Young and unmarried, he unexpectedly gained a son.
This son was unfilial, a rebellious child.
Song Qianji sighed, watching the crimson wine ripple in the jade cup, a fragment of broken moonlight floating at its center.
"My alcohol tolerance isn't very good."
Meng Zhengxian sneered coldly: "You claim you want my trust, that you're willing to do anything, yet you refuse even a single cup of wine. How can I believe you?"
Song Qianji replied helplessly: "I only hope you won't regret this."
Meng Zhengxian laughed heartily: "I was born wicked, have slaughtered countless people, committed innumerable evils, and never even had a nightmare. What regret could I possibly have?!"
Hearing this, Song Qianji raised his cup and drank it all in one go.
The Red Dust Wine was intensely pungent, burning his throat and stomach like wildfire spreading across plains.
Most dangerously, it could stir all the deepest desires within a person - the urge to kill, greed, lust, every craving.
"Excellent!" Meng Heze raised his hand and poured another cup.
Song Qianji threw his head back and drank again, the crimson wine soaking his front robes.
Leaning against the window frame while coughing repeatedly, he suddenly flung the jade cup aside: "More!"
Shattered jade scattered across the floor like fallen stars.
Meng Zhengxian clapped his hands. Beauties parted the silk curtains, carrying wine jars as they entered.
Jin Tao Furen poured wine for Song Qianji.
Surrounded by dancing beauties, their laughter echoed like pearls falling onto a jade plate.
"How does it feel to drink strong liquor while embracing beautiful women?" Meng Heze's voice sounded distant, as if coming from far away. "Song Qianji, you should have been like me."
"You have no family, no friends, drifting alone across the world, constantly vigilant without a moment's relaxation. You live such an exhausting life. Why not lay down your sword? I'll teach you an unorthodox Cultivation Method. Join my Golden Palace as a demon - wouldn't that bring you carefree joy?"
Song Qianji leaned sideways against the ornate window, eyes hazy, tilting his head: "You want me to sell my life to you?"
Meng Zhengxian drank with him: "In this Cultivation World, who isn't selling their life? Facing all the suffering in this world, better to sell to a true demon than to hypocrites!"
Song Qianji chuckled lowly, muttering something indistinct.
Meng Zhengxian didn't catch it: "What did you say?"
But Song Qianji didn't repeat himself. He seemed already deeply intoxicated, unaware of his way back, let alone what day or night it was.
Meng Zhengxian watched quietly for a moment before suddenly waving his sleeve: "Take him downstairs."
His eyes had regained their cold indifference.
He appeared to have lost interest in the scene before him, dispirited and too lazy to spare another glance: "Summon Jin Lu."
Jin Tao Furen ordered people to support Song Qianji, curling her lips as she instructed:
"Treat him well. If he wants to gamble, give him money. If he wants to drink, give him wine. If he wants women, find companions for him. After three days of drunkenness, the Evil Buddha will gain another obedient dog."
Meng Zhengxian beckoned, and a dancing girl giggled as she fell into his embrace.
Suddenly, a loud shout echoed: "Let him go!"
Meng Zhengxian's hand froze mid-air.
Everyone turned to look at Song Qianji.
You're the one being held up - if you're going to shout, it should be "Let me go." What did you mean by "Let him go"?
At that moment, a brilliant sword light cut through the white silk curtains, cleaving through the room's protective formation.
Sword energy soared skyward, causing layers of silk curtains to burst apart like swirling snowflakes.
Song Qianji stood by the window, sword unsheathed, wide sleeves billowing in the wind.
The moon illuminated the western tower, beauties like jade, sword like a rainbow.
Wine jars toppled over as panicked shouts arose:
"Activate the formation!"
"Assassin!"
The Evil Buddha pushed away the person in his embrace with one hand while flicking a red jade Buddhist bead with the other.
...
Sword energy crisscrossed, shaking the earth and mountains.
The jade tower collapsed, dust soaring toward the sky.
Guests fled the ruins, scrambling for their lives.Boundless laughter turned into ghostly wails and wolf howls.
Song Qianji had drunk wine tonight, and had also drawn his sword.
He floated mid-air, heavily surrounded by the demon leaders under the Evil Buddha.
The island's formations activated on their own, eerie red light rising from streets and buildings, layered rings forming a giant net.
The entire island's power seemed to press down on Song Qianji.
