"Junior Sister, Master has emerged from seclusion with his old injuries fully healed and his cultivation greatly advanced. Our sect has endured humiliation for three years, and now is the time for resurgence. How do we restore the sect's prestige? It must be done by offering the blood of our former enemies in sacrifice."
This voice also sounded familiar. It wasn't until the latter part of the sentence that Song Qianji remembered the speaker should be Yuan Qingshi, Chen Hongzhu's senior brother and Xu Yun's head disciple.
Back when Huawel Sect deployed the "Huawel Floating City" and summoned ancestral remnants to kill him, Yuan Qingshi had been assigned by the sect to preside over the formation.
After Yuan Qingshi finished speaking, three or four other voices—some aged, some authoritative—chimed in agreement, all urging Chen Hongzhu to join the "sect resurgence plan."
Song Qianji found it amusing. How come Huawel Sect was blaming all their closure troubles over these years entirely on him?
Shouldn't Xian Jianchen take most of the blame?
Miaoyan frowned, her mind racing.
Chen Hongzhu's engagement ceremony had been fraught with setbacks, dealing a blow to their prestige. Xian Jianchen saving Song Qianji and leaving a sword aura while passing by Huawel Sect was a blow to their martial power. Under this dual assault, Huawel Sect's decision to lie low and bide their time was a wise move by Xu Yun.
"But if Xu Yun dares to plan Song Qianji's assassination now, does it mean he's about to break through to the Transformation Stage? Is he no longer afraid of Song Qianji's backers or 'that person'?"
She glanced at Song Qianji. This man was listening to others discuss how to kill him, yet he still wore a slight smile, as if hearing a joke.
Miaoyan couldn't help but shiver.
Mountain winds howled, night clouds churned.
Cold moonlight broke through the clouds, illuminating Chen Hongzhu's profile.
Yuan Qingshi looked at his junior sister with mixed emotions. Chen Hongzhu had grown taller and thinner, her skin rougher, yet she showed no signs of weariness. Instead, she carried an air of capable vigor, with long, powerful limbs. Standing straight in the fierce mountain winds at the cliff's edge, her posture was as upright as a flagpole.
She used to sit on Fleeting Water Bridge, swinging her legs, staring blankly at the five-colored carp in the sea of clouds, her gaze distant and wandering.
Now her eyes were bright and steady, neither arrogant nor impatient, calmly meeting his gaze.
The young cultivators beside her all looked resolute, following her lead.
She seemed less like a young mistress now and more like a "ruler," a young sect leader.
But "Little Huawel Sect" was not "Huawel Sect."
If Chen Hongzhu refused to comply with the sect's arrangements and bring these people back, it meant she had already slipped from their control.
Yuan Qingshi's voice rose, his tone turning stern:
"Junior Sister, in recent years, Thousand Canals has expanded rapidly, threatening other sects and families in Western Sky Continent. It's becoming harder to recruit Outer Sect disciples, mortals are growing more difficult to manage, and incense offerings at God Temples everywhere are declining.
If this continues, Song Qianji will monopolize all incense tributes in Western Sky Continent, and Thousand Canals will inevitably become the new hegemon.
Song Qianji has long torn face with us, creating an irreconcilable enmity. When that time comes, must our Huawel Sect survive on others' sufferance, barely clinging to life? For the sake of the sect, are you unwilling to contribute?"
Chen Hongzhu also looked at her senior brother Yuan Qingshi. The Huawel Floating City incident had left him with traumatic shadows.
Afterward, he devoted himself to cultivation, no longer the smooth-sailing, grown-up head disciple who had more steadiness than sharpness.
"Senior Brother, this matter brings no benefit to the sect, only harm. Personal grudges should yield to the greater picture," Chen Hongzhu said.
As the dispute continued, Song Qianji roused the working spirits in his Domain:
"Don't say I'm unfeeling for not bringing you back to the sect. These are Huawel Sect's current juniors. Watch them if you want."The veteran working souls, having listened for a while, quickly grasped the current state of the Cultivation World and their own sect's predicament, sighing in unison.
"That Song lad didn't lie to us—the sect has truly declined."
"Those who win hearts ultimately win the world. The current tide is unstoppable—killing one Song Qianji won't change anything. What are dignity, pomp, and face worth? For the sect's survival, we must temporarily abandon all comforts."
The Mighty Heaven Realist who invented the Outer Sect labor system declared:
"In my opinion, we should temporarily sacrifice some benefits, break down the barriers between Inner and Outer Sects, reduce punishments, and control disciples through honors and rewards. As for those rebellious ones, focus on appeasement—adopt a humble stance first. At most, it'll take a hundred years. Tides ebb and flow, and the world will still be ours."
After much clamor, the working souls reached a conclusion.
"This young girl has courage—daring to abandon everything and change course. She's a clever talent with potential."
Chen Hongzhu then heard Yuan Qingshi say:
"Before the sect leader went into seclusion, he received assistance from Wu Xiang. Now that he's emerged, he's completely transformed. Those behind Song Qianji—some aged, some ill, some injured—who can stand against our master? Once Song Qianji dies, Thousand Canals will be leaderless and naturally collapse. Thousand-Ditch Prefecture will return to the sect's territory and get back on track."
