The green bamboo suddenly straightened with a sharp snap—A'Liang had leapt to the ground, reaching out to pull the Earth Deity of Qidun Mountain to his feet, clicking his tongue with a grin.
"My luck in gambling is appalling, but yours is extraordinary."
The young Earth Deity's face was pale as snow, brows tightly furrowed. Though he had narrowly escaped death and managed to preserve the last half of his bamboo grove, his gaze fell upon the distant corpse of the white python, its skull shattered—his heart surged with conflicting emotions. For centuries they had lived side by side, though never peacefully. Despite their frictions, there had never been true bloodshed. Today, the serpent should have been on the cusp of its ascension, yet it had been struck down by a sword aura so fierce it obliterated its head. The shock this brought him was indescribable.
With a long sigh, the young deity bowed in dejection and murmured softly,
"As the senior says, I am but a petty man of vulgar nature—if not beaten for three days, I'll surely overturn the house. Today I've been well and truly thrashed, and I beg for your mercy. I am thoroughly frightened, my will crushed. Whatever orders you may give next, I shall obey them to the letter."
A'Liang didn't play coy. He glanced down at the empty green bamboo sheath and nodded,
"Pick a good, seasoned stalk of old bamboo for me—I need to craft a new blade. Consider it a gift from a friend. As for all this bamboo mysteriously scattered about the ground, what a waste it would be to leave it unused."
Lord Wei Bo's lips twitched, though he only dared to curse silently: A'Liang, you shameless fiend.
A'Liang rubbed his chin thoughtfully,
"My friend made a poor trade and ended up helping you win half a bamboo grove. A man ought to repay kindness with kindness. What do you say?"
Wei Bo forced a bitter smile.
"As it should be—heaven's will, plain and true."
Chen Ping'an, clutching the broken hatchet, ran toward the white python's corpse and hacked off one of the remaining wings—translucent, about the length of a human arm, cold to the touch like snow, and shimmering under the sunlight with a prismatic glow.
A'Liang had once said that apart from its gallbladder, the most precious parts of the white python were its wings—priceless, yet untradeable. The rest—its hide, sinew, and bones—while rare, paled in comparison.
Securing the hatchet at his waist, Chen Ping'an jogged back toward the bamboo grove, only to find the young deity bent over, sweat pouring down his face, yanking an entire bamboo stalk from the earth. The subterranean roots twisted and tangled, spraying dirt everywhere as the green bamboo was pulled free.
Upon spotting the straw-sandaled youth—infamous for "killing and looting with a golden belt"—the young deity instinctively swallowed hard, then gently returned the stalk to the ground. After searching carefully, he selected a segment of bamboo whip as thick as a child's arm, sighed, and looked up at Chen Ping'an with a forced smile.
"May I borrow your hatchet?"
Chen Ping'an handed it over. The young deity gripped it, took a deep breath, and severed the chosen piece of bamboo whip, then passed it to A'Liang.
A'Liang chuckled and shook his head,
"Shape it into a blade like my old one. Once we leave Qidun Mountain, deliver it along with that white mule of yours."
Wei Bo didn't dare refuse. When he returned the hatchet, he sighed in genuine admiration,
"A remarkably sharp blade."
Chen Ping'an accepted it, then offered,
"If you like it, I can give it to you. It's not much use to me now—it's no good for opening trails through the mountains."
Wei Bo laughed dryly.
"A gentleman does not covet another's treasure."
A'Liang chimed in cheerfully,
"Too embarrassed to ask for it outright? Then buy it! Honest trade, fair and square, right?"
Wei Bo's expression lit with false realization. He brushed dirt from his hands and said to Chen Ping'an,
"Any mountain dweller would know—if a bamboo grove grows too dense, it hinders the plants. Only with proper thinning can the grove thrive. I borrowed Senior A'Liang's blade just now to prune some excess stalks. My original plan was to build a small bamboo pavilion for rest and quiet contemplation."
He grew more fluent as he spoke,
"Now, since I've broken A'Liang's blade in the process, I must confess—I've coveted your hatchet since I first saw it. So how about this: I'll forge the blade, build the pavilion, and deliver them both. Though the pavilion may take a bit longer to complete. When the black snake travels north to Fallen Sword Mountain, I shall accompany it to ensure it causes no trouble, and let it carry the bamboo. Once I arrive, I'll find a serene spot amidst mountains and streams to raise your bamboo dwelling."
Chen Ping'an looked to A'Liang, who smiled and explained,
"The Bamboo Sea holds ten sacred stalks, each embodying one of the ten virtues. This grove descends from the 'Valiant Bamboo,' and thus, its descendants bear that same blessed essence. Building a pavilion from this grove will benefit any martial cultivator or warrior immensely during meditation and training."
Wei Bo quickly added,
"Indeed. All in this grove are descendants of that valiant bamboo. As the old texts say, 'Military might, like breaking bamboo, cleaves effortlessly after the first few joints.' The symbolism is clear. Cultivating within such a structure nourishes both spirit and soul."
Just as Chen Ping'an was about to speak, A'Liang flung an arm around his shoulders and steered him away from the grove.
"Too much kindness to refuse, the guest obeys the host. Let's go, let's go."
Chen Ping'an murmured,
"But the hatchet—"
A'Liang waved a hand,
"Give him the broken piece in the basket later."
As they left, he called back,
"Forget that unformed white python gall. It's too gruesome, dripping with blood. Let the black snake devour both the meat and gall. Even without its wings, that should be enough to grant it two or three centuries of cultivation—consider it a token of our goodwill. Just make sure it trains diligently once it reaches Fallen Sword Mountain."
He pointed into the air toward the dazed young deity.
"Take care of yourself."
The young deity stood at the grove's edge, watching them disappear into the forest. A mountain breeze rustled green leaves and red blossoms, carrying the fragrance of flowers and trees.
Handsome as a celestial spirit, the deity in flowing white robes now bore the green bamboo staff marking his station. The earlier shock, fear, and confusion were swept away by the wind, replaced by solemn dignity befitting a mountain god.
He looked around and murmured,
"Blessing and misfortune walk hand in hand—so it has always been. Thank you, Senior A'Liang, for unintentionally dispelling my doubts and breaking through my inner demons."
He closed his eyes. A warm smile spread across his lips.
"Since ancient times, sacred mountains have awaited sages. If no sage arrives, then let me become one."
When he opened his eyes, a pale golden earring had appeared beside his ear, swaying gently in the wind, casting the young deity in the image of a divine guardian spirit.
The two men retraced their steps to the mountain pool. Unlike their swift journey there, they now strolled side by side, lost in casual conversation.
"A'Liang, will the black snake truly devour the remains of the white python? I mean, they were..."