The wind howled mournfully at Broken Mountain Cliff.
Under the suspended icy moon, with tree shadows dancing, Ziye Wenshu remained silent.
His cold expression suggested he might draw his blade at any moment, causing the two scholars named Qingzhai and Zimo behind him to feel uneasy.
Song Qianji, however, showed no fear and even smiled warmly:
"People in this world start as strangers to one another. If you're willing, we can consider ourselves acquainted now. I could even introduce myself properly."
His words fell upon the ground, almost stirring waves in the snow.
Meng Heze wondered why Senior Brother Song was acting so unusually tonight?
Why must he confront Ziye Wenshu like this?
Meanwhile, Ji Chen thought, these two have no grudges between them, and Brother Song treats fame as fleeting clouds—he's certainly not petty. Could it be because of... because of Fairy Qingqing?!
Yes, how could I forget her? My apologies, Miss Chen—it turns out Brother Song still holds feelings for Miss He in his heart!
Ji Chen couldn't help but smile. Meng Heze, with his right hand resting on his sword, poked him with his left hand, angrily transmitting a warning:
"At such a critical moment, you're still letting your mind wander?! They're about to draw blades over there!"
Ziye Wenshu finally spoke, asking: "What sword art do you practice?"
Song Qianji shook his head: "I don't use blades or swords."
Ziye Wenshu looked at him, his gaze indifferent but his tone serious: "No, you use a sword."
After a moment of silence, Song Qianji neither lied nor evaded: "Yes, I once used a sword!"
"Where is the sword?!" Ziye Wenshu demanded.
Qingzhai and Zimo immediately grew excited—if this fellow surnamed Song answered, their Courtyard Overseer's next words would surely be "Draw your sword."
When two tigers meet, one must prove dominance. Having dared to provoke with "suppressing my realm, trailing you by half a step," he needed to be shown what true power meant.
"The sword is..." Song Qianji initially wanted to say "the sword is in my heart," but the Pure Bottle in his Purple Palace trembled, reminding him that now he only possessed the Fountain of Immortality. "The sword is at the pawnshop. I pawned it."
Ziye Wenshu's expression shifted slightly.
The night wind roared, whipping his black robes.
Under the other's stern gaze, Song Qianji suddenly felt somewhat guilty.
He knew how frustrating it must be to have one's battle intent interrupted, so he lowered his head and fiddled with the tassels on his ceremonial sleeves:
"Weren't we discussing exchanging information? Why bring blades and swords into this?"
Ji Chen curled his lip and muttered under his breath: "If not for pawning the sword to acquire Green Ripple, how would you have become this Nascent Soul cultivator?"
"Xiao Ji!" Song Qianji snapped quietly. "Don't talk nonsense."
Ziye Wenshu had already heard: "It was you."
At the Grand Audience Assembly, He Qingqing played "Wind and Snow Array Entry Tune" to help him break through.
Ziye Wenshu had incidentally heard that He Qingqing received a zither gifted by someone else, which led to that stunning performance.
"It was me." Song Qianji had no choice but to nod.
Not far away, lanterns lit up, and the sound of footsteps crunching on accumulated snow was particularly distinct in the quiet night.
It was the Huawel Sect's Enforcement Hall patrol disciples, about to reach this area.
Ziye Wenshu said calmly: "Farewell."
He turned and left.
The scholars in blue and purple robes hurried after him.
Qingzhai fumed: "He mocks people like this—why should we still tolerate him?!"
Zimo advised: "We're guests at Huawel Sect. It's inappropriate to shed blood during wedding celebrations. Courtyard Overseer is prioritizing the bigger picture."
Ziye Wenshu said calmly: "He means no malice."
The two looked back and saw Song Qianji still standing in place, waving goodbye.
What did "no malice" mean?
Just then, his shout carried on the night wind: "Fellow Daoist Ziye, see you tomorrow!""Even in formal robes, he doesn't look like a proper cultivator—still reeks of the mundane world like some Rogue Cultivator." Qingzhai grew even angrier. "All that talk of being peerless in chess and calligraphy, elegant and charming, serene and detached—it's all fake! He's just a shameless pest! When someone shows unwarranted kindness, they're either scheming or thieving. Senior Brother, don't be fooled by him!"
