They missed the excitement from Song Xian Guan of Thousand-Ditch Prefecture, only witnessing the commotion stirred by the Ji Family of White Phoenix Prefecture.
The hosts from Huawel Sect felt somewhat disheartened.
"How is Hongzhu preparing?" Xu Yun summoned the chief steward to inquire.
There was still one hour until the ceremony officially began. According to the schedule, Chen Hongzhu should be burning incense and dressing in the rear hall.
She would change into a ceremonial robe with four layers, trailing three zhang on the ground, wearing a golden crown adorned with West Sea Mermaid Pearls, and a waist adorned with exquisite Spirit Jade and jeweled tassels.
Only when the bells and drums sounded, marking the auspicious hour, could she appear before the crowd.
"The maid from the young lady's side just reported that she has finished dressing," the chief steward paused, seeming hesitant about whether to continue, "Young Master Wei has gone over."
Xu Yun frowned and turned to the middle-aged cultivator beside him: "Wei Zhenren."
Wei Zhanyang's father feigned surprise and smiled, "He probably wanted to see if there was anything he could help with. Young people bond quickly."
"Oh." Xu Yun nodded, "Zhanyang is thoughtful."
Yesterday, Wei Zhanyang had lost his composure at Fleeting Water Bridge, leading to some unpleasant rumors. Though baseless, it had displeased Huawel Sect, which then pressured the Wei Family.
Today, Wei Zhanyang's enthusiastic and attentive behavior, eagerly supporting their Hongzhu, was entirely expected.
The auspicious hour was approaching. Regardless of feelings, there was no turning back.
The guests deliberately chatted loudly, especially the smaller sects and vassal states attached to the Huawai Sect, seizing the opportunity to demonstrate their loyalty:
"Young Master Wei is a talented youth, and the young lady is noble and beautiful." The union of these two families is truly a joyous occasion."
"To witness the engagement of such a perfect pair with our own eyes is our good fortune. Today, blessed by this auspicious luck, our cultivation paths will surely be smoother."
"Fellow cultivators, please." Xu Yun raised his cup, "Coarse tea and poor wine, we apologize for any inadequacies in our hospitality."
The guests followed suit, pouring wine and drinking heartily.
Among them, those knowledgeable about wine were thrilled, praising the hosts effusively: "Six-hundred-year-old Green Ant Vintage Brew, something you can't buy outside even with Spirit Stones—they've truly spared no expense."
"If not for the young lady's engagement banquet, how would we have such a treat?"
Song Qianji knew how he behaved when drunk, so he dared not touch the wine jug beside him, only eating fruits, pastries, and exquisite dishes.
When others raised their Green Ant wine to toast him, he could only raise his jade soup tureen to drink soup.
The Spirit Wine brewed by Huawel Sect, though not as mellow as the unique craftsmanship of Dayan Sect, was rich in Spirit Qi, infused with various Spirit Herbs, and had the effects of unblocking Spirit Veins, promoting blood circulation, and nourishing the body—ideal for replenishing qi in deep winter.
Song Qianji urged Meng Heze and the others, "Everyone, drink up, don't waste it."
Meng Heze refused sternly. Lin Feiyuan snatched the wine jug, took a big gulp, and passed it around like a game for the disciples to drink.
When the disciples went out hunting, they only drank cloudy wine made from grains. After a few cups of Green Ant Spirit Wine, they were invigorated, faces glowing, as if back to roasting meat with the hunting team.
The main hall was resplendent and magnificent, with disciples from various sects standing respectfully behind their representatives.
Only the Thousand Canals group was chatting, laughing, eating, and drinking, enjoying themselves as if in their own backyard.
This scene made other disciples envious, while many sneered disdainfully:
"A bunch of country bumpkins. Doesn't Song Qianji even bother to discipline them?""Without rules and distinctions of rank, what kind of order is this? Are all cultivators in Thousand Canals like this?"
Li Ying, standing nearby, laughed upon hearing this: "So Senior Brother Song is so lenient with his disciples. I had heard that those under Song Courtyard had few restraints yet remained fiercely loyal—it seems true."
