The silver crescent moon hung on the treetops, casting a colder light over the mountain forest.
The crimson stream murmured as it flowed, its smooth pebbles shimmering faintly under the moonlight like giant eggs left by monstrous beasts.
Night dew dripped from leaf tips, dampening Song Qianji’s shoulders with an icy chill.
Captain Lu Zhou whispered, “Xiao Song, no need to stand guard tonight. Wei Wang’s people are patrolling in shifts all night. You should rest.”
Song Qianji nodded. While distributing talismans to his teammates, he casually glanced up, watching Wei Zhenyu’s retreating figure.
In this heavy dew-laden night, with a sprite lurking in the shadows, why is he going alone while all his people are meditating inside the protective array?
Surely, he can’t be going to admire the moon.
...
“Look at the moon,” Ji Chen gazed at the sky, pointing at the silver arc in the night. “Senior Brother Song must be reclining on his lounge chair right now. I just wonder if the moon over Song Courtyard is as bright tonight…”
He stood on the empty cliff, one hand pointing at the moon, his wide sleeves billowing in the wind.
Below the cliff, a sunken valley cradled a roaring river rushing through.
Endless mountains stretched along both banks, shrouded by miasma-filled forests that blotted out the sky.
Only Ji Chen’s cliff stood barren—no trees, no grass—with a lone ancient pine towering amid clusters of jagged rocks.
Curses rose from the river: “Bright like your damned Song Courtyard! You treacherous, vicious scum—may you die horribly!”
The shouts were drowned by the roaring water, carried up the cliff by the night wind as fragmented obscenities.
Ji Chen looked down and chuckled. “Friend Zhao Ren, I kindly invited you to enjoy the moon in the river. It’s hardly proper to curse me. This secret realm is vast, yet you crossed paths with me again. Seems our fate isn’t settled yet.”
The river surged violently, white-capped waves crashing skyward. Occasionally, rocks tumbled down, instantly swallowed by the furious currents.
Yet a man in the water seemed tethered by invisible ropes at the river’s center. No matter how fiercely he struggled, he could only endure the pounding waves, gulping down the murky crimson water: “Who the hell shares any fate with you?!”
Ji Chen subtly moved his moon-pointing finger. Delicate golden threads flashed in the water, and Zhao Ren screamed, drifting westward.
Countless fine threads shot out from boulders and trees along both riverbanks, crisscrossing the river surface like a sprawling web.
Anyone entering this array was like a fly caught in a spider’s trap.
Ji Chen sighed. “I didn’t want this either. You ambushed me here with your men while I was separated from my team. Hardly justified to curse me.”
Bitterness churned in Zhao Ren’s heart. Initially, he had spotted the Thousand Canals team in the secret realm and considered taking another route. But seeing Ji Chen straying alone, farther from his group, he thought fortune had smiled on him. He quietly trailed him with several Zhao Family elders.
Under the cover of night and howling wind, the perfect opportunity arose—capture Ji Chen, repay past humiliations a thousandfold, then silence him forever. Only then could he quell his hatred and avenge the grudge from the Immortal Official Manor well incident.
“You did this on purpose! You lured us here with a ruse, setting up this array to torment us!” Fear gripped him, but he mustered his last strength to keep cursing.
“Don’t flatter yourself. I buried a hundred formation materials here—it couldn’t possibly be for you,” Ji Chen laughed. “Just letting you test it in advance. Friend Zhao, could you drift a bit eastward?”
Ji Chen adjusted the array disk. Golden threads interwove in the river, dragging Zhao Ren eastward.
Usually, when refining his array variations, Ji Chen tested them on a few mice. Finding a live human trial subject was rare, and his eyes sparkled with excitement.
Suddenly, another figure appeared on the cliff. Zhao Ren looked up and shouted for help, but his heart sank into despair. It was Meng Heze.
Meng Heze leaned against the ancient pine, his arms crossed over his sword, ignoring the man in the river. “Confirmed. It’s him.”Ji Chen irritably ran his fingers through his hair: "We've been advancing triumphantly all the way, our morale is high, and we even have a string of Rogue Cultivators following us to join our cause. If we change our route just because we see him, what will outsiders think?"
Song Qianji knew that even if Wei Zhenyu held a grudge and sought revenge, he wouldn't truly harm the disciples of Thousand Canals.
But he might speak with sarcasm and deliberately pick fights. Both sides were young and hot-blooded—a single glare could ignite their tempers.
