Ji Chen, having kept track of the time, leaped down from the treetop:
"Even if Senior Brother Song cooked three large pots and used up all the seasonings in the kitchen, that brat Wei Ping should have finished eating by now!"
Meng Heze glanced at the sky: "Let's go, the rain's getting heavier."
The world was shrouded in dim darkness.
Braving the fine drizzle of early spring, the two headed toward Song Courtyard, not forgetting to mock the honest Wei Ping for his noodle-eating.
Amid the rolling thunder, a piercing, mournful laughter suddenly rang out from the courtyard.
"Something's wrong!" Ji Chen's expression shifted abruptly.
Meng Heze was the first to burst through the door, just in time to see Song Qianji and Wei Ping standing opposite each other across a stone table in the rain.
The candle on the table had gone out, leaving only an old sword and an empty porcelain bowl.
"I prided myself on being clever all my life, but I misjudged you. Consider me blind." Wei Ping threw his head back and laughed wildly.
"Whoosh!"
The lightning flashed stark white, the sword gleamed cold and bright. He actually drew his sword, pointing it directly at Song Qianji.
Meng Heze's mind buzzed, the world spinning around him: "Wei Ping, have you gone mad?"
"Don't call me Wei Ping!" Wei Zhenyu turned and roared.
Ji Chen glanced at the noodle bowl, forcing out a strained smile: "Brother Wei, it's my fault! I should have been the one eating the noodles today. If you're angry, blame me, don't take it out on Brother Song. Let's talk this through properly. Put the sword down first."
He deliberately joked around, hoping to break through Wei Ping's frenzied emotions.
But Song Qianji raised his hand, stopping Meng Heze and Ji Chen from approaching.
The two had no choice but to halt under the plum blossom tree, watching helplessly as the sharp sword tip hovered at Song Qianji's throat.
"I taught Formation Arts to Little Ji, forged a sword for Little Meng, but I never taught you anything. Inside and outside Song Courtyard, you've worked hard and achieved much. Having delayed you for half a year, if you want to stab me with this sword, then do it." Song Qianji's voice was indifferent, his eyelids lowered. "I won't fight back."
The heavy rain poured down, fallen petals and broken leaves dancing wildly. The night clouds were torn apart by lightning, the two figures flickering between light and shadow.
The one holding the sharp blade trembled all over like a madman; the one empty-handed stood firm as a mountain, confident and unafraid.
"Is that what you think?" Wei Zhenyu's eyes reddened.
So in Song Qianji's heart, loyalty and righteousness were weighed on a scale, measured clearly all along. I risked life and death to stand before you tonight, yet you say a year of kindness can be repaid with one sword strike, as if we're even.
"Not only are you cowardly, you're also heartless!" he shouted, his Spirit Qi erupting violently.
Countless raindrops shattered into a misty spray, not daring to approach him.
Meng Heze and Ji Chen were horrified.
"Crack!" Wei Zhenyu snapped the long sword in two. "If you won't do this, I will. Not because everyone says I should, not because I want fame, wealth, or beauties, but because I want to do it myself."
He flicked his sleeve, hurling the broken sword.
A nearby flower trellis collapsed with a crash, leaving a mess on the ground.
Wei Zhenyu turned, his left hand cut by the sword blade, blood dripping profusely: "The loyalty between us ends like this sword. From now on, we have nothing to do with each other!"
Old wounds reopened, hot blood flowed down, washed away by the rain.
Ordinary people might cut their robes or mats to sever ties, but they were swordsmen—they could only break a sword.
Meng Heze reached out, wanting to grab Wei Ping's sleeve.
Song Qianji roared: "Let him go!"
Wei Ping's clothes were soaked, his face expressionless as he brushed past Meng Heze and Ji Chen as if passing two small trees.
As he stepped over the threshold, he suddenly remembered something:
"Song Qianji, has no one ever told you? The noodles you cook are truly terrible."
Song Qianji closed his eyes, seemingly unmoved.
Wei Zhenyu vanished into the pitch-black curtain of rain, never looking back.After a long while, Song Qianji opened his eyes and glanced at the collapsed flower trellis, staggering a step. Ji Chen and Meng Heze hurried forward to support him into the house and help him sit down.
Following the spiritual pressure of the treasures, Ji Chen retrieved the Painted Spring Mountain, Seven Wonders Zither, and chess manual from the vegetable patch, wiping away the mud and water from their surfaces: "Brother Song, what happened between you and Brother Wei to cause such a conflict?"
Song Qianji shook his head without speaking.
Meng Heze glared toward the courtyard gate and said angrily, "That bastard Wei Ping—I'll go catch him and bring him back!"
"No." Song Qianji's voice was hoarse. "If you encounter him outside, don't provoke him."
"Outside?" Ji Chen was stunned, his expression turning somewhat panicked. "Brother Song, do you want us to leave as well?"
What was Song Qianji thinking?
Chen Hongzhu had sworn on the Fleeting Water Bridge to cut ties with him.
Lin Feiyuan had jumped off the boat and vanished without a trace.
