It is difficult to make a great name for oneself in the fiercely competitive Cultivation World, but earning a bit of fleeting fame is easy.
Having participated in a certain grand assembly, witnessed a major battle, or exchanged words with someone—all can serve as talking points for self-introduction.
Young cultivators can introduce themselves by mentioning their masters, sects, or the reputations of their clan elders. Even Rogue Cultivators from mortal backgrounds, whose ancestors for three generations produced no notable figures, can claim to be "a friend of so-and-so."
Some who have completed half of Ji Chen's Anthology dare to call themselves "half-registered disciples" under Ji Bianxiu.
But no one dares to falsely claim to be a friend of Ziye Wenshu.
It sounds fake at once—extremely fake.
As Song Qianji walked alongside the Green Cliff cultivators, he made no deliberate effort to conceal his presence. Within the Ice cave, various forces were wary of each other, yet they had long possessed means to gather and probe for information.
Not long after Song Qianji jumped into the ice cavern, the echoes of footsteps began to resound around them.
"After repeated refusals to come, why are they all emerging now?" Zimo whispered.
"Of course, they're not here for you. They've come to see the Courtyard Overseer's friend," Qingzhai remarked, scanning the surroundings. The ice surfaces reflected the rosy hems of the Huaxi Sect's robes, the flowing sleeves of the Celestial Sound Sect, a cold-eyed, hands-behind-back clan elder, and two timid Rogue Cultivators.
The Green Cliff scholars had racked their brains but failed to uncover the origins or background of this Song-named cultivator.
Cultivators from outside Green Cliff were not only curious about this person but also wary and apprehensive, insisting on seeing him with their own eyes.
"Appearing out of thin air? A friend of Ziye Wenshu? A Song Xun no one has ever heard of?"
"If he found a way in, that means we can find a way out!"
"Look, he's coming out!"
The figure that leaped out of the ice cavern was slender, dressed in tattered clothes, and his cultivation level appeared average. If not for the Snow blade in his hand, who would believe this unremarkable person was Ziye Wenshu's friend?
"Hold" was not quite accurate—he carefully cradled a crystal-clear Spirit Herb in his hands, while the hilt of the blade was clenched between his teeth, as if he were biting a stray weed.
Song Qianji placed the freshly picked Iceleaf herb into a Spirit Jade storage box before picking up the blade. He stretched lazily, completely at ease, as if he were not in a freezing Ice cave but basking in the sunlight of a field.
Spirit Jade boxes could preserve the freshness of spiritual plants. In the past, Song Qianji had used them to store potato flowers, wheat, seeds, and the like, to soothe his longing for the fields.
The crowd stared at the man before them, scrutinizing him from head to toe as if he were a monster.
Where had Ziye Wenshu found this rogue?
Song Qianji smiled. "What advice do you all have?"
The clan elder was the first to speak: "The cave entrance is blocked by Sprites. How did you manage to enter, Fellow Daoist Song?"
"A random teleportation array. I just happened to arrive."
Could it be that coincidental?
Skeptical expressions appeared on everyone's faces, but no one pressed further. Faced with someone of unknown origins and dubious background, no one wanted to be the first to challenge him. Besides, he seemed far more difficult to deal with than the aloof Ziye Wenshu.
It's not the gods who know nothing of the mortal world that one should fear, but those who have rolled in the dust of human affairs.
Song Qianji walked forward, glancing back at the ice cavern. "Are you all crowded here because you want to go down and take a look?"
"No, no!"
Instinctively, everyone stepped back, making way for him.
"I have matters to attend to now," Song Qianji said, the long blade resting horizontally on his shoulder. "I'll visit each of you later."
The same blade, when worn at Ziye Wenshu's waist, carried an air of solemnity and dignity. But resting on this man's shoulder, it resembled... a hoe.
"Fellow Daoist Song, please wait," a soft, delicate female voice called out."Every midnight, when those things outside are at their strongest, they inevitably launch an attack toward the cave. If Fellow Daoist Ziye isn't here, then tonight's watch..."
Song Qianji didn't stop walking. Swinging his scabbard as he went, he replied with a double meaning: "I'll go."
The female cultivator lifted her skirt as she stepped forward: "My Celestial Sound Sect thanks you first, Fellow Daoist."
The air in the ice cave was freezing. She wore a fiery cloud gauze that generated heat when encountering cold, creating swirling white mist between the temperature extremes that made her appear as if floating on clouds, lofty and unapproachable.
A female cultivator from Huaxi Sect muttered: "At a time like this, who is she trying to impress?"
The Celestial Sound Sect female cultivator's expression changed, glaring at her angrily:
"You demon woman! How dare you be so insolent!"
Just as the two sides were about to argue again, the Green Cliff scholar hurriedly tried to mediate, but Song Qianji acted as if he hadn't heard.
"After Fellow Daoist Song finishes his business, would you like to visit our side? We would be happy to host you," said the Huaxi Sect female cultivator, her voice melodious and moving.
Song Qianji responded without turning his head.
The Green Cliff scholars blushed deeply, turning their heads away as if unable to bear hearing more.