Without anyone around to restrain them, things could easily spiral out of control.
So he had preemptively instructed Meng Heze and Ji Chen to avoid Wei Zhenyu as much as possible.
Meng and Ji agreed verbally, but the more Song Qianji emphasized it, the more resentful they grew.
Firstly, they refused to believe they were inferior to Wei Zhenyu. Secondly, while Wei Zhenyu had lived gloriously abroad all these years, he hadn't sent a single letter back.
When "Wei Ping" was around, Meng Heze found him pretentious and artificial, yet he effortlessly won everyone's favor regardless of closeness or distance.
Meng Heze and Wei Ping were at odds, relying entirely on Ji Chen to mediate between them.
In the first spring after Wei Ping left, Meng Heze finally mastered Ji Chen's handwriting, stole Ji Bianxiu's seal, and secretly wrote letters by lamplight.
He ruined too many drafts, filling the room with crumpled paper balls, until his parents discovered him and he had to confess: "I'm sending these to your godson."
Meng's mother said happily, "Then you must write properly! Ask him how he's doing out there, if he's made new friends, if he has new clothes to wear…"
Meng Heze agreed to everything, but the eighteen letters sank like stones, vanishing without a trace.
In the second winter, Meng Heze snapped his brush, smashed his inkstone, and never wrote another letter.
"He was the one who broke our bond first. If anyone should avoid anyone, it should be him avoiding us. Brother Song is benevolent and doesn't bother with him, but what about our thousands of Thousand Canals disciples? Should they always bow to Wei Wang's subordinates when traveling abroad?" Meng Heze said coldly. "If we don't teach him a lesson and crush his arrogance, he'll really think he's invincible."
"But…" Ji Chen paused, then looked up at the moon again, his voice slightly lowered: "Let's not let Brother Song know, to spare him the worry."
Meng Heze nodded: "No need to tell me—I've already given instructions. Everyone knows."
Everything that happened in the secret realm would remain there forever, washed away by the surging Blood River.
...
As dawn approached, Wei Zhenyu appeared draped in cold dew, speaking succinctly: "Let's go."
Zhu Sheng shouted: "Move out!"
The Silver Armor Squad, who had been resting on their weapons awaiting orders, instantly rose. Their armor clanged as they formed ranks neatly and sped off in a cloud of dust.
The Rogue Cultivator team was startled, scrambling to their feet in disarray.
The plump Formation Master hastily stuffed all the formation materials into his Storage Bag: "With such a large group, I thought it would take at least an incense stick's time to break camp. How can they just leave like this?"
"Their discipline is strict—they don't seem like cultivators, more like mortal soldiers," Captain Lu Zhou marveled. "What kind of force could rival this Silver Armor?"
"We're lucky this time—we've bet on the right treasure."
The Rogue Cultivator team rubbed their hands in anticipation. If Wei Wang became the biggest winner in the secret realm, it would undoubtedly benefit them the most.
The Blood River Valley's miasma forests covered four great mountains. The Silver Armor team traversed the rugged terrain like a majestic silver dragon.
Today, the Rogue Cultivator team changed their strategy: the captain led the team's strongest fighters to charge ahead of the Silver Armor Squad, clearing the path.
Zhang Hou ran off alone to lure solitary demon beasts.
The medical cultivators and Formation Masters brought up the rear, gathering Spirit Herbs."As for young Song..." Captain Lu Zhou only remembered there was one more team member after making all the arrangements. He looked left and right, but couldn't see what this slender fellow could possibly contribute. "Just roam around. Help out wherever you're needed."
"Alright." Song Qianji couldn't help but laugh seeing their enthusiastic energy.
Lu Zhou and the others cleared obstacles, swinging their swords and blades to chop vines and fell trees, resembling street sweepers cleaning the roads outside the Immortal Official Manor.
Zhang Hou dashed back and forth, directing the Silver Armor Squad to fight demon beasts, like a diligent vegetable distributor.
The medical cultivator held open a storage bag while the formation master waved a small shovel, resembling village girls picking mushrooms.
Occasionally, they encountered small sect teams who would shrink back upon seeing the Silver Armor Squad and quickly change routes.
The rogue cultivator team basked in the attention from passersby, feeling as if they were parading through the dense forest, swelling with pride and satisfaction.
Song Qianji discreetly took out several protective talismans and hid them in his sleeve.
A sword cultivator complained irritably: "Why are you always wandering around here? You're blocking my view!"
