Hua Wei Zhenren slowly regained consciousness and exclaimed in alarm, "Be careful! A strand of their souls has been drawn into the 'Three Lives Stone.' If you recklessly move their physical bodies, the wandering souls won't be able to return, and they'll become living corpses forever!"
Song Qianji frowned. "How much do you know?"
"Coming to this place is a tremendous opportunity in itself. If the soul enters the 'future,' upon returning, one can seize advantages at every step, just like me. If the soul enters the 'past,' and it so happens that the past life was also a cultivator, the insights gained from cultivation can be remembered upon returning, naturally enhancing one's cultivation realm. However..." Hua Wei Zhenren hesitated.
"But the premise is that they must be able to return?" Song Qianji interjected.
Hua Wei Zhenren replied, "Exactly. There are no free elixirs in this world. The greater the opportunity, the greater the risk. Back then, seven of us saw the 'Three Lives Stone' together, but I was the only one who walked out of this lake alive. If the soul doesn't return before dawn, the physical body will be swallowed by the lake!"
Song Qianji looked up.
The moonlight was cold and chilling, seeping into his bones. The starry sky above shifted slowly, like the turning gears of fate.
The tranquil lake was deep and silent, with a full moon perfectly reflected on its surface, resembling the pupil of a giant eye, coldly gazing at the night sky.
"I want to bring them back. Is there a way?"
"This..." Hua Wei Zhenren sighed. "The mysterious power of the Three Lives Stone is beyond human resistance. The slightest misstep, and your soul may not return either! Let fate decide their outcome. Everyone has their own destiny—you are their senior brother, not their father."
"You have a way," Song Qianji stated.
Hua Wei Zhenren was taken aback. "What?"
Song Qianji continued, "You gained this extraordinary encounter and then stayed ahead at every step, founding the Huawel Sect. This was the turning point of your fate, the beginning of your legendary life. So why do you always sigh when you mention it, as if reopening an old wound you'd rather not recall?"
Hua Wei Zhenren fell silent.
Song Qianji pressed further, "You mentioned earlier that you were being pursued and fell off a cliff here with a friend. What happened to your friend?"
"It seems I can't hide it from you," Hua Wei Zhenren said. "I've been clinging to life, forcibly staying in your Domain, just waiting for the right moment when you would need something from me, so we could make a deal. If you die here, there will be no deal to discuss."
When Hua Wei Zhenren first arrived in the Domain, he carried the air of a founding patriarch, using archaic speech habits, always beginning with "I am so-and-so" and "you all such-and-such."
After living here for a while, influenced by Song Qianji and later generations, he had become much more down-to-earth.
Song Qianji replied, "Thousand Canals still has thousands of acres of fertile land. How could I let my bones rest by the mere Three Lives Stone? I need your help right now. State your conditions, Elder."
Hua Wei Zhenren was prepared. "What I ask of you doesn't require a sworn oath to the heavens—only that you do your utmost."
Song Qianji smiled wryly. "You are formidable, Elder."
Doing one's utmost is far more challenging than being bound by an oath. Deceiving heaven is easy, but deceiving one's own heart is difficult.
"Do you want me to not oppose the Huawel Sect?" he asked.
"The tide has already turned. The shift between old and new isn't controlled by individual strength. It's just that young girl named Chen Hongzhu—if she ever faces danger in the future, I ask that you protect her."
"Is that all?" Song Qianji asked."'The Huaw Micro Seal represents status, it cannot protect her. Her path ahead is difficult, the hope of the sect's revival rests on her shoulders.'"
Given the urgency of the situation, Song Qianji nodded: "I agree."
Hua Wei Zhenren doubted: "So simple?"
Song Qianji angrily retorted: "You don't believe me? Do you want me to swear to treat her as my own, like my own daughter?!"
"You're younger than her, how can you have the nerve to elevate your seniority and take advantage of her?!" Hua Wei Zhenren scanned the lake surface, "There are five people here, who will you save first? Can you save them all?"
Song Qianji's face was as dark as water: "I will do my best, seeking only to have no regrets."
"Very well then, I will teach you a set of mental cultivation techniques and the method to draw the 'Soul-Chasing Talisman'. Your soul can follow him into the Three Lives Stone and find him in his world. But he must truly trust you and willingly hand over his soul to you before you can return to your physical body here. My old friend used this method to bring me back, but unfortunately, while he saved me, he himself couldn't return..."