After Song Qianji's figure disappeared, the crowd gradually dispersed.
The Rogue Cultivator representative left first, seemingly eager to discuss matters with his teammates, followed by the aristocratic family retainers and the Celestial Sound Sect female cultivators.
The Huaxi Sect female cultivators walked last, sending a voice transmission:
"Hey, you two little scholars."
Qingzhai turned back blankly, pointing at himself: "The two of us?"
"Big sister is calling you," the Huaxi Sect female cultivator said with a soft smile. "Considering how your Senior Brother Ziye looked after us before, I'll give you some advice. That spirit herb in his hand is called Iceleaf herb - its sap becomes extremely poisonous when it contacts blood. He just took it to your senior brother..."
Before she finished speaking, her skirt swirled and she disappeared.
Zimo stood dumbfounded while Qingzhai shuddered violently:
"Is she trying to drive a wedge between us and Fellow Daoist Song?"
"But what if that herb really is poisonous? What if our senior brother mistakenly trusts a villain..."
...
Inside the ice chamber, Song Qianji opened a jade box: "I've selected them - this one has the best quality with abundant sap."
Ziye Wenshu looked down at the Iceleaf herb: "This substance becomes extremely poisonous when it contacts blood."
"I already told you, the poison you've been infected with requires fighting poison with poison to cure it." Song Qianji drew his Snow Blade and made a cut on the back of his right hand, immediately causing blood to flow. He used two fingers of his left hand to take some of the poisoned blood from the other's wound and applied it to the back of his hand.
He performed these actions with natural expression, while Ziye Wenshu was completely unprepared.
"What are you doing?!" Ziye Wenshu shouted sharply, reaching to grab the blade.
Song Qianji dodged aside, squeezed out the Iceleaf herb sap and casually smeared it a couple of times. The wound returned to bright red at a visible speed.
"See, I didn't lie to you," he laughed.
Ziye Wenshu stared at him, chest heaving, shocked and furious.
"Isn't this healed now?" Song Qianji's wound had already closed, leaving only a scar.
"I'm different from others - I heal quickly after being injured... Are you still glaring? Do you really want to kill me?" Song Qianji shook the back of his hand indifferently.
Only when the Fountain of Immortality saw him bleeding earlier did it reconcile with him and stop throwing tantrums.
Ziye Wenshu: "...When did I say I didn't believe you?"
The Snow Blade was made of special material - the scars it left could never completely disappear.Song Qianji applied the herbal juice on him: "Since you believe me, leave this place to me. After those people return, they'll definitely be discussing what treasures lie beneath the ice cave, where I came from, and what I'm doing here... You'll have some peace for a while."
Ziye Wenshu remained silent.
When he didn't speak, he felt colder than the surrounding ice walls.
The bone-chilling coolness of the Iceleaf herb seeped through, immediately alleviating the searing, sharp pain in his shoulder.
He gazed at the gruesome scars on the back of Song Qianji's hand.
Song Qianji: "You see, even though the Snow Blade is in my hands, it can harm me at any time."
Ziye Wenshu uttered two words: "Green Cliff."
"I know you're responsible for Green Cliff, that Green Cliff matters most. What I need to do these next two days, I can't explain the reasons. But I swear on my character—no, I have no character to speak of—I swear on the fertile lands of Thousand Canals that I won't harm your academy. Those youngsters you brought along, I'll keep an eye on them."
"No need for such a severe oath." Ziye Wenshu's eyes flickered slightly.
Taking Thousand Canals' land would be worse than taking Song Qianji's life.
"Change your clothes." Ziye Wenshu tossed a defensive Magic Robe from his Storage Bag.
Song Qianji's outer robe had been scorched by the Inexhaustible Fire earlier and was already in a sorry state; this time, it had nearly turned to tatters.
Song Qianji caught it with a raised hand and suddenly found it familiar.
In his previous life, in this very place, he had set his own bones and just finished bandaging, barely stopping the bleeding. He sat cross-legged to rest, bare-chested, draped only in a loose outer garment.
Ziye Wenshu had thrown him a defensive Magic Robe.
Song Qianji didn't take it, only mocked him: "You disciples from major sects, when you travel far, do you pack twenty sets of clothes in your Storage Bag first? Won't you leave until you've packed enough clothes?"
"Change into it."
Song Qianji impatiently replied: "I've always been like this!"
"There are female cultivators here." Ziye Wenshu said.
Being improperly dressed was disrespectful and offensive to female cultivators. But Song Qianji ached all over and couldn't be bothered:
"Really? At a time like this, you still care about such formalities?"
Song Qianji felt that he and Ziye Wenshu were inherently incompatible. This man's personality was cold and rigid, never speaking a kind word, yet his actions were fussy and bound by numerous rules.
"Change." Ziye Wenshu urged again.
Song Qianji sneered:
"Change my head! We Rogue Cultivators are rough and tumble, not like you noble lords. I hope you die with all your rules and propriety."
"Put it on." Ziye Wenshu's voice sounded once more.
Song Qianji took the outer robe and snapped back to reality: "Understood... Thank you."
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