In the heavy rain, Wei Ping had broken his sword and spoken the harshest words.
Yet Song Qianji seemed accustomed to it all, at least showing no outward signs of sorrow.
Ji Chen felt confused, almost unable to distinguish which parts of this person were gentleness and which were detachment and indifference.
Song Qianji wasn't overthinking it. He wasn't heartless or unfeeling—he simply had a much higher tolerance for loneliness, separation, and misunderstanding than most people.
"In your future travels, there will inevitably be times when your paths cross. Remember, don't actively provoke him."
Song Qianji thought to himself, even if you two don't leave Thousand Canals in the next couple of years and focus on secluded cultivation, three years from now when the secret Domain opens, cultivators from the entire Cultivation World will swarm in to compete for opportunities and resources. You should go temper yourselves and try your luck.
But Ji Chen and Meng Heze had suffered terribly tragic fates in their previous lives, evidence of their tainted luck. If they became mortal enemies with the heaven-blessed savior, a head-on confrontation would likely end badly for them. It was better to avoid clashing directly.
Meng Heze frowned as he picked up the broken sword embedded in the soil: "Wei Ping is extreme and arrogant, yet he suppressed his nature in Song Courtyard, acting humble and submissive. Now that he's left filled with resentment, he's bound to hold a grudge. If we leave him unchecked, I fear he might harm you in the future, Senior Brother."
Song Qianji took the sword and said indifferently, "Let him be."
Meng Heze thought, even when Wei Ping pointed his sword at Senior Brother tonight, Senior Brother still remembered their past friendship and couldn't bear to hurt him.
"Go back." Song Qianji said. "I need to rest."
Meng and Ji hesitated, wanting to say more but holding back.
As they were about to leave, they suddenly heard him ask: "Was the noodle really that bad?"
Meng Heze was taken aback and hurriedly explained: "Don't listen to Wei Ping's nonsense, Brother Song! It wasn't that bad—just ordinarily bad... Ow! Ji Chen, why did you kick me!"
...
Of course, it was extremely bad—it's just that the one who ate it had never pointed it out.
Song Qianji had always believed himself to be a culinary genius until he tasted his own cooking and discovered its hundred bitter flavors.
Even more bitter than life itself.
The spring rain came in haste—arriving at midnight and departing by dawn.
With Manager Wei gone, Thousand Canals felt like a gaping hole had been torn open, letting cold winds rush through.
The market district, household registration office, city defense team, God Temple prison, and Trial Hall lost their decision-maker, and progress on those unfinished bridges and roads came to a standstill. Manager Wei had possessed extraordinary energy, with his decisions and deployments covering every aspect.
Xu Kanshan and Qiu Dacheng hastily took over but found themselves overwhelmed, forced to seek Song Qianji's decisions.
Ji Xing and Zhou Xiaoyun missed Wei Ping's sweet soups and pastries, and even more so his understanding nature, sweet words, and conversational skills.
Ji Chen could only comfort his younger sister: "Brother Wei left temporarily to confuse the enemy. Brother Song assigned him a secret mission... You must never tell anyone!"
After repeating it enough times, he almost started to believe it himself.Even Meng Heze's parents missed Wei Ping, often mentioning their godson in front of their own son.
Unwilling to sadden his parents, Meng Heze vaguely fabricated lies: "Senior Brother Song sent him out on some business. He'll return once it's done."
When Wei Ping was around, Meng Heze would nitpick everything about him, finding fault at every turn.
Yet it was Wei Ping's absence that he struggled with most.
Only Song Qianji was the exception.
To others, his life seemed entirely unaffected.
He still woke naturally each day, spending his daylight hours rebuilding flower trellises, planting new vegetables, and busily preparing for spring plowing.
He even designated a fertile "seed field" within the heavenly city, personally sowing the superior grain seeds selected during winter to begin cultivating improved varieties.
At dusk, Song Qianji received disciples for Q&A sessions, answering the myriad peculiar questions from Thousand Canals disciples.
Evenings were mostly spent reclining in his lounge chair gazing at the sky, occasionally playing a couple games of chess.
This was how he'd lived day after day before Wei Ping arrived.
If there was any difference, it was that he no longer let others cook, occasionally making noodles for himself - though his culinary skills improved at a glacial pace.
"So I truly have no talent for cooking after all."
Unable to bear watching Song Qianji torment himself, Ji Chen suggested to Meng Heze: "Let's hire another steward who can cook."
"Bring in another Wei Ping? So he can point his sword at senior brother again?" Meng Heze refused.
"When we first came to Thousand Canals, Song Courtyard only had the two of us. After all this time, it's just us two again. Oh, and him." Ji Chen stroked the orange stray cat rubbing against his knees.
Meng Heze scolded the cat: "Both people who raised you abandoned you, yet you still dare come here for free meals!"
The stray cat knew how to assess situations, immediately rolling over to expose its soft belly fur, looking utterly innocent. Meng Heze's anger melted away.
From then on, he took up the important task of feeding the cat.