Song Qianji cleared his mind and calmed his breathing. Following Hua Wei Zhenren's instructions, he pricked his fingertip, extracted his essence blood, drew the talisman with blood, and placed it on Meng Heze's forehead.
Then he silently recited the incantation and placed a blood talisman on himself as well.
"Your ability to create talismans with a single stroke and your comprehension are truly remarkable. Xian Jianchen is really lucky. Why don't I have a disciple like you?" Hua Wei Zhenren rambled on praising the younger generation before finally warning, "If the bright moon sinks and you haven't returned before the sun rises, your souls will be forever trapped in the Three Lives Stone, and your physical bodies will sink to the bottom of the lake. While in your physical Domain, I will remind you of the moon's position in the present world."
"I appreciate your efforts, senior." Song Qianji said.
"Go now!"
Before his soul departed, Song Qianji wondered how much Meng Heze had experienced and when he would arrive.
It would be best to return to the time when they first entered the Huawel Sect, when young Meng was sincere and righteous, most likely to trust others; returning to when Meng Heze had just been pushed off the cliff by him would also work - he could simply jump down after him again; at worst, returning to after the fall from the cliff, as long as they could avoid the tragedy of the Meng family's extermination...
If he went to the future of this world, it would indeed be simple - Meng Heze would definitely trust him.
When he opened his eyes again, he felt dizzy and nauseous.
Song Qianji shook his head and found himself standing on a street against the flow of people, wearing old robes and holding a sword.
Not the Solitary Light Sword that had dominated the world.
Fortunately not - it seemed not too late.
The sky was near dusk, with red clouds spreading like a raging fire in the western sky, threatening to burn through the heavens.
Continuous streams of Flying Magical Artifacts passed through the colorful clouds, heading westward, leaving elegant cloud trails in their wake.
The streets were crowded with people all rushing in the same direction, chanting fervently with fanatical expressions.
They were all cultivators, around the Golden Core stage, with varied clothing and accents.
Song Qianji turned and walked a few steps, trying to sense his cultivation level, only to find familiar pain coursing through his body.
"I'm already at the Golden Core stage, why am I still injured like this? Right, in my previous life I was constantly injured."
Just then he heard someone calling to their companion: "Hurry up, the ship at the dock is about to depart!"
Song Qianji stopped the person: "What year is this?"
"You mean what day? Today is the fifteenth of August. Everyone's rushing to the Golden Den, don't block the way." The person shook him off impatiently when he didn't respond.
"The fifteenth of August, the Golden Den, how could it be..."Song Qianji stood frozen in the middle of the main road, his shoulders constantly jostled by hurried passersby, yet he seemed completely unaware.
The Golden Den was not a mountain cave, but rather a floating island in the Western Sea, originally named the "Golden Palace."
Legend had it the island contained only three types of establishments: brothels, gambling dens, and taverns.
With pools of wine and forests of meat, jade trees and golden bricks, it boasted endless fine wines, beautiful women, magical artifacts, and treasures.
Regardless of whether one followed the righteous or heretical path, anyone could visit the island to try their luck—those looking to fence stolen goods, gamble with their lives, seek treasures, or indulge in pleasure. Some would lose their entire fortunes, while others would strike it rich overnight.
The cultivation world refused to call this heretical domain the "Golden Palace," instead referring to it as the "Golden Den."
Such a place gathered all sorts of disreputable characters, where demons and monsters danced wildly. Without a sufficiently powerful backer, it would never survive.
The Golden Den thrived endlessly, peaceful and prosperous, solely because it was one of the Evil Buddha's enterprises.
Every year on the fifteenth of August, the night of the full moon, the Evil Buddha would inevitably be on the island, in his "Red Dust Sanctuary."
On this night, the Golden Den would host its grandest auction and arrange its most extravagant banquet.
After sorting through his thoughts, Song Qianji's vision darkened.
—Judging by the commotion that stirred tens of thousands, the Golden Den must have been operating for who knows how many years.
In his previous life, Meng Heze had become the Lord of the heretical path.
In his previous life, Song Qianji had never visited places like the Golden Den. He had advanced step by step, remaining vigilant at all times, avoiding all forms of indulgence.
The Lord of the heretical path practiced a quick-result heretical art, indulging in sensual pleasures, which naturally allowed him to achieve fame and establish his career earlier than Song Qianji—and of course, die earlier as well.
"The Golden Den in the Western Sea... I really don't want to go," Song Qianji sighed softly before hurriedly following the crowd.
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