In the dead of night, the howling wind swept through Thousand-Ditch Prefecture, where no one slept.
Every household kept their lamps lit, with incense smoke curling over courtyard walls from offerings to small statues.
On the towering city walls, torches blazed fiercely. Farmers clad in iron armor polished their firearms by the flickering light.
Disciples of Song Courtyard sat in meditation, regulating their breath to replenish their Spirit Qi as much as possible.
Within the city walls, a massive formation enveloped the area, its semi-arc barrier shimmering with a faint glow.
Wei Zhenyu stood atop the battlements and turned to look back. Behind him, Thousand Canals was ablaze with lights, like a solitary island of brightness in an endless sea of darkness.
"Wei Wang, a message from the secret tunnel in Hongfu Prefecture."
Wei Zhenyu unfolded the triangular talisman paper: "'The Righteous Immortal Alliance' has gathered eighteen factions and noble families, boasting eight hundred Nascent Souls, three thousand Golden Cores, and a hundred thousand cultivators. They have already stationed in Hongfu Prefecture and will attack the eastern gate at dawn."
As soon as he finished reading, the talisman paper spontaneously ignited, turning to ashes without a trace.
Thousand Canals was bordered by the poisonous miasma forest to the north, high mountains to the west, and desolate marshes to the south—all treacherous terrain. Only the eastern boundary connected with Hongfu Prefecture.
Over the years, the two prefectures had engaged in trade, and Thousand Canals had helped Hongfu Prefecture resolve its perennial flooding issues.
Zhu Sheng was puzzled: "Wei Wang, this Liu Hongshan is an Immortal Official of Huawel Sect, yet he’s willing to cooperate with us in digging underground tunnels and even finds ways to send us messages. Who does he actually want to win?"
Wei Zhenyu brushed the ashes from his fingertips: "Who wins or loses doesn’t matter to him. He only hopes to remain an Immortal Official. Go tell him to keep digging the tunnels."
"A hundred thousand cultivators?" Meng Heze gazed at the dense clusters of Cloud Ships and Flying Magical Artifacts in the clouds and sneered, "They’re all thousand-year turtles and ten-thousand-year tortoises. How many of them can actually fight?"
The fleet, carrying cultivators at the Golden Core level and above, hovered over Hongfu Prefecture.
After Huawel Sect’s first surprise attack failed and they were caught off guard by Thousand Canals’ firearms, they regrouped and sent out widespread invitations.
Those in seclusion emerged, hermits left their retreats—all sorts of demons, ghosts, immortals, and underworld kings came to join the spectacle of the Thousand Canals battle.
Meanwhile, all of Thousand Canals’ smelting workshops operated day and night, producing firearms, cannons, thunderbolt bombs, flame arrows, and more at any cost.
After repelling the first wave of attacking cultivators, the people of Thousand Canals grew more confident. Their belief in defending their homeland and their hatred for the enemy coalesced into a powerful force of faith and vows.
If a cultivator skilled in aura observation were to open their heavenly eye here, they would see Thousand Canals radiating golden light. This golden barrier protected the prefecture’s formation, making it even more resilient.
However, while these methods could attack Golden Core cultivators, they were no match for those at the Nascent Soul level and above. Thousand Canals still needed more strength.
Reinforcements from various factions also arrived to support Thousand Canals, but the gates remained closed, refusing entry.
Wei Zhenyu looked beyond the city walls: "At this critical moment, if enemies disguise themselves and infiltrate Thousand Canals, the consequences would be unimaginable."
Meng Heze, for once, agreed with him: "We don’t have time to screen them one by one either."
Just as they were caught in this dilemma, Ji Chen rushed up, covered in dust but beaming with joy.
"You don’t need to worry anymore. The problem is solved."
Wei Zhenyu was skeptical: "You went down once and solved it?"
Ji Chen: "I don’t have that ability."
Meng Heze: "Then who does?""Miss Chen is here." Ji Chen pointed toward a certain direction below the city walls. "Miss Chen arrived with the Minor Huawel Sect, unified all reinforcement troops, and voluntarily stationed them outside the city. She even helped us capture three spies along the way. Those three were disguised as Rogue Cultivators trying to infiltrate our ranks."
Meng Heze remarked, "She's opposing her own father to help us? Could it be for Senior Brother Song's sake?"
"Some initially thought so, but nobody says that anymore." Ji Chen laughed. "Because Miss Chen revealed the genuine Huaw Micro Seal, declaring herself the Huawel Sect's true successor recognized by their ancestors, while Xu Yun's Huawel Sect is illegitimate. This has turned into a conflict between the sect's old and new factions. Now everyone knows she's genuinely acting for the sect's sake. Even those who criticize her only accuse her of seizing power through rebellion."
Wei Zhenyu chuckled, "The Huaw Micro Seal? I suspect their 'Righteous Immortal Alliance' will descend into chaos first."