"If Song Qianji doesn't die, a great war will inevitably erupt. How many mortal and cultivator lives will it take to fill Thousand Canals' riverbeds then?" Yuan Qingshi sighed. "No one wants war. But the world has changed, and war is already close at hand."
Chen Hongzhu was shocked: "Father wants to wage full-scale war against Thousand Canals?! No! With such turmoil, other forces will surely profit from our conflict!"
"Of course we must ally with major families and sects. You've made a hundred excuses, but it all boils down to not wanting to kill Song Qianji. The master ordered you not to return to the sect for three years—you hold resentment and have grown distant from the sect," Yuan Qingshi retorted.
"No! I'm truly happy that the sect is safe and Father has achieved a breakthrough."
"Then why are you unwilling to return? Why choose hardship over ease when you've suffered wandering outside?"
"Because..." Chen Hongzhu gritted her teeth, "That isn't my path!"
"Ha!" A cold laugh echoed.
From the Hua Wei Sect's ranks, Zhao Taiji emerged with seven Nascent Soul elders.
These eight exuded overwhelming pressure, overshadowing the young, weak, and shallow-rooted Little Hua Wei Sect.
After suffering severe blows, the Hua Wei Sect's leadership had shed their arrogance and grown more united.
Zhao Taiji immediately launched his attack:
"Eldest Miss, don't forget—when you left, you took thirty thousand Spirit Stones, three thousand copied texts, three hundred bottles of elixirs, and thirty fine swords! If you refuse to return, you must repay these with interest! Henceforth, you may not preach in the Hua Wei Sect's name!"
Chen Hongzhu froze, her face paling: "The sect leader himself approved my taking those back then! All the elders agreed at the time!"
"Times have changed. We only relented because you were insistent—we never said they were gifts. Those were loans. Since you disregard the sect's arrangements and establish your own faction, why should the sect continue supporting you? Had those thirty thousand Spirit Stones been invested in opening new mine shafts, they'd be worth three hundred thousand by now!"
Chen Hongzhu fell silent.
The young disciples behind her flushed with anger.
Compared to the vast, resource-rich Thousand Canals and the bold, battle-hardened Northern Desert, Little Hua Wei Sect was undoubtedly the most impoverished.Before Chen Hongzhu descended the mountain, the Cultivation World only knew her as spoiled and willful, with many waiting to see the young mistress make a fool of herself.
If she wanted to recruit disciples, how could she compete with other major sects and great families? Thus, she traveled mostly through the impoverished and harsh lands of Tiandong Province, healing the sick, saving lives, holding lectures on scriptures, and charging nothing. Only after gradually building a reputation did people begin to seek her out.
Zhao Taiji clearly knew Chen Hongzhu had no money. Using this as a pretext to provoke her, he merely wanted to force her to yield.
"Young Mistress, you claim everything is for the sect, yet you refuse to follow the sect's orders. How can you speak of loyalty?!"
Chen Hongzhu took a deep breath, refusing to be intimidated: "I have long sworn to devote myself to the Dao. No one can doubt my loyalty to the sect. Unless you, too, are willing to swear an oath like mine."
Zhao Taiji’s face darkened with anger as he roared:
"Do you think that by creating a new Huawel Sect and making yourself its leader, everything will be fine? That by doing so, even if you don’t follow the sect’s arrangements, you won’t be breaking your oath? Ha! Once you’re expelled from the ancestral hall, you will no longer be a member of the Huawel Sect. The Dao you preach will no longer be the orthodox teaching of Huawel Sect, and you will have broken your vow!"
Chen Hongzhu’s calm expression shattered. The oath she had once made to dedicate her life to the sect had become a death curse. With just a casual remark of "not orthodox," she could be cast into the abyss.
She felt as if she had fallen into an icy chasm, her blood running cold.
The two sides stood in a silent stalemate—one looking down with contempt, the other burning with shame and indignation.
Suddenly, a leisurely voice drifted over:
"Lend me an egg this year, and I’ll return ten chickens next year. Lend me a seed in spring, and I’ll repay a hundred pounds of wheat in autumn. Such a profitable business—I’d like to do it too. Who wants to borrow some money from me?"
Both sides, wary of each other, had not expected a third party to intervene unexpectedly.
All eyes shot like swords toward the source of the voice: "Who is it?!"
From behind a dense old pine tree and jagged rocks, a man strolled out unhurriedly.
His robes were tattered, but his features were handsome, and his demeanor was calm.
He walked straight forward, stepping into the center, positioning himself precisely between Chen Hongzhu and Zhao Taiji.
"Song Qianji!" Zhao Taiji exclaimed in shock, stammering, "You—you!"
The faces of the Huawel Sect members turned pale and flushed, a kaleidoscope of emotions.
In an instant, countless thoughts raced through their minds.
How long had he been here? How much had he overheard?
How dare he show up alone, so confident and unafraid? Could it be that the Thousand Canals forces or his allies were hiding nearby?
