Chapter Thirty-Four: The Unsolved Mystery

As luck would have it, Su Ling, known for his Martial God demeanor, was Chen Pingan’s neighbor. With this double insurance in place, Lu Chen resolutely decided to deliver the young woman here.

Just as the Daoist Lu Chen raised his hand, prepared to knock on Chen Pingan’s door, the door creaked open. Chen Pingan looked at Lu Chen with a blank expression.

"Uh..." Lu Chen was momentarily speechless. He turned his head to glance at Su Ling, who was standing to the side and observing the ink-clad swordswoman on the handcart with great interest, and began signaling frantically with his eyes.

*Aren't you Chen Pingan's neighbor? Hurry up and explain this for me!*

Su Ling showed no signs of responding to Lu Chen’s silent plea, finding the ink-clad swordswoman on the cart far more interesting. After all, looking at a stinking man was nowhere near as amusing as a fragile beauty wrapped in a faint fragrance.

"Hmph! Such is the way of the world—forgetting righteousness at the sight of beauty!"

Daoist Lu Chen, helpless, could only offer an awkward, bitter smile to the young man before him. "This... young lad, do you want a wife?"

"Ah, no, that’s not it. The humble Daoist observes that you and this young lady share a profound bond, so I have come to act as a matchmaker, playing the role of the Old Man under the Moon..."

Even Lu Chen felt that his words were inscrutable and unintelligible to ordinary people. His expression contorted into a mask of agony as he struggled to maintain his composure.

"Do you need my help?"

Chen Pingan first looked toward Su Ling, who stood by the handcart behind Lu Chen, and nodded with a smile as a greeting. Then, he turned his calm gaze back to Lu Chen. After a moment of silence, Chen Pingan stepped aside, opening a path and gesturing for them to enter.

"Splendid!"

Seeing this, Daoist Lu Chen was desperate to toss the young woman from the cart into Chen Pingan’s house immediately. But before he could push the cart inside, just as the wooden wheels caught on the threshold, a subtle, piercing sound cut through the air.

A jade-hilted sword, white as snow, traced a clear silver line through the air. Its sharp, unstoppable tip pressed directly against the fragile neck of Daoist Lu Chen, as if it might pierce his jugular at the slightest provocation.

This spirit sword, which had suddenly appeared and manifested the ability to fly through the air even under the suppression of Heavenly Law, was naturally the life-bound sword of the ink-clad swordswoman.

The reason the life-bound sword resisted so strongly against Lu Chen bringing its master into Chen Pingan’s home was that it had just realized how incredibly shabby Chen Pingan’s living conditions were. Its master was a future great sword immortal; she could not possibly reside in the most dilapidated house in the small town!

Moreover, there was a martial artist standing nearby—a man who seemed to have designs on its master—keeping a watchful eye. The sword knew that even using its full strength, it hadn't been able to scratch the skin of this martial artist earlier. It had even been sent flying far away by a massive counter-shock, and only now had it returned to its master’s side, trembling...

Based on these two points, the life-bound sword absolutely refused to let its dying master be placed in Chen Pingan’s home for recovery.

Daoist Lu Chen was startled by the sudden appearance of the flying sword. He swallowed hard, his lips twisting into a miserable, awkward smile. "This... little sword, the lady on the cart is nearly dead. A life is at stake here..."

Lu Chen meant to imply that there was no time to worry about such trivialities; if they delayed any longer, the ink-clad swordswoman might miss the best window for treatment.

The life-bound sword hesitated for a moment, its long, narrow body vibrating slightly. Then, it moved its sharp tip away from Lu Chen’s neck and pointed it toward Su Ling, who had been watching the spectacle for a long time. It was as if the sword were saying that it had its eyes on Su Ling, and if he dared harbor any evil intentions or attempt to tarnish its master’s purity, it would protect her honor with its dying breath.

Su Ling was naturally unaware of the sword’s internal monologue, but had he known, he would have merely smiled. The spirit of the sword was truly like a half-grown child, and he couldn't help but feel a playful urge to tease it.

"Chen Pingan, have you thought this through?"

Just as Chen Pingan was helping push the cart into the courtyard, Su Ling’s sudden voice drifted over. Chen Pingan’s movements stiffened. He looked at Su Ling with a confused gaze, sensing that there was more to the question than met the ear.

"Yes, I’ve thought it through. Daoist Lu gave me two peace talismans, and I don't want to owe him that favor. Besides, this girl looks very beautiful."

"A girl this pretty—only a fool wouldn't save her..."

Chen Pingan scratched his head in his characteristically honest way, then turned to push the cart into the front yard of his earthen house.

"..."

Su Ling was silent. A moment later, he stepped forward to help, which left Chen Pingan pleasantly surprised.

"Brother Su, there’s no need for you to do this..."

At these words, Su Ling frowned, casting a thought-provoking glance at Chen Pingan, who was trying to stop him. The look left Chen Pingan feeling completely bewildered.

"What is it?"

"Well, well, Chen Pingan. She’s only just arrived, and you’re already in a hurry to protect your wife?"

Su Ling’s teasing tone reached Chen Pingan’s ears, causing his eyes to widen and his mouth to hang open, unable to utter a single coherent word.

"...Brother Su, please don't tease me. It’s not because of that..."

Seeing Chen Pingan’s clumsy explanation, Su Ling caught his true meaning and felt a sudden warmth in his heart. The reason Chen Pingan hadn't wanted him to help was simply because he didn't want to implicate him.

After all, it was obvious to anyone with eyes that this girl who had suddenly appeared on their doorstep was a massive source of trouble. Although Chen Pingan wasn't the sharpest, he knew he couldn't drag Su Ling—who had always been kind to him—into his mess. If trouble were to come knocking, it would only find him, a boy with nothing, and would not touch Su Ling next door.

"...How is my strength?"

"Why ask that, Brother Su?"

"Just answer me."

"...Fearsome. Powerful. More powerful than anyone I’ve ever met—well, except for Master Qi..."

"That settles it, then. No matter how big the trouble is, I’ll crush it with one punch!"

"..."

"What? Do you still have something to say?"

"No..."

"Alright, off you go."

"Right..."

Chen Pingan touched the painful, bruised lump on his head—a mark left by Su Ling’s fist—but he felt no anger. Instead, a sense of warmth, no less profound than familial affection, welled up in his heart.

Clutching the prescription Lu Chen had hastily scribbled, Chen Pingan turned and hurried toward the apothecary at the east gate, ready to fetch the medicine and save the girl.

On the other side, Daoist Lu Chen, who had been watching the show for quite some time, seemed to have something to say.

"...This young and promising prodigy, I have already divined the answer to the question you asked a while ago."

"Oh?"

Su Ling’s eyes widened in surprise. He turned to look at Lu Chen, who was assuming the posture and bearing of an enlightened master, and felt a flicker of curiosity.

"Tell me in detail."

"Hmm... If my calculations are correct, the reason your future as the Martial God is shrouded in mist, unable to be seen clearly, is because of your future itself."