"Do you see my face? Isn't it more beautiful than when we last met?"
Hearing this question, Song Qianji stopped walking and carefully examined her from left to right: "My apologies, I cannot tell the difference."
He Qingqing smiled: "Senior Brother Song has a pure heart free of distracting thoughts, so naturally you wouldn't notice." She took out a jade vial: "This is for you."
Song Qianji stared at the vial's opening, detecting some familiar aura, and couldn't help frowning: "What is this?"
"Something beneficial for cultivators."
"What exactly!"
"This is..." He Qingqing took a deep breath and transmitted her voice: "Sap from the roots of the Sky-Supporting Tree. It can help cultivators improve their cultivation!"
As for how she was pushed down the mine shaft by her sectmates and discovered the Sky-Supporting Tree's roots to obtain this item, she didn't mention.
Song Qianji was stunned.
Sky-Supporting Tree?!
Right, currently the cultivation world appears peaceful and harmonious on the surface, with evil cults and demons leaderless and hiding everywhere.
In the eyes of ordinary cultivators, without great battles between good and evil, without catastrophic disasters shaking heaven and earth, the scenes of doomsday seem distant—who could predict the world over a hundred years from now?
Song Qianji shook his head.
"You don't want it?" He Qingqing was surprised.
"I don't want it, and I advise you not to take it either." Song Qianji said seriously, "Regarding cultivation level, rushing is worse than waiting. Shortcuts sometimes become detours. Moreover, humans live one lifetime, plants live one autumn—as long as it's a tree, its vitality has its limits, and it will eventually face death."
He Qingqing thought to herself, the Sky-Supporting Tree isn't an ordinary tree. Such a colossal entity supports heaven and earth, sharing the same lifespan as the sun and moon—how could it die?
Besides, I only took a little sap, like taking a single drop from the ocean.
"I understand." She retrieved the jade vial, "But Senior Brother Song, not everyone is like you..."
While Song Qianji and He Qingqing stood talking, the academy disciples following behind grew anxious:
"Why have they stopped? Is Senior Brother Overseer still walking forward?"
"Nonsense, we're walking openly and honestly now. If we stop just because they stop, that would be called stalking!"
"Good point! Oh no, we're about to bump into them—should we greet them, Senior Brother?"
Before He Qingqing could finish her sentence, she spotted the Green Cliff group: "I should go."
"Take care." Song Qianji said.
Zimo said happily: "Junior Sister He, no, Senior Sister He!"
They thought He Qingqing would say something to them—or at least to Ziye Wenshu.
Many in the academy privately believed that since she was rescued by the Overseer, without Green Cliff there would be no her. No matter how far she goes in the future, she will always be the junior sister who came from Green Cliff.
But He Qingqing only nodded faintly.
Ziye Wenshu nodded simultaneously.
No further words were exchanged as they passed by each other.
Like fellow cultivators who happened to meet by chance.
The overly enthusiastic smiles on the Green Cliff disciples' faces froze, leaving them somewhat embarrassed.
Fortunately, Song Qianji took the initiative to speak: "Fellow Daoist Ziye, everyone from Green Cliff, we meet again! What a coincidence!"
"Not a coincidence. I was following you." Ziye Wenshu said.
Qingzhai and Zimo transmitted their voices frantically:
"Even if it's true, Senior Brother shouldn't say it out loud!"
"How is he supposed to respond to that! I can't take this, someone dig a hole for me to hide in!"
Song Qianji naturally continued: "Has Fellow Daoist Ziye made a decision?"
Others couldn't understand this question and stared blankly, but Ziye Wenshu knew Song Qianji was referring to his previous request—whether he could be notified in advance before each breakthrough, so he could prepare early.
Instead of answering, he asked in return: "How to make flowers bloom?"
Beneath Huawai Sect's strongest Cloud Sea Grand Formation, how could one perform the snowfield blooming technique without anyone noticing?Not only was Ziye Wenshu perplexed, but all the guests present and even the host couldn't comprehend it either.
Only the disciples of Thousand-Ditch Prefecture took it for granted.
They believed that if Senior Brother Song could summon rain in a prefecture that hadn't seen a drop in three years—where the land was parched and cracked—then making a few flowers bloom was nothing remarkable.
Qingzhai hurriedly explained, "What the Courtyard Overseer meant was, we don't know what spell Song Xian Guan used..."
Before he could finish, Song Qianji interjected, "I know what you're asking. There was no spell, and I didn't tamper with the formation. I simply discussed it with them last night. If they were willing to bloom, they did; if not, they didn't. Everything should be done willingly."
The ancient pine, as old as Hua Wei Mountain itself, had roots stretching in all directions.
It relayed the message, allowing the Fountain of Immortality to seep into the soil and nourish the other plants.
"I didn't harm anyone either. At that time, the music and the formation had merged into one. Breaking the melody meant breaking the formation. They were injured by the backlash of the formation, harming themselves."
Ziye Wenshu continued to watch him, his clear black-and-white eyes blinking.
