Chapter Thirty-Nine: A Temporary Dwelling

Page 1 of 3

The first update is here! The novel has already surged to the front page! Thank you, everyone—today, ten thousand words updated! Yet the ranking is still precarious, so I continue to beg for your recommendation votes! By the way, my gratitude to Drunken Eyes at Thousand Peaks, tabeian Zero, Cihua, Confused Bug, and I Am a Cat Person for your generous rewards! Thank you all for your support! And to those who have cast their votes, though I may not know your names, my thanks remain unchanged!

——

Fragments of memory flashed rapidly through his mind.

For his master, Xuan Zhenzi, who had brought about the greatest turning point in his life, Liu Ping did often complain inwardly about his stinginess, harshness, and utter lack of responsibility, who, having taken him as a disciple, simply left him to his own devices. Yet, deep down, he respected and felt immense gratitude toward him.

For without Xuan Zhenzi, and without this Essence Treasure Record, his beginnings in this world would have been unimaginably arduous—how could he not remember it with the deepest gratitude?

He could still vaguely recall their first meeting. He had privately considered the old man a charlatan, and, putting on airs, he had mockingly asked, “A thousand arts, endless paths—let me ask only one thing: can one gain immortality?” and flatly refused him.

Looking back now, he felt nothing but embarrassment. Such a great opportunity had nearly slipped through his fingers by his own careless dismissal.

Thankfully, there was a second meeting, and the words exchanged then remained vivid in his memory. Liu Ping had wanted to temper himself amidst the mundane world, but his “discounted” master had berated him, “Utter foolishness! The best identity for a cultivator is that of a hermit. Do you want to become another ‘Drunken Red Dust’?”

Then, with muddled reasoning—“The lesser hermit hides in the wilds; the middling hermit hides in the city; the great hermit hides at court”—he muddled through the discussion again, letting Liu Ping remain in the mortal world, and even mused, “You’re even more in the red dust than Drunken Red Dust herself. If fate brings you together in the world, you might even become Dao companions.”

Those words had made Liu Ping’s eyes light up at the time, and he had hurriedly asked, “Drunken Red Dust is a girl? Is she beautiful?”

“You unworthy disciple!” His master was almost beside himself with anger. After a while, he had pointed to the sky and said, “She’s as beautiful as a celestial maiden!”

That phrase, “as beautiful as a celestial maiden,” left Liu Ping with a sense of regret, thinking that if fate did not allow their paths to cross, it would be a great loss indeed.

He had thought the mortal realm so vast that it would be near impossible to meet Drunken Red Dust, and even if he did, perhaps he wouldn’t recognize her. Who would have thought that now, at this moment, he would encounter her like this?

Such is fate and destiny—deceptive as drifting clouds and waves, leaving one in awe.

Lost in thought, Liu Ping’s gaze once again fell upon Drunken Red Dust’s face.

That exquisitely beautiful face, skin like condensed cream, and the extraordinary grace in her every movement—she was a feast for the eyes, inspiring silent amazement. Truly, she was a beauty as if painted, even more stunning than rumored, and even compared to Meng Shang, she did not pale in the slightest.

Such a peerless beauty, wandering amidst the dusty world, evoked a sense of regret and an urge to shield her from harm.

As he stared, unblinking, Drunken Red Dust did not shy away; she met his gaze with ease and asked with a smile, “Why are you looking at me so dazedly again?”

“Ah, sorry…” Liu Ping immediately snapped back to himself, hurriedly looking away. “I just remembered something.”

He felt a surge of relief—thank goodness, when speaking of past events with Drunken Red Dust earlier, he hadn’t mentioned this little episode, or he would have thoroughly embarrassed himself.

Of course, he would never say it. Words so frivolous and greedy, if spoken, would surely arouse the beauty’s disgust.

Drunken Red Dust, however, was curious. “What was it you remembered?”

Though she secluded herself in the mortal world, venturing out only two or three times a month, she was adept at heavenly calculation, her insight like an omniscient gaze surveying the world. No matter the matter, a simple divination would reveal all.

But when it came to Liu Ping, she could glean nothing.

