True Person Xuyun murmured, "That person... is still alive... still alive!"
He stamped his feet, caught between tears and laughter, the wrinkles on his face contorting wildly.
This was a stark contrast to his usual dignified and stern demeanor, appearing quite comical.
Song Qianji remained silent.
If you want to know whether Xian Jianchen is alive or dead, isn’t it simple?
Just shout his name loudly in the Cosmos Palace whenever you feel like it and see if you get struck by lightning.
It won’t kill you anyway. Even if you shout it three times a day, it’ll just be a bit noisy.
How much psychological trauma did Xian Jianchen leave you all with? To think a group of top-tier experts would willingly act like ostriches.
He forgot that "ostriches" also discriminate based on who they’re dealing with.
"You insolent brat, seeking death!"
A thunderous roar erupted, and a blaze of fire shot straight at Song Qianji’s face.
To be precise, it was a sword aura as scorching as flames.
The entire hall was enveloped, and the temperature instantly soared.
Among the five Peak Lords of the Huawel Sect, Zhao Taiji, the Lord of Redwater Peak, had the most explosive temper.
In his fury, he unleashed a killing move, intending to strike down this Outer Sect disciple who had caused such a disaster on the spot!
Song Qianji stood perfectly still.
The sword aura pressed against his face, the heatwave tousling his bangs.
To others, he seemed frozen in fear.
A split second before the sword aura pierced his throat, a figure stepped in front of him.
True Person Xuyun swept his wide sleeves.
The blazing flames in the hall vanished without a trace, leaving only the cool moonlight slanting across the glazed tiles.
"Senior Brother?!" the Redwater Peak Lord exclaimed in shock and anger. "Why are you stopping me?"
True Person Xuyun said, "That person once shared a half-mentor bond with this youth!"
With that, he paid him no further mind and turned to Song Qianji. "Considering it was an unintentional mistake, I will spare you this once! Remember, you must never utter that name in this hall again!"
"This disciple understands."
The expressions of the five Peak Lords in the hall shifted subtly.
A half-mentor bond?
They scrutinized Song Qianji from head to toe, inside and out, with complex, gloomy, and penetrating gazes.
A youth of fourteen or fifteen, dressed in old clothes and cloth shoes, yet his handsome features were unmistakable.
Though he observed decorum, he showed no unease or fear.
He stood confidently in the resplendent immortal palace, as if he had returned home, while they, the elders and powerful figures, were the guests.
They despised this confidence because it reminded them of "that person" in tattered robes.
Zhao Taiji, who had just attacked in anger, twitched at the corner of his eye, his fist clenching tightly in his sleeve before finally relaxing.
There were very few "living people" left in the world who knew the name Xian Jianchen.
Those who had never met him but revered him referred to him as "the venerable Sword God."
Those who had seen him and feared him dared only call him "that person" or "that sword."
As long as "that person" remained alive, a sharp sword would hang over the Huawel Sect’s Cosmos Palace, the Sect Leader, and all the Peak Lords.
It was a taboo, a secret, and a humiliation.
Who could have imagined that tonight, an Outer Sect disciple, wearing mud-stained cloth shoes and strolling into the Cosmos Palace as casually as taking a walk after a meal, would so simply and directly expose it?
His status was low, his cultivation even lower, and he wore an expression of utter innocence, which was infuriating.
Yet, there was nothing they could do to him.
Because that person had met him, taught him, and left him a message.
When True Person Xuyun recalled these words now, he no longer felt they were a well-intentioned reminder but rather mockery and a warning:
"When the lotus falls in the Dead Sea, the gate of life opens within the clouds."
Each word felt like a slap to his face.
He had failed to break through to the Transformation Stage and needed the "Dead Sea Silver Lotus" as medicine to heal his injuries. However, the Dead Sea was vast and perilous, and the Silver Lotus, with its unique spiritual nature, bloomed for only one night before withering.He had dispatched his trusted aides to search for a long time without success and was already prepared to give up.
Yet Xian Jianchen casually found an outer sect disciple and said to him, "The gate of life opens amidst the clouds," meaning he should search around the "Cloud Strait" in the Dead Sea.
This manner of giving casual guidance on a whim was strikingly similar to how he had once randomly pointed and appointed him as the sect leader.
Through Song Qianji's hastily scribbled words, Xu Yun seemed to see Xian Jianchen smiling as he said:
You became the sect leader and held the position for two hundred years not because you were capable.
But simply because I felt like it.
He took a silent breath, and when he spoke to Song Qianji again, he had regained his authoritative calm, even sounding like a kindly elder:
"The senior who taught you was also a disciple of our sect centuries ago. It was only due to some misunderstandings that he left the sect to travel afar. Since he has acknowledged you, I ought to continue guiding you..."
Song Qianji feigned anticipation, his eyes bright.