Accustomed to fighting alone, Song Qianji often employed a spirit qi-conserving style—every sword strike carefully calculated for maximum effect.
He had even created his own cultivation method of "using the opponent's force against them, striking after they do" and the "Five Elements Escape Technique" for breaking through encirclements and fleeing.
But tonight, he spared no spirit qi, nor himself, slashing and cutting without restraint.
For a moment, no one dared block his advance.
Amid the swirling dust, the flying magical artifacts of various sects also rose into the night sky, observing the situation from afar.
Cultivators with weaker cultivation didn't dare ascend, only fleeing via evasion arts on the ground.
Drunken dreams were shattered, the land of tenderness transformed into a scene of flashing blades and clashing swords.
Song Qianji, with just his sword, dictated the entire formation's advance and retreat—wherever he passed, palace roofs collapsed and tiles exploded.
Above, the formation pressed down; all around, Jin Lu and Golden Blades led the Golden Palace forces, a dark mass stretching as far as the eye could see, like heavenly troops.
Surrounded and cornered, Song Qianji's momentum remained undiminished, like a dragon emerging from the sea.
"Is he pretending to be drunk or really drunk?" Jin Tao Furen wondered. "If he's drunk, why is his swordplay still so fierce?"
"He's truly drunk," the Evil Buddha arrived late, white hair flying, red robes fluttering. "So drunk he's forgotten fear, defying all laws and heavens."
Eighteen red jade Buddhist beads hovered before him, light swirling, poised to strike.
Appearing behind Song Qianji, he wasn't angry but rather intrigued: "Put down your sword. You can't escape."
Song Qianji, holding the pass single-handedly, brimming with heroic spirit, actually turned back and said:
"Who says we can't escape? Don't be afraid, Little Meng, your senior brother will take you back to Thousand Canals!"
Meng Zhengxian was stunned. Who is Little Meng?
Does this Song Qianji think that just because we were both outer sect disciples in Huawel Sect back then, he counts as my "senior brother"?
And where the hell is Thousand Canals?!
Even drunken ramblings should have some basis.
Song Qianji forcefully carved a path through, drenched in blood, but turned back: "You go first, I'll cover the rear."
Meng Zhengxian, shielded behind Song Qianji, watched the man fighting ahead and found it utterly absurd:
"You—you want me to leave?"
This is my territory. Where would I go?
Song Qianji shouted: "Why are you still dazing?! Among your subordinates, there are those plotting to kill you! If you don't leave, you'll die by a thousand cuts."
Golden Blades and Jin Lu, furious, their faces alternating between green and white, made frequent mistakes in their techniques:
"Your Excellency, don't listen to his divisive nonsense! I am utterly loyal to you!"
"I willingly planted the loyalty gu, I would never betray you!"
Other demon generals quickly proclaimed their loyalty, cursing Song Qianji for his cunning and deceit.
Everyone knew the Evil Buddha's cruel methods towards those who dared betray him.
Meng Zhengxian waved his sleeve coldly: "Step aside."
"Your Excellency—"
"Stand down!"
The demon leaders, doubtful and alarmed, retreated like a receding tide.
Song Qianji grabbed Meng Zhengxian as if lifting a chick.
The two stepped onto a flying sword, transforming into a stream of light, flying toward the raging waves of the West Sea.
...
Lately, what event has been most shocking in the Cultivation World, spreading across the Four Great Continents?—The notorious Song Qianji appeared at the Golden Palace auction. As the final lot, major factions competed fiercely in bidding, ultimately closing at a sky-high price of ten million.
"Yet this man remained untamable, preferring death to submission. He single-handedly broke through multiple encirclements, wreaked havoc in the Golden Den, took the Evil Buddha hostage, and fled thousands of miles away."
"How ruthless Song Qianji is! Having suffered such humiliation, he must despise the Evil Buddha to the core!"
"Finally, someone can rid the Cultivation World of this scourge—the great demon leader Evil Buddha. But does this mean the Golden Palace will still hold its banquet next full moon? Will we still be able to drink Red Dust Wine in the future?"
"Wait, I heard the Evil Buddha went with Song Qianji willingly?"
"How could that be? Song Qianji beat his subordinates and destroyed his Golden Palace—why would he go voluntarily?"
"How can we apply ordinary logic to the thoughts of a great demon leader?"
From teahouses to taverns and marketplaces, the news spread like wildfire, known to all without exception.
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