Cleaning up was far more troublesome than delivering a single sword strike. Song Qianji used a Blazing Flame Talisman to incinerate the corpses on the ground, followed by a Gale Talisman to scatter the ashes. Finally, he expertly concealed the bloodstains and erased all traces of the fight.
Thanks to his false identity "Little Song," his daily routine consisted of little more than cooking and drawing talismans. Recently, he had crafted several new gadgets, some of which he never imagined would come in handy.
For instance, the seemingly useless Sound Amplification Talisman, which offered no combat power and was rarely traded even in the black market.
"The trial has ended—the entrance to the Underground Palace is now open—" Song Qianji cleared his throat, playing the mystic by attaching the talisman.
Another wave of thunderous cheers erupted from the riverbank.
The moon sank, the night lifted, and daylight gradually brightened the sky.
A fresh dawn breeze swept across the empty plains, rustling Song Qianji’s sleeves.
As he walked toward the riverbank, he quietly let the wind blow over him for a while. Then he took out a small drop of the Fountain of Immortality to wash away the bloodstains on his clothes and the faint scent of blood lingering on his fingers, restoring himself to the state he was in before drawing his sword.
Wei Zhenyu was sharp and suspicious, so to be safe, Song Qianji avoided the cleansing methods commonly used by ordinary cultivators.
This time, not only did the Pure Bottle shake violently, but even the laboring souls in the Wheat Field Domain cursed him for his extravagance and wastefulness.
"Keep cursing, and I’ll deduct points," Song Qianji said coldly and ruthlessly.
"You tyrant! Can’t we even say a word?"
"Wait until your master returns—see how he disciplines you!"
Soft complaints echoed within the domain.
Song Qianji chuckled. "The reason we’re stuck here today, unable to return home or tend to our fields, is all thanks to my ‘dear master’!"
The laboring souls muttered under their breath, accusing him of betraying his master and lacking filial piety.
"Want to talk? Fine. Here’s a chance to earn points," Song Qianji suddenly declared. "One to ten points, depending on your performance."
Ten points?
The cursing ceased immediately. The souls eagerly awaited the opportunity while inwardly despising themselves for being so easily manipulated by a points system.
Unaware of their complex inner turmoil, Song Qianji continued, "I need information about Blood River Valley—the more, the better."
Today’s events showed that Wuxiang understood this place better than he did, which was how this situation had unfolded.
But the other party died too easily, leaving behind a cryptic and nonsensical final message. His corpse didn’t produce a single relic, nor did he attempt to flee with a remnant soul. All of this put Song Qianji on high alert.
Hantian Zhenren said, "Blood River Valley has never had an accurate map. Mountains, dense forests, and plains drift slowly atop the blood river like separate islands in the sea. When large-scale battles break out among cultivators or when rare treasures emerge and the Spirit Veins tremble, the terrain changes even more drastically."
Song Qianji replied, "Basic common knowledge earns no points. Tell me something I don’t know."
Hantian Zhenren hurriedly added, "The Underground Palace in Blood River Valley isn’t a sunless palace but an underground space with multiple entrances and exits."
"One point as encouragement—I already knew that."
Hengxuan Zhenren interjected, "There’s an underground river in the palace that connects to the Dead Sea. If you’re fortunate enough to find this river, you can enter or leave the Dead Sea even when the secret realm is sealed. However, the river is extremely perilous. In my youth, I once crossed it and can share the details with you.""Two points." Song Qianji thought, I've walked that path too. Back then, he, Ziye Wenshu, and a group of cultivators had drifted to the Dead Sea. However, with discordant hearts and competing for opportunities, they grew wary and schemed against each other, only to be exploited by evil demons—the outcome was utterly tragic.
The souls now toiling honestly in the wheat fields were once esteemed sect elites in life. The accumulated knowledge and heritage of a major sect over millennia were like a treasure trove, giving Song Qianji the sensation of reviewing old knowledge while blatantly cheating.
The souls couldn't fathom where Song Qianji had learned so much, so they could only rack their brains to provide information.
Suddenly, Hua Wei Zhenren cleared his throat lightly: "In my youth, I was pursued by enemies and fell off a cliff with a friend. By chance, we stumbled into the deepest part of a secret realm, where we encountered a lake and the legendary Three Lives Stone... Times have changed, and I wonder if it still exists now."
The wheat field fell silent instantly, all souls staring intently at the patriarch:
"The Three Lives Stone really exists?"
"Can that stone truly reveal past lives?"
Another cliché of "falling off a cliff and finding treasure," Song Qianji mused. Why was it that in his past life, every cliff fall led to severe injuries, every injury led to encountering enemies, and every enemy was a master?
Hua Wei Zhenren recounted leisurely: "I lowered my head to drink and saw the lake water clear as a mirror, yet my reflection was absent. Drawn by some force, I unconsciously walked toward the center of the lake..."
"The Three Lives Stone lies at the bottom of the lake, and the water reflects the 'past' and 'future'?" Song Qianji asked curiously.
The souls were astounded, some even suspecting the patriarch was fabricating tales to earn points.
But Song Qianji had died once and witnessed the River of Time with the narrator for who knows how long, so his acceptance was greater.
"Some see their 'past lives,' others see the 'future.' I did not see the 'past,' but witnessed with my own eyes how I slew powerful foes, established a sect, and imparted teachings; and how the Huawel Sect grew steadily, becoming the foremost major sect in the Western Sky Continent.