Xu Yun continued, "But his seniority is too high. Though you and he have no formal master-disciple relationship, the bond exists in practice. If I were to take you as my disciple now, it would disrupt the hierarchy. Not only me, but no Peak Lord or elder in the Huawel Sect can tamper with this order."
Song Qianji showed a disappointed expression.
Xu Yun then shifted his tone, "The Breath-Concealing Art and Light Body Technique you learned were created by that senior after he left the sect, so they are not considered part of our sect's cultivation methods. As for the case of the disciple surnamed Meng in the Discipline Hall, I am already aware. Though he is innocent, the sect has its rules. Letting him off without consequence would violate regulations and fail to convince the masses!"
Song Qianji put on a nervous expression: "Then how will he be dealt with?"
"Destroying his cultivation is unnecessary. However, he must be expelled from the mountain," Xu Yun sighed regretfully, though his words were cruel. "You taught that disciple with good intentions, yet inadvertently harmed him because of it. From now on, his life and death will be left to fate."
Song Qianji bowed: "Since it is this disciple's fault, I am willing to take responsibility for him and request to leave the mountain myself!"
"Is that so?" Xu Yun had not expected it to be so straightforward and was momentarily stunned. "You do this willingly and swear not to hold resentment because of it?"
"I do it willingly!"
Xu Yun helped him up with both hands, repeatedly praising him: "Good child, good child! When you descend the mountain tomorrow, I will surely send someone to escort you!"
After all, he was still young and impulsive—a few provoking words were enough to make him play the hero.
Song Qianji also smiled: "I dare not trouble the Sect Leader to trouble yourself."
What a straightforward person—acting alongside you is far too comfortable!
The five Peak Lords in the hall exchanged glances, also surprised by how simple it had been, and collectively breathed a sigh of relief.
They, too, had feared that Xu Yun would back down and instead assign one of them to take Song Qianji as a disciple.
If this brat were kept under their noses, every time they saw him, they would be reminded of "that person," and hatred would extend to him by association—who could bear that?
They couldn't kill him, nor could they take him as a disciple.
Truly, that old fox Xu Yun was deeply cunning, using a few words to send him away—out of sight, out of mind.
Even if this kid later came to his senses and regretted it deeply, he would only resent the disciple surnamed Meng, not them.
Song Qianji bowed once more and took his leave.
The six powerful figures of the Huawel Sect smiled benevolently, bidding him farewell with reluctant warmth, the atmosphere so harmonious it was unsettling.
※※※
When Song Qianji stepped out of the hall, the first thing he saw was not the sea of clouds or the bright moon, but the two Discipline Hall disciples.
"He really came out! He came out completely unscathed!" the taller one exclaimed first.
Song Qianji nodded, his mood quite cheerful.
The three of them began their return journey, stepping onto the Fleeting Water Bridge.
The taller one looked back: "That was truly strange earlier—sudden thunder and wind. I thought I was going to be struck dead!"The shorter one snorted lightly, "A clear conscience fears not the thunder!"
When they came, the two walked ahead of Song Qianji to lead the way. On the return, Song Qianji strode swiftly, and the two had to run to keep up.
The taller one asked, "When are you going to the gambling den at the foot of the mountain? I'm Qiu Dacheng, and he's Xu Kanshan. Let's be friends—we'll place bets with you from now on!"
"I'm going down the mountain tomorrow. But not to the gambling den."
The shorter one, Xu Kanshan, asked, "Then when will you be back?"
"I'm not coming back!"
Qiu Dacheng froze, exclaiming in shock, "You've been driven off the mountain?!"
Song Qianji nodded.
Xu Kanshan jumped up, "No way! After all that trouble last night, you ended up taking the fall for your unlucky friend. What was the point of all that?!"
They looked at Song Qianji again, but there was no trace of resentment on his face. Instead, he radiated a faint joy from within.
The two followed him in a daze, and the more they looked, the more they felt his figure seemed tall and imposing.
Like a lofty mountain inspiring awe.
For some reason, they even felt a little envious of Meng Heze.
※※※
Before dawn broke, Song Qianji had already packed his bundle.
There wasn't much to begin with. He didn't plan to bring his sword—the bundle contained only old clothes.
He just felt a little regretful about the freshly turned soil in the courtyard, which he hadn't had time to plant anything in.
True Person Xuyun had told him to "leave tomorrow," so he didn't set off overnight. That would have seemed too eager and might have aroused suspicion or made the other regret the decision.
He wanted to slip away quietly while Meng Heze was recuperating in the infirmary and while Zhou Xiaoyun and the other Outer Sect disciples were too preoccupied to notice him.
So he kept the courtyard gate tightly shut, pretending he was still at the Main Peak and hadn't returned yet.