She did not find this off-putting; rather, it piqued her curiosity. What Liu Ping had shared earlier had genuinely surprised her.

How long had it been since she had last felt this sensation?

Liu Ping smiled. “Senior Sister just now said your Dao name is Drunken Red Dust. I was momentarily stunned, and with good reason.”

Drunken Red Dust did not reply, only sipped her tea in silence, her every movement imbued with a unique charm, waiting for Liu Ping to continue.

Page 2 of 3

Slightly editing his recollection, Liu Ping continued, “The reason is simple: my master once mentioned your Dao name.”

“He did?” Drunken Red Dust cupped her small tea cup in her palms, surprised, and asked.

Liu Ping said, “At the time, I said I wished to temper myself amidst the red dust. He said my attitude was hardly that of a cultivator—was I trying to become another Drunken Red Dust?”

“I was pleased to hear that, thinking that if there was precedent, I could get away with it. So I quoted, ‘the lesser hermit hides in the wilds,’ and so on. He even sighed at me, saying I was even more in the red dust than Drunken Red Dust.”

“That made me very curious, so I asked who Drunken Red Dust was. Master said she was a genius beauty from our sect, but sadly lost to the mundane world.”

“Then I asked, ‘Is Drunken Red Dust beautiful?’”

As she listened to Liu Ping recount the story, Drunken Red Dust couldn’t help but smile, her beauty becoming even more enchanting. When Liu Ping actually asked if Drunken Red Dust was beautiful, she was taken aback. This little fellow—before Xuan Zhenzi, no less—had dared to ask such a thing. She couldn’t help but wonder what kind of expression Xuan Zhenzi must have had at the time—surely it was something to see!

Seeing her smile, Liu Ping smiled as well and continued, “Then my master was furious, his mustache twitching in helpless exasperation, scolding me for being an unworthy disciple.”

Drunken Red Dust, picturing the usually stern Xuan Zhenzi showing such exasperation, couldn’t help but burst into laughter. “Your master was right—you really are an unworthy disciple. Weren’t you afraid of him, daring to ask such a question?”

Liu Ping replied, “I wasn’t done. After a pause, my master pointed to the sky and said she was as beautiful as a celestial maiden. I had my doubts then, but now, seeing you, Senior Sister, I can only agree wholeheartedly—you really are like a goddess descended to the world.”

Hearing his words and seeing the sincerity in his eyes, Drunken Red Dust felt a sweetness in her heart, though her expression remained stern. “What a smooth talker—so young, and already such a flatterer?”

Liu Ping replied, “How is that flattery? I’m only telling the truth. Are you saying I can’t tell the truth?”

Drunken Red Dust put on a stern face. “It’s flattery, plain and simple.”

“All right, flattery it is…” Liu Ping didn’t argue, and asked, “Senior Sister, is this a paradise realm?”

Drunken Red Dust set her cup on the table and nodded. “Yes, it’s a paradise—a stroke of luck that I came across by chance. With this little world, even without support from the sect, I could cultivate in peace, living as Drunken Red Dust.”

Liu Ping said, “It’s the first I’ve seen.”

Drunken Red Dust replied with a hint of pride, “There are countless ghostly immortals in this world, but most have never set foot in a paradise realm.”

Liu Ping asked, “Is there a difference in the flow of time between this place and the outside world?”

“Time difference?” Drunken Red Dust blinked, then understood. “That’s a good way to put it. There is indeed a difference. Although it can’t compare to the heavens, or to the finest paradise realms, it’s still several times better than those blessed lands. Here, five days equals a single day outside.”

“Five days here is only one day outside?” Liu Ping was astonished, then asked, “Is there daytime here?”

“Of course,” Drunken Red Dust replied.

“It may be presumptuous, but may I ask—can one undergo the Yangfire Tribulation here as well?”

Drunken Red Dust smiled. “So you’re hoping I’ll watch over you?”

Liu Ping, a bit embarrassed, replied, “If Senior Sister isn’t willing, then never mind.”

Drunken Red Dust shook her head. “You’ve called me ‘Senior Sister’ so kindly—how could I refuse? Yes, you can undergo the Yangfire Tribulation here, and I can certainly watch over you.”