Some bold Thousand Canals disciples seized the opportunity to ask why Steward Wei had suddenly left Thousand Canals.
Song Qianji found this difficult to explain, so he said: "He said my noodles tasted terrible."
The story spread from ten to hundreds, becoming known as "The Fallout Over a Bowl of Noodles."
...
Wei Zhenyu left in anger, riding his sword through the wind.
Three days later, his temper cooled, but he was already a hundred li from Thousand Canals.
Hesitating and unable to proceed, he ultimately couldn't resist turning back. Changing his appearance, he took the canal entrance exam and slipped into the heavenly city.
These short six months in Thousand Canals felt richer than all the memories of over ten previous years.
"It's not that I can't bear to leave. I just want to see how miserable you'll be without me."
Thousand Canals now bloomed with spring flowers and green willows, spring rivers swelling with water, vibrant with life - completely different from when he first arrived, and having nothing to do with him anymore.
Walking through the streets, hearing others mention Steward Wei brought him both joy and bitterness.
When word spread from Song Xian Guan: "All under Song Courtyard's banner, when traveling abroad, must not trouble Wei Zhenyu," his heart grew troubled and chaotic, cursing Song Qianji for his hypocritical posturing.
"The emissaries from Great Yan Sect have arrived! Come, let's go see the excitement!"
Suddenly, commotion erupted around him as crowds gathered, sweeping Wei Zhenyu along toward the Immortal Official Manor.
Song Qianji was receiving visitors in the square before the manor.
Ji Chen and Meng Heze led two young cultivators wearing Great Yan Sect's purple disciple robes.
They carried two large bamboo cases that thumped rhythmically. Suspecting hidden weapons, Wei Zhenyu stared intently.
After exchanging greetings, the two pulled out two iron beast cubs from the cases, handling them like baskets of fruit, directly shoving them into Song Qianji's arms.No one had ever seen such peculiar beasts before, finding them soft, lazy, and adorably clumsy.
"They were sent by the Lady in Purple. Just a humble gift, not worthy of much regard."
Song Qianji looked embarrassed: "Spiritual beasts are too precious. I can't keep them alive."
But the two cubs clung to his legs, climbing upward and startling him into frozen stillness, only able to dodge awkwardly.
Wei Zhenyu found it amusing yet felt a sour pang, thinking, You're living quite comfortably, with people remembering to send you spiritual beasts.
"Outside Huawel Sect's Hundred Flowers Pavilion, the lady said she would gift you Iron Beasts. If they aren't accepted, she fears being mocked for going back on her word. The spiritual beasts are trivial, but the lady's reputation matters greatly. Please endure it, Immortal Official Song," a disciple from the Great Yan Sect persuaded. "Don't judge them by their current state—they grow up fiercely brave. In peacetime, they guard homes and gates; on the battlefield, they charge ahead fearlessly. Why not take one as a mount?"
Song Qianji showed skepticism.
Guard homes and charge ahead? With these?
If I ride an Iron Beast slowly into view and release a Wheat Field Domain, will I just make the enemies laugh themselves to death?
Meanwhile, female cultivators like Zhou Xiaoyun and Ji Xing were quite taken with them, eagerly offering to learn how to raise spiritual beasts.
In the end, the two Iron Beasts stayed. Song Qianji reciprocated with ten pounds of wheat as a gift.
The next day, an envoy from Green Cliff visited, delivering a thick legal code.
"Courtyard Overseer has received your letter, Immortal Official Song. This book is the response," Zimo said with a smile. "Though many of Green Cliff's laws may not fully suit Thousand Canals, there are always overlapping principles."
Wei Zhenyu thought, When did you write that letter, Song Qianji? I had no idea. After one trip to Huawel Sect, you've made so many new friends, all rushing to help you.
The Green Cliff envoy added, "Everything should have laws to follow and precedents to reference. That way, no matter who is absent, every place can operate as usual."
Song Qianji laughed: "Xiao Meng, bring the thank-you gifts I prepared. They're all homegrown—take some back to taste."
At the estate gate, host and guests parted joyfully, with resounding applause.
Wei Zhenyu sneered and turned away: "Thousand Canals doesn't lack me anyway. Fine, this world is short of everything except barren lands and suffering mortals. I'll find some desolate mountains and vicious waters, build a magnificent city, raise an army, and in a few years, we'll see whose land prospers more... When heaven and earth collapse in a century, if you won't save them, I will."
With that, he left for distant lands, never looking back.
"What are you looking at, Senior Brother?" Meng Heze asked. "Searching for someone?"
Song Qianji shook his head: "Must have been mistaken."
He thought he saw Wei Zhenyu's shadow, fleeting and vanishing.
After a moment's thought, he said, "From today onward, every three days, I will spar with each of you personally."
"Why, Brother Song?" Ji Chen asked, puzzled.
"To amuse myself."
Song Qianji thought, Of course, it's to prepare early for the secret realm opening in three years. So you won't need rescuing if you run into Wei Zhenyu outside and he takes his anger out on you.
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