Suddenly, he felt a pat on his back - the usually shy and honest young Song had actually reached out to slap his shoulder: "You all keep busy, I'm just looking around."
The sword cultivator was stunned, wanting to curse, but Song had already run far away.
Song Qianji acted discreetly, secretly placing talismans on all members of the rogue cultivator team.
He could now confirm that Wei Zhenyu came to the miasma forest not for spirit herbs or demon cores, but solely to enter the Blood River Valley's underground palace.
Wealth comes through danger - he had explored it once in his previous life too.
Wei Zhenyu remained expressionless, walking briskly.
He maintained constant vigilance, not only toward external threats but also absolute control over his own team.
He noticed everyone working tensely except that talismaster who looked completely at ease, as if seeing something amusing.
What exactly was he laughing at?
Wei Zhenyu made a gesture, summoning Li Ciquan for a brief whispered exchange.
Soon after, Song Qianji saw Li Ciquan warmly greeting him and running to his side.
"Fellow Daoist Song, like me, you're also a cultivator from mortal origins, right? May I ask where your hometown is?"
"Pingning Town, just a small place."
"Who was Fellow Daoist Song's teacher?"
"I cultivated through self-study, never had a formal master."
"Why does Fellow Daoist Song keep laughing?"
"Oh, I have a low threshold for laughter. I laugh at trees and flowers, and even reciting your name makes me laugh."
Li Ciquan steeled himself to continue making conversation when suddenly the talismaster said: "Since we're getting along so well, let me gift you some talismans I drew!"
Li Ciquan initially wanted to refuse - Prince Wei also understood talisman arts, and their team's talismaster was taught by Prince Wei, naturally much more skilled than this outsider.
"Keep them as backups, don't disdain them." Song Qianji forcibly stuffed them into his arms.
Li Ciquan reconsidered - he was an amateur who couldn't discern the quality of talismans.
But if Prince Wei examined them personally, he could surely determine this person's background: "Then I thank you, Fellow Daoist!"
His eyes showing gratitude, he took the talismans back to report.
This special attention made the rogue cultivators quite envious.
Late at night, they gathered around Song Qianji to scrutinize him, trying to discern some extraordinary quality.
But Song Qianji was pulled away again by Li Ciquan, this time to grill beast meat.
"After we leave the secret realm, I'll find a master too and properly learn some skills." The plump formation master watched the rising smoke and grill while rubbing his stomach.
"Find a master? You'd be better off pledging allegiance to Prince Wei." Captain Lu Zhou said.Today they received rare spirit herbs and beast pelts as their share. Li Ciquan, on behalf of Wei Zhenyu, also distributed a low-grade magical artifact to each person as a reward. Everyone marveled at Wei Wang's fairness in rewards and punishments and his generosity. Those who hadn't contributed yesterday only received spirit herbs, while those who helped today gained extra benefits—proof that working under Wei Wang meant more effort led to greater rewards, with no labor going unpaid.
The healing cultivator said, "Exactly. It's hard for rogue cultivators to find masters with their existing skills. Better to pledge allegiance to Wei Wang or Song Wang."
The plump formation master shook his head: "...I meant apprenticing under a head chef at a restaurant to learn a couple of good dishes."
The atmosphere fell silent. After a long pause, the sword cultivator uttered three words: "Makes sense."
Song Qianji glanced subtly toward Wei Zhenyu's direction and noticed the other had only taken one bite of roasted meat, his expression cold.
He couldn't help frowning. Is my cooking really that bad? Why can others eat it, but it doesn't suit your taste alone?
He then saw Wei Zhenyu dust his cloak and enter the forest alone, just like last night.
Song Qianji stood up: "I'm going for a walk."
Team leader Lu Zhou responded casually: "Come back early."
Everyone knew he was cautious and timid, unlikely to wander far.
Song Qianji headed in another direction, circling a few trees two or three times in the forest, pretending to be lost with a vexed expression.
Wei Zhenyu was an expert at concealing his aura, leaving no traces when traveling alone. Ordinary divine sense detection couldn't locate him.
But the talismans Song Qianji had drawn carried his unique mark—only he could sense their orientation.
He had forcibly stuffed a stack to Li Ciquan during the day, and now at least one must have reached Wei Zhenyu's hands.
He moved stealthily toward Wei Zhenyu's position.
The mountain forest was silent, moonlight sieved through dense leaves into fragmented shadows.
The darkness made all sounds and scents sharper.