"They are neither my disciples nor my subordinates," Song Qianji said. "They merely follow me in cultivation for now. It is a mutual agreement. Loyalty to oneself is the true path—why speak of 'loyalty' to me?"
"Mutual agreement..." Li Ying paused, murmuring, "How many sect rules truly inspire willing compliance?"
"Friend Ziye!" Song Qianji had already raised his soup bowl, inviting Ziye Wenshu. "I offer soup in place of wine—will you share a cup?"
Ziye Wenshu slightly raised an eyebrow, as if hesitating.
"Song Xian Guan, please understand—Courtyard Overseer Senior Brother has never favored drinking," Qingzhai said sternly, his expression rigid.
"I'll drink in Senior Brother's stead," Zimo offered with a smile.
Song Qianji laughed. "An occasional break from strict rules does no harm. Here, I'll finish this half-bowl of ginseng soup first."
The disciples of Green Cliff were collectively speechless. How could someone like Song Qianji exist?
The Courtyard Overseer would certainly not indulge his whims.
Yet Ziye Wenshu raised his cup and drank it all in one go.
He set down the wine cup, his brow smoothing and the corners of his lips quirking slightly before returning to normal in an instant.
Song Qianji chuckled inwardly.
Only when invited publicly, to avoid being "impolite," would Ziye Wenshu "reluctantly" raise his cup.
To be a model for all, one must naturally abstain from worldly desires like food, drink, and pleasure.
The more dignified he appeared, the more others dared not offend him, fearing to taint his divine aura.
But Song Qianji knew he wanted to drink.
In their previous life, weary from slaughter in Blood River Valley, endless hordes of demons roared like tidal waves from all directions, surging forward.
Sun and moon lost their light. Only the two of them remained alive between heaven and earth.
Nearly drained of Spirit Qi and blood, numb with exhaustion, they clung to survival by sheer will.
Song Qianji wiped his face.
Gripping his sword, he used a torn sleeve to bind the hilt tightly to his hand.
"Hey, stone-face," Song Qianji called out. "If we don't die here, what do you want to do most?"
Ziye Wenshu was cleaning his blade again, using a bloodstained, tattered cloth.
Even covered in grime and filth, he maintained his habits with meticulous care.
He said softly, "I want to drink wine."
Song Qianji laughed, then coughed, ignoring the gushing blood from his torn abdominal wound:
"Seriously? You've never had wine?!"
In truth, he hadn't either—only seen others drink—but pride mattered more now.
"I have. It was good. A hundred years ago," Ziye Wenshu replied. "What about you?"
Song Qianji spat a mouthful of blood and declared loudly, "I want to see Miaoyan! They say the number one beauty of the Cultivation World has celestial grace enough to topple cities. How can I die without seeing her with my own eyes?"
Ziye Wenshu frowned.
Song Qianji knew this meant disdain for his vulgarity but didn't care: "If we survive, I'll treat you to wine!"
"I'll take you to see Fairy Miaoyan."
"Men of noble sects must keep their word!"
They survived by chance, but they never drank together.
By the time Song Qianji saw Miaoyan with his own eyes, Ziye Wenshu had long been dead.
So long that snow after snow had blanketed the Cultivation World, and forgetful cultivators no longer spoke his name."Fairy Miaoyan has arrived—" the Chief Steward of Huawel Sect announced loudly.
Amidst waves of sharp inhalations, Song Qianji snapped back to attention and absentmindedly picked up a morsel of crab roe with his chopsticks.
The crab roe, rich and mellow in flavor, sat in a translucent jade plate before him, its color golden with hints of orange.
Just like the orange floor-length dress and golden arm veil Miaoyan wore today.
"This Huawel Mountain is an uncanny place—whoever you think of appears," Song Qianji sighed.
Miaoyan possessed an ethereal grace, always striving for an "effortlessly elegant" aesthetic, rarely wearing brightly colored clothes or lavish jewelry.
But today was special. She had been invited by Huawel Sect to play a piece in celebration of the grand ceremony.
Thus she appeared in full regalia, the pearls and jade at her temples reflecting the hall's radiance, stunning and transfixing all present.
Ji Chen whispered, "Brother Song seems dazed. So he also enjoys admiring beauties."