"Through this encounter, I had glimpsed the future, foreseeing events everywhere, staying a step ahead of my peers. Truly, as seen in the lake, I became a generation's master. I never spoke of the Three Lives Stone to anyone, thinking this secret would vanish with me into the world." Hua Wei Zhenren sighed, "Yet, I never imagined..."
He glanced around at the golden wheat, his expression wistful, as if saying, "I foresaw the legendary beginning but never guessed this ending." Moved, Song Qianji declared: "Add ten points!"
Hua Wei Zhenren smiled faintly, then turned to the other souls: "Understand now? Your patriarch will always be your patriarch."
The wheat field erupted into noise again.
...
The battle raged fiercely under the cover of a moonless, windy night, turning the world dark and chaotic, with bloody waves dyeing both shores crimson.
The cultivators were fervent and unprecedentedly united.
The great serpent, not fully awake and still drowsy, was trapped within the formation.
Tens of thousands of cultivators followed the "senior's" instructions, attacking in shifts with clear roles.
Though dead, the serpent's oppressive aura remained.
Humans standing beside the serpent seemed minuscule, no larger than one of its claws.
Only when the cultivators emerged from the blood-soaked fervor of battle did they feel the belated fear:
"If not for the senior's trial, encountering this serpent would have made us its meal."
"Don't say such frightening things!"
The corpse lay sprawled on the ground like a rolling mountain range.
The serpent's tail had shattered two peaks, and the river channel was blocked by accumulated rubble, forming a vast red landslide-dammed lake.
The southern and northern shores merged into one lakeside, no longer facing each other from afar.
Healer cultivators busied themselves with healing arts, while the wounded meditated to recuperate.Ji Chen's emotions were complex, a mixture of joy and worry.
He was glad that Song Qianji was hidden in the shadows, yet also anxious for the same reason.
He and Meng Heze had deliberately intercepted Wei Zhenyu, going against Brother Song's instructions. He didn't know if Song Qianji would be angry.
Earlier, when they had troubled Zhao Ren, he wondered if Brother Song had witnessed it.
During the battle, there was no time to dwell on these thoughts, but now, the more he reflected, the more uneasy he became.
He stood up, determined to make amends.
The disciples of Thousand Canals usually hunted in teams in the Poison Marsh Forest, treating the great serpent as nothing more than a snake. Their combat coordination was excellent, and they possessed numerous defensive treasures, so few were injured.
Rogue Cultivators with slightly lower cultivation and modest resources, as well as disciples from other sects lacking practical experience against demonic beasts, were not so fortunate.
"Friend, how about a bottle of Qi-Replenishing Pills?" Ji Chen utilized his natural ability to strike up conversations.
The young disciple he addressed was flustered and honored: "Ji, Ji Bianxiu?"
Ji Chen enthusiastically assisted unfamiliar cultivators, seeing traces of Song Qianji in everyone.
"What's gotten into you?" Meng Heze asked, bewildered.
Ji Chen could only transmit his voice: "From now on, be nicer to Wei Zhenyu. The situation is complicated; I'll explain later."
Meng Heze pointed at the cold-faced Wei Zhenyu: "Who's the one with the bad expression here? Is it me?! Damn it, it's not me!"
Wei Zhenyu, with his keen perception, glanced over.
Meeting his gaze, and under Ji Chen's frantic hints, Meng Heze forced an awkward, unnatural smile.
Wei Zhenyu was taken aback, pretended not to notice, and continued his search:
"Did anyone see Song Xun earlier?"
Everyone shook their heads. Wei Zhenyu searched extensively but found nothing, his expression growing darker.
Influenced by Ji Chen, the disciples of Thousand Canals began extending help to those around them.
The other cultivators were stunned, momentarily at a loss.
During the serpent slaying, they had been amazed by the unity and strength of the Thousand Canals people; after the battle, they felt their kindness.
"The conduct of Thousand Canals resembles that of a great sect more than some major sects do."
"Ji Bianxiu isn't as stern and harsh as the rumors say. True to his reputation, he's quite helpful."
A thrilling battle fought side by side, coupled with the enthusiasm and generosity of the Thousand Canals disciples, greatly improved relations among the various parties.
Regardless of their original intentions for coming to the shore, everyone now felt the joy of surviving a disaster:
"Your sect's Spirit-Replenishing Technique is truly remarkable. I had too many prejudices before."
"Not at all, we should thank you for your timely moves that diverted the serpent's attention."
"Thanks to the people of Thousand Canals and the Northern Desert; they contributed the most this time."
The Underground Palace of Blood River Valley loomed ahead like an even greater prize. Faced with the treasure-laden corpse of the great serpent, no one fought over it; instead, they politely deferred to one another.
Mindful of any lingering consciousness or soul, no one wanted to leave an impression of greed or shallowness with the senior, lest it hinder future great opportunities.
This scene was a perfect harmony of timing, geographical advantage, and human relations—a rare moment of great unity in the Cultivation World, unseen in a century.
When Song Qianji returned, he overheard a cultivator quietly instructing a junior disciple:
"You must remain composed! Look at the King of Thousand Canals. Why did he gain the favor of the strong at the Grand Assembly of Distinguished Appraisals? Because he stayed calm, knew how to advance by retreating. See how he appears desireless, uncontending—isn't it refreshingly transcendent?"
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