"Fellow Daoist Song." A familiar voice sounded behind him. "What are you doing here?"
Song Qianji saw Wei Zhenyu's elongated shadow.
Alone?
Song Qianji's nose twitched slightly.
The night wind lifted the edges of Wei Zhenyu's cloak, carrying a faint, familiar cloying fragrance.
It flashed and vanished without a trace.
It was the sprite's scent.
He went to see that sprite again?!
Wei Zhenyu narrowed his eyes slightly, his tone intensifying: "Song Xun?"
The night breeze was cool, fallen leaves rustling. A leaf drifting leisurely before his eyes suddenly exploded into powder.
Song Qianji thought, Why are you being so fierce with me? but maintained a fearful, honest facade to save Wei Zhenyu's pride.
He hurriedly turned back, retreating two steps, and pointed at the sky: "Came to look at... at the moon. Got lost."
"Was it nice?"
Song Qianji said: "Passable."
"Fellow Daoist Song, after a day of running about, you still have energy to admire the moon. How about joining me to hunt beasts tomorrow?" Wei Zhenyu said slowly.
Song Qianji nodded meekly: "Well, that works too."
With this person's suspicious nature, more words meant more mistakes.
Wei Zhenyu said angrily: "Works how? If I told you to go die, would you go too?"
Song Qianji was speechless, thinking Wei Zhenyu would never talk this much to an unfamiliar talisman cultivator. His current emotional instability was likely due to recently seeing the sprite. But since Wei Zhenyu had killed the snake earlier, he must have seen through the illusion—why keep meeting it repeatedly?
"I knew someone once." Wei Zhenyu suddenly laughed.
"What?" Song Qianji was startled—the topic had shifted too abruptly.Wei Zhenyu gazed at the moon and sighed softly, as if reminiscing: "When things are calm, he has the best temper—always saying 'close enough,' 'either way is fine,' 'I know a little.' You'd think he treats people exceptionally well, genuinely considering you a brother. But if you disagree with him, he'll cut ties with you instantly, leaving no trace of sentiment, as if you never existed."
Song Qianji exclaimed in surprise, "Oh? There's such a person in this world?"
Wei Zhenyu's smile vanished, replaced by a chilling coldness: "You're a bit like him."
Song Qianji's mind buzzed—this little brat was slandering him! And doing it in front of a Talismaster they'd just met, insulting him in a roundabout way. Meng Heze is ten times more sincere and upright than you, Ji Chen a hundred times more pure-hearted.
"Do you know who that person is?" Wei Zhenyu asked.
Song Qianji thought, I have no interest in knowing.
Just as Wei Zhenyu was about to speak, his expression shifted abruptly.
A distant, piercing scream echoed—faint due to the distance, but unmistakably agonized.
Wei Zhenyu pivoted and dashed toward the sound.
Song Qianji thought this kid wasn't suspicious enough—rushing off alone like that. What if it was an enemy trap, luring him into a snare?
"Why did you follow me?" Wei Zhenyu stopped and frowned at the panting Talismaster behind him.
"I—I came to accompany Wei Wang."
Wei Zhenyu scoffed: "With your cultivation, can you even see clearly?"
Song Qianji shook his head: "Of course not."
He then channeled his Spirit Qi and clearly saw the raging river, a figure floating in the water, battered and swallowed by massive waves, rising and sinking repeatedly.
Looking at the Array Lines, they were complex and precise, and somewhat familiar.
Song Qianji followed the lines upward and saw an even more familiar silhouette.
The pure-hearted Ji Chen was sitting on the cliff edge, swinging his legs. Song Qianji focused, filtering out the water sounds.
"Fellow Daoist Zhao Ren, you've been soaking for two days and nights now. You'll soon complete your mission and retire," Ji Chen said.
Zhao Ren wept bitterly, alternating between desperate pleas—"Just kill me, give me a quick death!"—and venomous curses—"If you torture me to death today, someone will avenge me!"
Song Qianji felt as if struck by lightning. Ji Chen's back, reflected in his eyes, overlapped faintly with memories of his past life.
It's over. He's been corrupted.
If he had known this would happen, he shouldn't have let Ji Chen witness him interrogating Zhao Ren that night.
Meanwhile, the upright Meng Heze leaned against a tree trunk, holding his sword, looking utterly bored and accustomed to the scene: "Tch, are you done yet?"
Song Qianji staggered a step, muttering: "...Another one led astray."