Meng Heze retorted, "Nonsense! Senior Brother Song never judges by appearances. He even has that famous saying about 'beautiful skeletons' passed down through the ages!"
Ji Chen stuck out his tongue, "I almost forgot."
Someone Song Qianji had struggled to see in his previous life, yet now wished to avoid and couldn't be bothered with, had already appeared before him three times at close range.
Fleeting Water Bridge, the flower appreciation gathering, and now Cosmos Palace.
Any other young cultivator would consider it the fortune of three lifetimes.
That Huawel Sect could invite Fairy Miaoyan to perform was itself an honor.
Miaoyan spoke, her voice soft as gauze: "Congratulations on Hongzhu's engagement."
The guests rose to show their respect and gratitude.
Xu Yun said, "We trouble the Fairy."
Surprisingly, Miaoyan didn't summon her zither, but accepted a pipa from her maid.
The pipa's surface was painted with phoenix tail feathers, its strings gleaming.
Only after she took her position at the center of the hall did everyone resume their seats.
"I've been fortunate to hear Fairy Miaoyan play the zither, but never the pipa."
"With fine wine to cleanse our spirit veins and celestial music to regulate our spirit qi and aid enlightenment, Huawel Sect truly lives up to being a great sect."
Only Song Qianji felt something amiss: "Phoenix Platform?"
Miaoyan was proficient with many instruments, her lifebound magical artifact being the zither. Her zither music was most effective at aiding cultivators' practice.
Her pipa, famously called "Phoenix Platform," was equally renowned yet rarely seen.
Legend said that when its strings moved, phantom images of phoenixes in flight would emerge from the instrument's surface, truly embodying "phoenixes roaming the Phoenix Platform."
Song Qianji once heard Miaoyan say: "The zither possesses nine virtues. If played with ulterior motives and an impure heart, it easily damages the instrument's spirit qi—better not to play at all."
At the time, Song Qianji didn't understand what "ulterior motives" meant.
He advised: "When you don't wish to play, then don't. No one can force you."
It wasn't until near his death, when Miaoyan rushed over holding her pipa and played "The Conqueror Removes His Armor," that he understood.
He understood too late.
Song Qianji lowered his head and took another bite of crab roe.
On this joyous occasion, what possible motives could Miaoyan have?
...
Miaoyan stood at the center of the great hall, her gaze sweeping over the assembled guests.
She saw the expressions of awe, infatuation, and longing she expected.
She enjoyed standing at the center of attention, receiving respect, but disliked crowding.
This distance was perfect, the occasion and atmosphere just right.
Though this was Chen Hongzhu's engagement banquet, when people recalled it later, they might not remember Chen Hongzhu's attire, but would certainly remember that Miaoyan had played a piece.
In the past, this would have satisfied her greatly.
But today was different. She felt more apprehensive, more excited, like the young girl she'd been many years ago when first learning music—unfamiliar with the strings yet filled with curiosity.
She sought an answer to a puzzle that had long troubled her, gradually becoming a mental block.Compared to the prison fortress within her heart, the pressure He Qingqing brought her felt as light as dust.
"Goddess, among all these guests, who do you secretly wish for the most?" the maid couldn't resist asking while dressing Miaoyan's hair.
She shook her head without answering.
Now Miaoyan stood in the center of the hall, her chin slightly raised as she stared straight ahead, yet her peripheral vision could still take in the guests lining both sides of the grand hall.
Everyone was watching her.
Only Song Qianji kept his head down, focused on eating crab roe.
"I only hope it isn't him."
Miaoyan gave a slight nod, signaling to the host that he could begin.
Xu Yun raised his hand, suddenly flourishing his horsetail whisk. Countless silver threads arced through the air.
The glazed tiles of Cosmos Palace shimmered with ripples, rapidly "fading" in color.
As Xu Yun's whisk descended, the other five Peak Lords of Huawel Sect rose together, summoning their lifebound magical artifacts.
The guests looked up in astonishment. Through the transparent roof, they could clearly see the patterns of flowing clouds and the trajectories of flying birds against the azure sky.
The cloud sea surged like a tsunami, forming rapidly spinning vortices as the jubilant five-colored carp sank deep into the cloud layers.