Song Qianji lowered his head, fiddling with the tassels on his ceremonial robe. "I've explained everything clearly. Do you not believe me?"
Earlier, on the Fleeting Water Bridge, he had deceived everyone with a potato flower from a jade box, likely destroying his credibility in the other's eyes.
Yet Ziye Wenshu replied solemnly, "Thank you."
What truly reversed the seasons was not a formation; what united hearts was not fear of authority.
Just like the disciples who followed Song Qianji, the refugees and Rogue Cultivators who sought refuge in Thousand Canals.
In this world, no matter how difficult or perilous things may be, they pale in comparison to genuine willingness.
Yet knowing is easy; acting is hard. Few can truly achieve it.
Ziye Wenshu thought, this must be why the Calligrapher Sage entrusted Painted Spring Mountain to Song Qianji.
Song Qianji was overjoyed. "No need for thanks, as long as you promise me..."
Before he could finish, a sharp gust of wind brought a white shadow hurtling toward them!
Ziye Wenshu instinctively reached for his blade but quickly realized it wasn't a hidden weapon.
His blade was too sharp; drawing it might accidentally harm others, so he simply sidestepped. The white shadow brushed past his ear, leaving a chill.
Another white mass flew toward them, and Song Qianji casually swatted it with his sleeve.
Thwack! A snowball struck Ziye Wenshu's shoulder as he turned away.
Song Qianji: "...It wasn't intentional."
Turning around, a burst of white mist clouded his vision, dazzling and chaotic.
The youths of Thousand Canals surged past them like a wave of heat, accompanied by shouts, laughter, running footsteps, and crude curses.
"Damn you, Meng Heze! If I don't shove you into the snow today, I'm not your grandpa!" It was Lin Feiyuan.
"Who used ice? Who the hell used ice to ambush me?" It was Ji Chen.
Snow shaken from the branches by the laughter sprinkled over Ziye Wenshu's head and shoulders.
Ziye Wenshu stood frozen.
As a master of shadow-shifting techniques, he could have evaded every snowflake if he wished, leaving his robes untouched.
"These little rascals!" Song Qianji laughed in exasperation, awkwardly reaching out to brush the snow off the other.
"Please excuse their behavior, Fellow Daoist. They're not usually like this. They're just a bit carried away with excitement today. Ahem, I didn't teach them this."
The disciples of Green Cliff were stunned into silence, utterly bewildered.
"What are these people doing? It doesn't look like ice skating."
"Who knows? Their words and actions are crude and reckless. They don't act like cultivators at all, but they seem... happy."
Another white mass came flying.
"Senior Brother Song, join us!"
Song Qianji swept up a snowball with his long ceremonial sleeve and hurled it back, shouting angrily, "Join you, my foot! Who's still messing around?!"Halfway through the sky, fierce energy surged, stirring up swirling snow and dust that fell like a shower of crystalline ice.
The youths burst into raucous laughter, scattering in an instant like startled birds and beasts.
Song Qianji glanced at Ziye Wenshu, now dusted in white snow, and the stunned expressions of the Green Cliff disciples, and couldn't help but sigh.
Success foiled at the last moment. All because of that useless bunch back home.
But then he heard the man speak softly:
"I agree."
...
"Brother Song, did we embarrass you just now?" Ji Chen asked quietly. "I'll go back and urge Wei Ping to compile the latest anthology, send it to those problem-solving enthusiasts, and make it up to them properly!"
"No need, everyone performed exceptionally well." Song Qianji was in good spirits, his steps light and brisk.
"Really?" Meng Heze asked.
"Of course!" Song Qianji declared confidently.
Lin Feiyuan tentatively probed, "Are you sober now?"
Song Qianji: "I was never drunk."
They had come fully prepared, but left with ease and delight.
The winter sun set early. After bidding farewell to the Green Cliff disciples, twilight was already approaching.
As the Thousand Canals disciples passed through the mountain gate and looked back, the magnificent palaces and halls of Hua Wei Mountain glittered with golden light under the sunset, yet somehow felt inexplicably cold.
"Did we really get out that easily? Will they still come looking for trouble on our way back?"
"They have their own mess to clean up—why would they bother with us?"
"Even if they want to target someone, they should go after the Wei family first!"
"Ha, let them fight among themselves."
Song Qianji smiled. "Let's go shopping."
The disciples cheered in unison.
All over Hua Wei City, people were discussing the events of that morning. Most of the storytellers were ordinary mortals and Rogue Cultivators who had come to witness the excitement.
The wounded Wei Zhanyang, Chen Hongzhu who swore to devote herself to the Dao, and Song Qianji who surpassed even Fairy Miaoyan and the Celestial Sound Sect disciples.
Enough material for taverns and teahouses to gossip about for half a year.
Ji Chen went to pick out hairpins for his sister, while Meng Heze bought pastries for his parents.
Amid the revelry and peace, a sudden thought flashed through Lin Feiyuan's mind.
He didn't want to spoil the mood, but it was an occupational hazard for an assassin—if he were to kill Song Qianji again, he would choose this very moment.
"What's wrong?" Song Qianji asked.
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