Wei Zhenyu caught him: "Did you twist your ankle?"
Their movement drew attention. A deep voice cut through the roaring water like a sharp sword:
"Which fellow Daoist is hiding over there? Why not show yourself and make a friend?!"
It was Meng Heze.
Before his words faded, Meng Heze twisted his sword hilt.
The ancient pine behind him snapped in half. The massive tree, thick enough for three people to embrace, shot out like a swift arrow propelled by his sword energy.
The tree soared over the river, straight toward the opposite bank.
The sword energy was overwhelming, unstoppable.
Wei Zhenyu flicked his finger lightly, striking a falling leaf in front of Song Qianji.
The leaf shot out like an emerald kingfisher piercing the night sky.
Song Qianji was slightly startled—so fast!
"Boom!"
Above the river, the giant tree collided with the nearly invisible leaf. High temperatures erupted, sparks exploding instantly.
The tree shattered into splinters. Fiery fragments fell like a meteor shower into the rolling river, pelting Zhao Ren's head and face.
In the blaze of this fiery rain, the hundred-zhang-wide river surface was illuminated.The mountain walls and forests on both banks seemed bathed in the lingering glow of sunset, briefly illuminating the faces of the four figures on the cliff.
Across the Red River.
One side was rugged with strange rocks, the other lush with dense woods.
As the rain of fire ceased, darkness reclaimed the wilderness.
Meng Heze straightened up, feeling a vague sense of strangeness.
Though he had never seen the person beside Wei Zhenyu before, he instinctively glanced twice before returning his gaze to his old acquaintance: "You've come."
Song Qianji's lips twitched slightly, his emotions complex. So Meng Heze and Ji Chen both had another side to them—only he had thought they were still young.
In truth, considering their age, both had reached the time in their previous lives when they began to make a name for themselves, spreading fearsome reputations.
At least they were faring better than in their past lives, so it couldn’t be said that he had taught them poorly. Song Qianji consoled himself.
Wei Zhenyu met Meng Heze’s gaze, stepping in front of Song Qianji as he murmured:
"If you're afraid, go back first. They won’t trouble you."
He took two steps forward, gathering his spirit qi as he declared, "I will cross the river at dawn tomorrow. You should leave quickly."
Song Qianji choked back a retort. Do you even know how to speak?
If you don’t, you might as well turn and leave.
"Make way for you? A joke!" Meng Heze threw his head back and laughed. "What if I refuse?"
Ji Chen remarked leisurely, "This miasma forest is full of rare flowers and herbs. Bringing a few back for Senior Brother Song to plant in Song Courtyard would surely please him."
Song Qianji’s vision darkened.
What would please me most is if you all pretended not to know each other and went your separate ways immediately.
Hearing the words "Senior Brother Song," Wei Zhenyu lowered his gaze, sweeping it over the crisscrossing golden lines on the river, his eyes turning cold:
"You two have gone to such pains. If I don’t cross the river, wouldn’t I be disappointing your kind intentions?"
From the river, Zhao Ren cried out, "Wei Zhenyu, no, Wei Wang, Wei Wang, save me! The Zhao Family will repay you handsomely another day!"
Wei Zhenyu flicked his sleeve.
"Whoosh—bang!"
A cluster of silver fireworks shot skyward like a soaring dragon, tearing through the night like lightning.
The clatter of armor echoed, shaking the earth and mountains.
"It’s Wei Wang’s signal!"
At the same time, Meng Heze activated ten Focusing Light Talismans.
A beam of golden light rose from his hand, streaking straight into the night sky.
Magical artifacts of all kinds displayed their unique powers.
"It’s Senior Brother Meng’s talismans!"
In the blink of an eye, the riverbanks were half-gold, half-silver, bright as day.
Wei Wang’s team, Thousand Canals’ team, and the rogue cultivator teams each had brought.
Even nearby passing cultivators, seeing others run, swarmed after them in a frenzy.
Some thought a rare treasure had emerged, others hoped to profit from the chaos, and some even hid in the trees to watch the spectacle.
Truly, it was a magnificent scene, "where all the worthies had gathered."
The two factions occupied opposing mountains, facing off from a distance.
Like two fierce beasts baring teeth and arching their backs, poised to strike.
Standing behind Wei Zhenyu, Song Qianji felt a headache coming on. He raised a hand to manage the situation, but his expression suddenly changed.
The object in his sleeve had lit up.
The dim pearl abruptly flickered with an eerie red glow.
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