Five streams of Gathered Light shot from the hall, passing through the transparent glazed tiles to form five petal-shaped illusions above the cloud sea, merging into a single flower.
The billowing cloud sea lifted the flower illusion, which rapidly expanded to cover the entire Huawel Mountain like a colossal umbrella supporting the sky.
In that instant, the Spirit Qi between heaven and earth underwent strange transformations, enough to make any cultivator's heart tremble.
"Huawel Sect's Cloud Sea Grand Formation has been activated!"
Exclamations filled the hall, with the disciples from Thousand Canals equally astonished.
"What an impressive formation," Ji Chen murmured.
The Huawel Sect members immediately felt their pride restored.
This spectacle was originally arranged to make a splash at the Grand Audience Assembly. Who could have predicted that with the Three Saints gathered there, the host had to be cautious, not daring to show off before masters.
Song Qianji had seen this in his previous life—and had witnessed an improved version at that.
He couldn't help but chuckle momentarily.
This might fool inexperienced youngsters, but in real combat, no amount of imposing light and shadow effects would matter—they're all just empty tricks to confuse opponents.
He knew the true killing intent of Huawel Sect's grand formation was hidden within the seemingly peaceful and harmless Fleeting Water Bridge.
Lin Feiyuan transmitted his voice to Ji Chen, Meng Heze, and Song Qianji: "Watch carefully. This is the power of a major sect's mountain-protecting formation. When Xu Yun activates the formation and the five Peak Lords jointly channel Spirit Qi, every inanimate object within Huawel Mountain—every flower and plant, every stone and tree—comes under their absolute control. This is what we call the accumulated foundation of a major sect over millennia. It's not something you can break through by brute force alone. Next time, be more careful—don't go delivering yourself to their doorstep!"
Meng Heze knew this was directed at him, but surprisingly didn't retort, nodding instead: "If not for Miss Chen's selfless help that night, we might have been trapped within the sect."
Ji Chen brimmed with ambition: "Someday, I'll make sure Thousand Canals has a formation this powerful too!"
"Wrong," Song Qianji shook his head. "Plants aren't inanimate objects."
Lin Feiyuan was caught off guard by his focus, responding dismissively: "Alright, alright. In your Song Courtyard, plants are more human than people—they all listen to you."
"Wrong," Song Qianji insisted. "Plants aren't inanimate objects anywhere. Even in Huawel Mountain."
Lin Feiyuan snorted with laughter, too lazy to indulge him further: "If they have spirits, try telling one to bloom and see if it listens to you."
Song Qianji fell silent.
He remembered the ancient pine at Broken Mountain Cliff.
That millennia-old tree that had weathered countless storms—he wondered if it had responded to his sentiments.As the formation reached its peak, three sharp "zheng, zheng, zheng" sounds suddenly pierced the air.
Like the clashing of blades, it sent shivers down one's spine.
The cultivators swallowed their exclamations, and the great hall fell into momentary silence.
It was Fairy Miaoyan pressing down on the strings.
After three forceful notes from the pipa, the music cascaded like a waterfall from the beauty's fingertips, plucking at heartstrings.
Song Qianji took a deep breath, his smile turning into a helpless bitter grin.
The adapted "Wind and Snow Array Entry Tune."
Again?
This isn't good.
※※※
Following Chen Hongzhu's gaze out the window, Wei Zhanyang felt a slight stir in his heart.
The Huawel Sect must have expended countless Spirit Stones and great effort to maintain appearances today.
Therefore, he could only succeed.
Sink or swim.
He took a deep breath. "Hongzhu, please carefully consider what I said earlier. This is your only chance."
"Is that so?"
For some reason, Chen Hongzhu seemed distracted, as if her mind was preoccupied with other important matters.
The maids had already withdrawn.
The spacious rear hall was scented with light incense, leaving only the two of them facing each other.
Every word spoken echoed faintly in the space.
"Indeed. I'm doing this for your own good!" Wei Zhanyang spoke with genuine emotion. "I know you care for him, and I would never wish to take what belongs to another. More importantly..."
He deliberately paused to capture Chen Hongzhu's attention. "I know how your father plans to kill him."
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