Zimo added, "Being a pest is one thing, but he might even be depraved. I heard he captured an assassin but didn't kill them, instead imprisoning them in Song Courtyard to torment day and night."
Ziye Wenshu suddenly halted and turned to look at them, his gaze cold as ice.
The two startled, their faces instantly pale, and bowed in unison: "Overseer Senior Brother, we acknowledge our wrongdoing."
"What wrongdoing?" Ziye Wenshu asked expressionlessly.
Qingzhai wiped cold sweat. "We lost our temper and spoke ill of others behind their backs—committed the sin of gossip."
"And the courtyard rule?" Ziye Wenshu pressed.
Zimo whispered, "Do not discuss others without evidence; when discussing others, do not avoid being heard. Those who speak of others' faults are surely fault-finders themselves."
"Hold out your hands." Ziye Wenshu raised his scabbard.
The winter moon hid behind night clouds, and the snowy ground suddenly darkened.
Song Qianji watched the three figures recede into the chaotic shadows of the trees, then turned with his hands behind his back:
"Xiao Meng, do you know where he lives?"
Meng Heze replied, "The cultivators from Green Cliff all reside in Taihe Hall."
Song Qianji quickened his pace. "Good. We'll intercept him on the way tomorrow."
This man was impervious to both soft and hard approaches—unmoved by pleas of poverty or displays of misery, unyielding even under threat of force, harder than the solid ice at the continent's edge.
Yet compared to facing Xian Jianchen, Song Qianji would rather deal with this man. After all, in his previous life, he had already devised a method to handle Ziye Wenshu.
This method wasn't easy to imitate, but its essence could be summarized in three words—shamelessness.
Ji Chen immediately grew excited, clapping and exclaiming, "How interesting! Let's intercept him!"
Meng Heze couldn't hold back: "Why is Senior Brother provoking him? You never liked stirring up trouble before."
Song Qianji laughed. "Stirring up a little trouble now avoids bigger trouble later."
Meng Heze didn't understand but smiled anyway. "As long as Senior Brother is happy."
...
By the time Wei Zhanyang knocked on the door, he had been chilled by the wind all the way, believing his mind was now clear.
But He Qingqing's shadow still lingered.
Strange—had this fairy cultivated some bewitching dark art?
Why did his heart sway and blood rush to his head every time he saw her face?
But the Celestial Sound Sect was a major orthodox sect, with "reputation" being paramount among the four virtues of renowned righteous sects.
He Qingqing was also Jiangyun Fairy's only direct disciple—there was no need for her to risk practicing dark arts.
As he pondered, his knocking grew slightly erratic. The middle-aged man inside scolded, "What's the rush?!"
Wei Zhanyang lowered his voice. "Father, this concerns the family's rise and fall, honor and disgrace. It cannot be delayed."
The door opened, then quietly closed.
Arguments, the shattering of a teapot, and the overturning of chairs echoed inside before finally falling silent.
"If she becomes the Celestial Sound Sect leader in the future, the sect will be ours. I want both the realm and the beauty."
"This matter was decided by the family council, even the Ancestor nodded in agreement. How can you change it so easily?!"
Wei Zhanyang righted an overturned chair. "Don't worry, Father. If we break off the engagement, we'll certainly have all the justification and preserve our dignity."
The middle-aged man's eyes flickered. "You plan to scheme so that Chen Hongzhu takes the initiative to break it off?"
"He Qingqing and Chen Hongzhu were originally together. Since Fairy He came to see me, where did Chen Hongzhu go? Who did she meet?" Wei Zhanyang sneered. "Song Qianji, of course."
The middle-aged man was slightly shocked. "She has that audacity?!""She originally had none. But Song Qianji is a habitual philanderer, skilled at seducing female cultivators."
Initially, they had allied with the Huawel Sect and the Zhao Family in a three-way pact, using participation in the assassination attempt against Song Qianji as their pledge of loyalty.
Now, not only is Song Qianji still alive, but he has also advanced to the Nascent Soul stage, gained control of Thousand Canals, attracted followers from all directions, and his influence continues to grow.
In the eyes of the Cultivation World, he is destined to declare himself king sooner or later.
Wei Ping, whom they had sent out, never returned and instead began serving Song Qianji.