Liu Ping was overjoyed and quickly said, “Thank you, Senior Sister!”

“Is thanks really necessary? You’ve told me such delightful stories—I should be thanking you.”

“No thanks needed,” Liu Ping replied thick-skinned.

Page 3 of 3

It was not flattery, but a candid “no thanks needed” that made Drunken Red Dust laugh out loud again, her laughter as bright as blossoming flowers. “You’re remarkably frank, aren’t you? Very well, since you’ve decided to face the Yangfire Tribulation, you can attempt it tomorrow. For today, stay here… Ye’er! Hua’er!”

Soon, Ye’er and Hua’er pushed the door open and entered, bowing respectfully. “Ye’er and Hua’er greet Master.”

Drunken Red Dust gestured to Liu Ping. “This is your Martial Uncle. Greet your Martial Uncle.”

“Huh?” The two little girls were clearly stunned, unable to process this sudden development.

Martial Uncle? How did a Martial Uncle suddenly appear?

“Hmm?” Drunken Red Dust uttered the syllable with authority.

Little Hua’er quickly recovered, showing no resistance, and cheerfully greeted, “Greetings, Martial Uncle~!”

Little Ye’er, however, was less willing. She’d just been teasing Liu Ping a moment ago, and now she had to call him Martial Uncle? It was a bit much, but not daring to defy her master, she mumbled, “Greet… ings, Martial… Uncle.”

“All right, take your Martial Uncle to the ‘A’ suite, and bring him hot water and towels,” Drunken Red Dust instructed without a hint of courtesy.

“Yes, Master.” The two little girls dared not disobey, and bowed in assent.

The scene made Liu Ping feel a twinge of pity—these child servants were being put to work without mercy. It reminded him of the myths, whether Taoist or Buddhist, where great immortals always had young boys and girls in their service—even the Supreme Lord and Guanyin were no exception.

He wondered, could this be a tradition?

He thought no more of it, took his leave of Senior Sister, and followed the two girls out.

As he left, he glanced at a cabinet nearby—the doors were slightly ajar. Sure enough, the timid, adorable little Guo’er, who had been hiding inside, must have been spying and eavesdropping all this time.

What a strange little creature. Why Drunken Red Dust indulged her so, he did not know. Noticing Liu Ping’s gaze, Guo’er quickly closed the gap.

The ‘A’ suite was on the fifth floor. As they went up, Ye’er led the way in silence, while Hua’er peppered him with questions. “Martial Uncle, Martial Uncle, how did you suddenly become my Martial Uncle?”

Seeing her lively demeanor, Liu Ping couldn’t help but pat her head. “Because I am your Martial Uncle, of course I am.”

“Because you’re Martial Uncle, so you’re Martial Uncle—I see.” Hua’er accepted the explanation without hesitation, then asked, “What’s Martial Uncle’s name? What’s your Dao name? Who’s your master?”

Liu Ping gamely answered, “My surname is Liu, given name Ping, courtesy name Fenchang. As for Dao name, I don’t have one yet. My master is Xuan Zhenzi.”

Hua’er thought for a moment. “Xuan Zhenzi? Oh, I remember—he’s Grand-Uncle Xuan Zhenzi, isn’t he? He’s very scary. I can’t believe you’re his disciple, Martial Uncle!”

Before long, they reached the fifth floor’s ‘A’ suite.

The room was over a hundred square meters, elegantly appointed with beaded curtains and embroidered drapes, blending refinement and grandeur.

Layer upon layer of screens painted with willows, peach blossoms, and fish separated a study, complete with brush, ink, paper, and inkstone. There was also a tea room, lounge, bedroom, and bath, all partitioned by screens, lending a subtle charm to the space.

Soon, Hua’er and Ye’er brought hot water and towels. After washing up, Liu Ping lay on the soft, comfortable divan, but felt no urge to sleep. After all, he had arrived in the morning, and was still quite awake.

But lack of drowsiness did not mean he couldn’t sleep—he closed his eyes and, controlling his body, slowly drifted off.