This was the first genuine smile that had graced his face since the great war began.
"That's why they sent someone to negotiate peace." Ji Chen clapped his hands. "Bring him forward!"
Two Thousand-Ditch Prefecture cultivators carried up a black cloth sack and unceremoniously dumped it on the ground.
A pained groan emerged from the sack, revealing a tightly bound man.
Though his Spirit Qi had been completely sealed, the prisoner offered no resistance. Instead, he expressed concern: "Ji Chen, it's been years. Our family misses you dearly. Why haven't you brought Xiao Xing home for a visit?"
He then launched into descriptions of familial longing, nostalgic childhood memories, and even shed a few tears.
Had Meng Heze and Wei Zhenyu been unaware of the circumstances, they might have mistaken this man for Ji Chen's own blood brother.
Ji Chen acted as if he hadn't heard, coldly demanding, "Are you willing to withdraw your troops?"
When Ji Guang met his gaze, his heart trembled, and he couldn't continue his previous train of thought: "I-I must see Xiao Xing first! She's my sister too, you can't forbid me from seeing her! I have crucial battle intelligence that I can only share with her alone!"
He faintly sensed he had made a mistake in coming here.
Wei Zhenyu and Meng Heze were Thousand-Ditch Prefecture's sword and blade, but Ji Chen was its shield.
Once the shield broke, even the sharpest weapons would struggle to hold.
Yet Ji Chen seemed to have completely transformed during his years in Thousand-Ditch Prefecture.
Defying all expectations, Ji Chen actually agreed to the request: "Very well."
Ji Guang was escorted to the Thousand Canals workshops. Along the way, he witnessed ordinary civilians practicing with firearms, transporting cannons and gunpowder, feeling their formidable killing intent.
How were such things created? How could they make ordinary people so terrifying?
What kind of cursed place was Thousand-Ditch Prefecture? How could such weapons exist in a world where cultivators resided?
"I asked to see Ji Xing! Why have you brought me here?"
As he prepared to voice his question, he spotted the delicate, vulnerable, innocent Ji Xing from his memories - now clad in Silver Armor, loudly directing transport operations.
Ji Xing noticed him too, her elegant brows furrowing: "I heard they sent you to negotiate peace. You have something to tell me privately?"
Ji Guang hurried forward, forcing out two lines of tears: "Xiao Xing!"
"Your brother came too late. You've been... you've been..." Ji Guang's mouth hung open as he faced this Ji Xing who now stood taller and sturdier than him. The words "suffering hardships" simply wouldn't come out.
"Eating quite well, I see." He quietly amended, the atmosphere turning inexplicably awkward.
"Follow me!" Ji Xing led him to a temporary resting hut.
Ji Guang first posted Talismans on all four walls, ensuring no sound could escape the room.Ji Xing crossed his arms and looked at him: "You can speak now."
"Xiao Xing, it was the family's fault for leaving you in Thousand Canals all these years, but you are still a member of the Ji Family. I came here to offer you a way out!"
Ji Xing scratched his head: "Keep it simple."
Ji Guang pleaded earnestly: "That Song Qianji was indeed a remarkable figure, but he's already dead. Thousand Canals is doomed—a wise bird chooses the right branch to perch on. Staying here to serve is like a mantis trying to stop a chariot. When the real fighting breaks out, Magical Artifacts are merciless, divine powers are blind—what if you get hurt? You might be fine, but once Thousand Canals' defensive formations are broken, Ji Chen will be the first to suffer backlash. Blood ties are hard to sever. I came here personally as a mediator, risking great danger to see you."
Ji Xing smiled: "Why don't you go say this to my brother?"
"Your brother is stubborn and can't see the situation clearly. Now it's up to you to save him. I know you'd do anything to rescue him."
Ji Xing's smile faded, seeming tense: "Then tell me, how should I save him?"
Ji Guang was overjoyed: "Just bring a Thousand Canals defense map as your pledge and quietly come with me—"
"Pah!" Ji Xing spat in his face. "Peace talks are fake—this is a scheme to turn me traitor!"
Ji Guang wiped off the spit, resentful: "You're beyond redemption! Whatever Song Qianji could do, we can do too. It's just about deceiving a bunch of ordinary folks and crude villagers. Hongfu County has already opened granaries and built more golden God Temples. Not just Hongfu—all territories are distributing porridge and wealth. The Immortal Alliance will soon gain more mortal luck blessings! In this war, the Immortal Alliance will surely win!"
Ji Xing sneered: "You think you're worthy of building God Temples, casting golden statues, and receiving mortal incense offerings?"
Ji Guang stiffened his neck: "We're doing the same things he did—why aren't we worthy?!"
"It seems you truly don't understand." Ji Xing sighed. "Before Song Wang appeared, how did you act as Immortal Officials?"
Ji Guang said proudly: "We fulfilled mortals' wishes, but they were never satisfied!"
