to fighting with other people. Yet, in the end, all of the hardest and most unpleasant tasks were given to me. Isn't this purposely putting me in a tough spot?"
The young Daoist priest was like a mortal woman as he grumbled and complained. He didn't appear like an immortal at all.
The oriole suddenly pecked his earlobe.
As if reading the oriole's thoughts, the young Daoist priest roared with laughter and said, "How are immortals not humans?"
His eyes lit up, and he chuckled as he raised a single hand in front of his chest like a Buddhist monk. On a light-hearted note, it could be said that his action was out of place and comical. On a serious note, however, it could be said that his action was an act of rebellion against the Daoist orthodoxy.
The young Daoist priest lacked seriousness as he quietly murmured, "Oh, esteemed Buddha and Bodhisattvas, please watch over this small Daoist priest as he returns to the small town. Please allow me to accumulate wealth in peace, please definitely allow me to accumulate wealth in peace. Mhm, it was quite useful last time I prayed to you. In the end, I didn't need to fight to the death with Qi Jingchun, did I? So, please look after this small Daoist priest again? Unfamiliar the first time and familiar the second, we're all friends in the future!"
The young Daoist priest looked up toward the distance.
The small town was blanketed by the darkness of night, yet he could still make out the most minute details.
Regardless of whether it was Jewel Small World that had collapsed and lost the protection of the formation, or Jewel Small World from before that had prohibited all mystical abilities, it appeared exactly the same in the eyes of the young Daoist priest.
He extended a finger and lightly tapped his ancient-looking Daoist hat. It was as if he were mulling over a difficult problem that was giving him a headache.
He was a young Daoist priest by the name of Lu Chen.
He was the crux of the death trap that had guaranteed Qi Jingchun's death regardless of whether he left Jewel Small World or not.
However, Qi Jingchun had surprisingly taken a large step back. Upon seeing this, the young Daoist priest had also taken a small step back.