The Embroidered River exuded a delicate charm, its verdant waves gently undulating, unmarred by violent winds or surging tides. Though wide in expanse, it imparted a sense of grace and gentleness. The southbound vessel bearing Chen Ping'an and his three companions had two decks, occupied mainly by scholars in plain robes and traveling merchants. Li Baoping, ever unafraid of strangers, enjoyed mingling among the passengers with her small green bamboo bookcase slung over her back, ears pricked to catch snippets of their lofty conversations. Most literati, upon noticing the spirited and quietly poised little girl with her scholarly air, regarded her with kindly smiles before continuing their uninhibited chats, not deeming her presence an intrusion.
Meanwhile, Li Huai carefully managed the reins, riding a white mule in slow circles near the prow as if inspecting the frontier like an unassailable general. Strangely enough, the mule seemed willing to let only Li Huai ride it, which delighted him immensely. As for the matter of Wei Jin from the Snowfall Temple of Immortals possibly reclaiming the mule someday, Li Huai merely intended to demand a handsome reward from him—he would ask boldly, without restraint. These truly important matters, however, seemed to drift past Li Huai like whispers in the wind.
Lin Shouyi approached Chen Ping'an, settled down against the inner wall of the railing, and after a moment's hesitation, asked,
"Don't you want to know why Ah Liang said I've become a Qi cultivator? Or how I became one?"
Chen Ping'an paused in shaving bamboo slats with his knife, then smiled and said,
"Of course I want to know. But I didn't ask, worried it might trouble you."
Lin Shouyi looked somewhat disheartened. Among the three classmates, even a blind man could see that the only one Chen Ping'an truly cared about was Li Baoping. Between him and Li Huai, Chen Ping'an was clearly closer to the latter—whether it was because they both came from humble townsfolk backgrounds or due to his own reserved nature, Lin Shouyi wasn't sure. In truth, he rarely dwelled on such trivialities. Still, he couldn't help but feel a pang of frustration.
He asked,
"Do you even realize how powerful that little silver gourd is?"
Chen Ping'an casually glanced around before nodding and replying softly,
"Even Ah Liang said it's a rare sword-nourishing gourd. Naturally, it's both precious and uncommon."
Lin Shouyi said,
"Then do you know what opportunity you missed just because you refused to drink for the sake of your martial training? The only reason I was able to formally ascend the mountain and become a Qi cultivator—an immortal in the eyes of the common folk—was because I drank from that gourd time and time again. After drinking, I could feel every part of me strengthening: muscles, senses, stamina... At first, I struggled the most on this journey, but eventually, I could even keep pace with you. Didn't you notice?"
Chen Ping'an's fingers reflexively rubbed the cool green bamboo slats.
"After we left Iron Talisman River and neared Chess Mound Mountain, I noticed your steps had grown light."
Lin Shouyi remained expressionless.
"Oh. So you noticed early on."
Chen Ping'an grinned.
"Ah Liang is lazy. Though highly capable, he won't bother with the small things. As the one leading the way, I have to be mindful of everyone's stamina—know when to rest, pace the journey so we build endurance without exhausting ourselves. The road ahead is long; I'd rather we suffer less in the future."
Lin Shouyi studied his expression and posture, arms crossed, and scoffed without reason,
"I wouldn't believe that from anyone else."
Chen Ping'an raised the bamboo strip in his hand and asked with a smile,
"Getting more skilled at this. The last box will surely be the finest. Shall I give this one to Li Huai first, then? I'll make it smaller."
Lin Shouyi glanced at the proud figure atop the mule and shook his head.
"Forget it. Make mine first. I can endure his complaints."
Chen Ping'an laughed.
"Alright then, I'll make yours sturdier and use more cord. For a future Immortal like you—if you ever soar like Ah Liang—it better be secure enough not to fall apart midair."
Lin Shouyi sighed, feeling that although he wasn't slow-witted, keeping pace with Chen Ping'an's thoughts was truly difficult. Recalling a baffling matter, he asked,
"Why did you tell Li Baoping all about Zhu He and Zhu Lu not long after Ah Liang left Pillow Relay?"
Chen Ping'an's expression grew serious.
"Tell me, am I closer to Baoping, or to that father and daughter?"
Lin Shouyi replied irritably,
"Isn't it obvious?"
Chen Ping'an nodded.
"Then I had to let Baoping know what kind of people came from her household. I've more or less figured out Zhu Lu's nature. When Ah Liang set a trap for her, she didn't merely hesitate—she was hoping her father, Zhu He, would step forward again. At Chess Mound Mountain, yes, she endangered us all, but in hindsight, perhaps her desperation to save her father made her reckless. I was angry, sure, but not enough to reproach her to her face. But what she did in the corridor at Pillow Relay... that was unforgivable. If the reward is tempting enough, I don't think it'd only be Baoping she'd betray. She'd betray anyone."
Chen Ping'an's voice turned wistful.
"If she remains that way, one day she'll truly get her father killed. I don't want to see someone like Zhu He—who isn't a bad man—survive Red Candle Town, only to perish by his own daughter's hands. Why is it that people have fathers and yet do not cherish them?"
Lin Shouyi's expression turned cold.
"You think all parents in the world are good?"
Chen Ping'an replied with quiet firmness,
"I can't speak for others, but mine were good."
Lin Shouyi's face darkened, but Chen Ping'an's next words softened his expression.
"Zhu He is a good man. But he doesn't seem to know how to teach his child. When something is clearly right or wrong, why not say so? Why not teach it? I don't understand. Lin Shouyi, you're smart—do you know why?"
Lin Shouyi looked weary.
"Perhaps it's like the darkness beneath the lamp. Besides, not every parent can be summed up with 'parental love is universal.' Every household has its own scripture hard to recite. Chen Ping'an, your parents passed early—perhaps that's why you don't overthink these things. I mean no offense. If my words sting, don't take them to heart."
Chen Ping'an waved it off with a smile.
"Of course not."
Lin Shouyi glanced at the bun on Chen Ping'an's head.
"So the hairpin's gone? Not going to search for it?"
Chen Ping'an kept crafting the bookcase and shook his head.
"It's lost. You think someone as greedy as me would misplace something so valuable on his own?"
Lin Shouyi suddenly wore a strange look.
"Maybe Ah Liang got our names mixed up."
Chen Ping'an asked curiously,
"There's a reason behind that?"
But Lin Shouyi had already changed the subject, leaning forward and gesturing at the craftsman,
"Can you make this part of the box curve slightly? It's too square—too rigid. Some roundness would be more pleasing from afar."
Chen Ping'an nodded.
"I'll try. But if the end result looks odd, I won't take responsibility."
Knowing Chen Ping'an's word was law, Lin Shouyi grew anxious. He had high hopes for the box. His voice quickened,
"That won't do! This bamboo from Chess Mound Mountain is extraordinary—each piece used is one less. The box must be pleasing to the eye and sturdy. Chen Ping'an, slow down a bit when cutting! Take your time with the frame. Think it through—really think it through…"
Chen Ping'an continued slicing at great speed. Bits of green bamboo fell rapidly to the floor, only to be gathered into his basket one by one. Lin Shouyi watched in silent anguish. Seeing his worried expression from the corner of his eye, Chen Ping'an stifled a laugh.
"Maybe I really should save yours for last."
The boy's eyes flared.
"My name is Lin Shouyi. Do I look like someone who goes back on his word?"