He hadn't expected that the two Discipline Hall disciples, Qiu Dacheng and Xu Kanshan, would go and report the news.
As a result, Meng Heze, on the brink of death, abruptly sat up in his sickbed and had people carry him over on a stretcher.
"We came to apologize," Zhou Xiaoyun spoke first. "I'm sorry, Senior Brother Song. We misunderstood you before."
The young woman's face flushed red, but her voice was firm and loud as she bowed crisply.
The group behind her shouted in unison, "We're sorry!"
Song Qianji massaged his forehead.
"Senior Brother Song, what kind of sword do you use? Could we take a look?" Zhou Xiaoyun asked.
Song Qianji: "Why?"
One of the disciples who had previously insulted him scratched his head somewhat sheepishly:
"We pooled some money and plan to buy you a good sword."
Song Qianji: "...There's no need."
"Senior Brother Song, please don't refuse. Let us do something for you."
"Really, it's unnecessary. I won't have any use for a sword in the future." Song Qianji smiled, a genuinely relaxed expression. "I'm leaving the mountain today!"
The small courtyard suddenly fell into dead silence.
Only the sound of wind blowing fallen petals could be heard.
Even the magpies' chirping in the branches turned desolate.
Meng Heze, lying on the stretcher, finally spoke at this moment:
"No."
His voice was hoarse. His face was as pale as a ghost's, his eyes sunken, fixed intently on Song Qianji.
"Don't overthink it." Song Qianji looked up at the sky. "I'm willing to leave the mountain myself. Look at Mount Huawei—the red flowers bloom, the yellow leaves fall, the blue clouds roll, and the purple clouds drift. It seems like it will never end.
"Mortal lives are different. Mortals have short lives—just a few decades, gone in the blink of an eye."
He reflected that just days ago, he had been obsessed with ascending the path to immortality. Suddenly giving it up would seem unreasonable. It was better to act as if he had lost all hope.
Song Qianji concluded with a sigh, "These three years at Mount Huawei—let them be nothing but a dream."
Meng Heze's Adam's apple bobbed, his voice trembling slightly:"Senior Brother Song, you are the most diligent and remarkable person I have ever met. You shouldn't have ended up like this."
Zhou Xiaoyun and the others also looked sorrowful.
They no longer called him Song Luo, instead mournfully crying out "Senior Brother Song."
Song Qianji comforted them: "In this world, there is no 'should' or 'shouldn't,' only 'can' or 'cannot.' Everything is fate, and I simply don't have that destiny."
Fate? Those who scheme against others rise effortlessly, while Senior Brother Song's future is shattered. How hateful that heaven is blind.
A sense of injustice burned in Meng Heze's chest, making his eyes redden.
How could Song Qianji resign himself to fate? By what right should he accept it? Having once glimpsed the path to the heavens, who would be content to remain mortal again!
"I will never let you fall into the mortal world. As long as I draw breath, I will help you ascend the immortal path!" The youth suddenly raised his hand, swearing to the heavens, "I, Meng Heze, vow that once I have achieved success in my cultivation, I will descend the mountain to bring you back. Otherwise, I..."
"Cough, cough, cough!" Song Qianji stared in disbelief, hurriedly pressing down his finger.
What grievance exists between us that you insist on harming me?!
"Senior Brother Song." Meng Heze was about to say more when a gust of wind swept by, and a flash of red rushed before them.
The person didn't bother knocking, instead kicking the door open and barging in.
As if there were no place in the Huawel Sect she couldn't go.
A butterfly hairpin adorned her hair, reflecting the morning sunlight, swaying with every step.
She wore a red dress, a long whip hanging at her waist.
Meng Heze and the others didn't recognize her, but from her attire and demeanor, they guessed her identity. For a moment, they were too stunned and wary to speak.
Song Qianji was also taken aback.
Last night in the Cosmos Palace, the sect leader had said someone would escort him down the mountain tomorrow.
But he thought it was merely a polite gesture, meant to set a time and hurry him along.
Well, having an escort meant he could leave sooner.
Song Qianji immediately bid farewell to Meng Heze and the others:
"Enough talk, I should go." Then he turned to Chen Hongzhu, smiling before he even spoke, looking at her as if she were a bringer of wealth. "Thank you, Senior Sister Chen."
Chen Hongzhu met his gaze, and for some reason, her expression shifted before she grew furious:
"What are you smiling at? Stop smiling!"
Song Qianji wiped the smile off his face and picked up his bundle: "Alright, let's go."
"Wait." Chen Hongzhu snorted lightly. "You must thank me first!"
Song Qianji didn't ask why: "Thank you, Senior Sister Chen."
"You should indeed thank me!" Chen Hongzhu laughed heartily at his compliance. "I've come to tell you some good news!"
A sudden sense of foreboding stirred in Song Qianji's heart.
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