Had Ji Chen set up formations here in advance?
Had Chen Hongzhu conspired with Song Qianji all along, deliberately luring them to this place?
Miaoyan, standing behind the rocks, paled slightly.
The Huawel Sect had come with overwhelming force—Song Qianji should not have stepped out.
Was he willing to risk entering a deadly situation just to help Chen Hongzhu?
Chen Hongzhu stared blankly at the man’s back, frozen in place, her entire body rigid.
But the young cultivators beside her grew emboldened:
"So that’s the King of Thousand Canals, Song Qianji! And he’s so young!"
"Entering a heavily surrounded area alone, fearless and joking freely—this is the charisma of the King of Thousand Canals. Truly worthy of his reputation as a hero of our time!"
Had they encountered Song Qianji elsewhere for the first time, they might not have been so impressed. But under the cover of a moonless, windy night, with the Huawel Sect pressing aggressively and them seething with silent anger, the standoff was broken by Song Qianji’s sudden appearance. He had ruthlessly mocked the Huawel Sect, saying what they dared not utter aloud.
The young cultivators gazed at him with admiration, and even his tattered robes seemed to carry an air of untamed freedom.What Miaoyan, Chen Hongzhu, the minor Huawel Sect, and the rest of the Huawel Sect members were thinking, Song Qianji had no idea. All he knew was that if he didn’t step out soon, he’d be driven mad by the overly agitated workaholic spirits.
“King of Thousand Canals! How this debt is settled is an internal affair of our Huawel Sect. Does Thousand Canals intend to interfere?” Zhao Taiji snapped back to his senses and said sharply, “Thousand Canals hasn’t even become the new overlord of the Western Sky Continent, yet it acts so domineering and unreasonable. No wonder people say those from Thousand Canals are nothing but bandits and robbers.”
Upon hearing this, several elders of the Huawel Sect immediately jeered loudly, testing whether there were any ambushes nearby.
Unfortunately, no one jumped out voluntarily or revealed their presence out of anger.
Song Qianji shook his head. “Your Huawel Sect’s affairs are, of course, for your sect to resolve internally. Even if you begged me to intervene, I couldn’t be bothered!”
Zhao Taiji said coldly, “In that case, step aside at once!”
Song Qianji replied, “Very well.”
He turned around as if he truly intended to leave.
At that moment, he was standing in front of Chen Hongzhu. As he turned, he faced her directly.
She instinctively averted her gaze.
Chen Hongzhu felt that everything had changed over the past few years—everything except Song Qianji.
He remained indifferent to the rise and fall of the Cultivation World, and even threats against his life seemed like jokes to him.
Yet here she was, cornered and humiliated by her own sectmates, and she truly did not want to face him now.
“I don’t have Wei Zhenyu’s talent and combat prowess, nor do I have the foundation of Thousand Canals. I’m still struggling among my own people—am I incapable of accomplishing anything?”
All the bitterness, grievances, and injustices she had buried deep inside, never showing them to the outside world, suddenly resurfaced upon seeing Song Qianji.
Seeing Chen Hongzhu avoid his gaze, Song Qianji assumed she was keeping her distance to avoid suspicion.
“I came in a hurry. Meng Heze and the others won’t be able to find me, and they’re probably worried. I should go. Are you leaving?”
“I…” Chen Hongzhu thought, What do you mean by that?
We were just discussing how to kill you, and now you come to our rescue?
“We’ll go with the King of Thousand Canals!” a young cultivator behind her blurted out.
The Huawel Sect members exchanged glances.
Was Song Qianji really alone?
How dare he act so arrogantly by himself?
Zhao Taiji felt he had been made a fool of, and his rage burned fiercely.
A closer look at Song Qianji revealed tattered robes and disheveled hair, as if he had just escaped from a fierce battle and fled here.
Since their plan to kill him had been overheard, letting him return to recover would be no different from releasing a tiger back into the mountains.
Zhao Taiji signaled to the seven elders behind him. “You’ve insulted our sect with your disrespectful words. Did you think you could come and go as you please?”
Before he even finished speaking, eight sword shadows shot straight toward Song Qianji’s back.
Chen Hongzhu hadn’t expected them to attack mid-conversation. There was no time to warn him—the sword energy was already upon him.
“Ah!” Miaoyan gasped from behind the tree.
Yet Song Qianji still did not turn around.
Was he caught off guard, unable to defend himself?
The moment the sword shadows touched him, a blinding white light erupted from his body.
The night was illuminated as a massive phantom rose behind him, and a furious roar shook the empty mountains:
“Treacherous disciples!”
The sword energy shattered!
The eight attackers were sent flying, coughing up blood!
The phantom, with its flowing white beard and an aura of immortal grace, stood tall.
One after another, white orbs flew out from the Domain’s wheat fields, transforming into human forms.
Like divine beings descending from the heavens, they filled the night sky behind Song Qianji, dense and countless.
Their presence was solemn and radiant, awe-inspiring and magnificent.
“Treacherous disciples!”Countless authoritative voices overlapped and echoed heavily.
Everyone was horrified.
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