Wei Zhanyang said, "If the young lady elopes with someone before the ceremony, we can compose an opera titled 'Red Candle's Night Flight' and perform it throughout the Cultivation World. By then, would the Huawel Sect still have the face to break ties with us?"
The middle-aged man laughed. "No man in the world would willingly wear the cuckold's horns."
Wei Zhanyang took a deep breath. "To achieve great things, one must be ruthless."
The middle-aged man fell into deep thought.
Wei Zhanyang continued persuasively, "Father, the current situation is most favorable for us. The Huawel Sect and the Zhao Family are now mortal enemies of Song Qianji—they are at the forefront, while we remain behind. We can advance to attack, retreat to defend, and gradually plot our next move. Let them fight first. It would be best if Song Qianji is severely weakened and Thousand Canals becomes completely independent, cutting all ties with the Huawel Sect."
"Wei Ping's influence in Thousand Canals has deepened, and his identity remains undisclosed. When to reveal it is up to us. As long as the timing is perfect, Song Qianji will surely kill him, and the two will become sworn enemies. Once Thousand Canals falls into chaos, that will be our opportunity."
A prosperous Thousand-Ditch Prefecture, free from the Huawel Sect's influence;
A He Qingqing with more power than Chen Hongzhu.
Who wouldn't be tempted?
"How confident are you that you can make Chen Hongzhu voluntarily call off the engagement before the ceremony begins tomorrow?"
Wei Zhanyang replied, "I already have a plan in mind."
The middle-aged man closed his eyes briefly. "Then proceed. I will take responsibility for any repercussions with the Patriarch."
...
The zither music in the bamboo grove ceased, like a babbling spring suddenly freezing mid-flow.
The woman playing the zither looked up and asked, "Did you go out?"
He Qingqing stared at the woman without speaking, her gaze cold.
It was only when Miaoyan called out, "Senior Sister," that He Qingqing smiled and replied, "Yes, I returned late."
Miaoyan had not brought any attendants, only her zither. He Qingqing had also returned alone.
White snow bent the green bamboo, occasionally producing creaking sounds.
Their first formal meeting had also taken place in the Huawel Sect's bamboo grove.
The atmosphere had been lively then, yet He Qingqing had stood out as out of place.
She had not dared to refuse any goodwill shown to her and had imparted the complete "Wind and Snow Array Entry Tune" without reservation.
"Hongzhu is getting engaged tomorrow. Do not hinder her," Miaoyan said.
She had never been interested in others' private affairs, but tonight was an exception.
Perhaps it was because Chen Hongzhu was also her cousin, or perhaps she was curious about whom He Qingqing had gone to meet.
"Junior Sister, this has nothing to do with you," He Qingqing said with a smile. "If you have time, you should worry more about your own situation."
Miaoyan struggled with inner demons due to the "Wind and Snow Array Entry Tune," while Wangshu, eager to suppress Jiangyun, grew increasingly dissatisfied with her prized disciple's distracted state.
Even outsiders could sense the rift between master and disciple.
Miaoyan remained unperturbed. Her demeanor was noble and serene; she never showed anger in front of others.
It would not be becoming.
She only said calmly, "Senior Sister, I believe your situation is more perilous than mine."
In the path of cultivation, He Qingqing had indeed worked diligently, with Jiangyun supporting her from behind.
But which capable cultivator who had made a name for themselves was not diligent day and night, devoting themselves to painstaking study?Since joining the sect, Miaoyan had always enjoyed the finest resources and possessed the greatest talent, yet she never dared to slack in her efforts.
Only through years of accumulated hard work had she achieved her current accomplishments.
If such a gap could be bridged by mere diligence, then the immortal path she sought would be nothing but a joke.
Miaoyan was certain her opponent must have employed extraordinary means.
He Qingqing's smile vanished as she walked past her.
"I will find out," Miaoyan said.
He Qingqing understood what she meant.
Time flew by—she had already taken a master, cultivated new techniques, and obtained new Magical Artifacts.
That melody was like a straw she had clung to reach the shore, and once its purpose was fulfilled, the straw's mission was complete.
She ran forward desperately, occasionally glancing back to vaguely glimpse that figure standing in the moonlight.
Only Miaoyan remained trapped in that blizzard, drawing a prison around herself.
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