Ji Xing shook his head: "You randomly selected one person each year to help. If they wanted money, you gave money; if they wanted healing, you gave Elixirs—never caring what happened to them afterward. Mortals only offered worship to cultivators for that slim chance of a miracle and to avoid punishment or coercion. Now you're distributing porridge, grain, and Elixirs not out of genuine care, but because you have to. You're afraid Song Qianji alone will claim all the world's luck."
"Unfortunately, you can copy the appearance but not the soul. What Song Qianji truly did for Thousand Canals, you'll never learn. Compared to him, you're just a bunch of opportunists scrambling for petty gains. True worship isn't in incense halls or temples. Every one of us staying here isn't serving or laboring for anyone. As long as the people of Thousand Canals refuse to leave their homes, you can't win this war."
Ji Guang, filled with bitter resentment, wanted to say more when he suddenly heard Ji Chen's relieved voice: "Xiao Xing, you've grown up."
It turned out his soundproof barrier couldn't block Ji Chen's formations at all.
Ji Chen pushed the door open and smiled: "Since you came all this way, why not stay here? Thousand Canals has beautiful mountains, clear waters, and excellent feng shui. Buried here, you might even cultivate immortality in your next life."
"You—you can't kill me!"
He thought he understood Ji Chen's nature well enough—even if the other didn't believe or loathe him, he'd still let him go for the sake of their shared bloodline.Ji Chen clapped his hands: "Take him away. We'll push him onto the city walls as a hostage when the battle begins tomorrow."
Two cultivators burst through the door, slapped a Silence Talisman on Ji Guang, stuffed him into a sack, and carried him away.
Ji Xing whispered: "Brother, I feel like you've changed a bit?"
Ji Chen froze for a moment, then replaced his expression with a warm smile: "Then are you afraid of me?"
Ji Xing answered without hesitation: "No."
Ji Chen patted her head: "Don't be afraid of anything. This time, your brother will protect you."
Ji Xing muttered: "Haven't you always been protecting me?"
...
"Meng Heze is with his sister, probably won't be coming back. You should go rest too, I'll keep watch tonight," Meng Heze said.
Wei Zhenyu replied: "I've always been guarding this eastern wall. You're the one who should rest. I'm afraid you won't have the strength to march out and meet the enemy after daybreak."
"Ridiculous, I..."
"Good news!" Two figures came running.
"Great news! Tremendous news!" Xu Kanshan and Qiu Dacheng shouted at the top of their lungs as they sprinted, making sure everyone on the city walls could hear them.
"Did the enemy retreat?" Meng Heze didn't even look up, asking lazily.
"Senior Brother Song isn't dead!" Qiu Dacheng announced.
Like thunder from a clear sky. Immediately, footsteps thundered as everyone who heard these words came running.
"What did you say?!" Though he had anticipated this, upon receiving confirmation, Meng Heze still forgot to breathe.
"Explain carefully!" Wei Zhenyu grabbed the messenger by the collar, then quickly released him.
Xu Kanshan continued: "He used an Amplification Talisman at Flowing Sand River. His voice carried for hundreds of miles around. He personally said he's still alive, and that Old Ancestor Zhao has been killed by him!"
"Is this true?!" Wei Zhenyu's eyes reddened.
"This news has been confirmed by Purple Cloud Temple, it can't be wrong!" Knowing everyone's anxiety, Xu Kanshan spoke rapidly, "Senior Brother Song also said that he and the Sword God will cross White Dragon River, climb over Heavenly Qian Mountain, traverse the snow plains, all the way to the continent's end to retrieve the Sword God's Lifebound Sword and slay the evil forces!"
Wei Zhenyu barely maintained his composure: "Quick, tell Ji Chen to use the formation to transmit the message!"
Thus, on this clear summer night with blazing torches, news spread rapidly throughout Thousand Canals:
"Fellow disciples of Song Courtyard, townsfolk and elders, the Song King is not dead! The Song King is at White Dragon River!"
That night, the people of Thousand Canals and their reinforcements wept with joy, with laughter and celebration everywhere.
Meanwhile, the "Righteous Path Immortal Alliance" felt extremely heavy-hearted.
The Righteous Path Immortal Alliance consisted of eighteen sects and noble families, each calculating their investments and gains. They had been arguing about who would take the vanguard position tomorrow.
When news of Song Qianji's survival spread from Purple Cloud Temple, hatred and fear enveloped everyone's hearts, uniting them against their common enemy.
"He even killed Old Ancestor Zhao, what should we do?"
"A starved camel is still bigger than a horse - the ancestor must have been killed by Xian Jianchen. Song Qianji must be severely injured, that's why he doesn't dare return to Thousand Canals to face the battle!"
"Then why would he reveal his escape route? This must be a trap."
"With Wei Zhenyu, Meng Heze, and Ji Chen all trapped in Thousand Canals, what trap could he possibly set? He values Thousand Canals more than his own life and wants to lure us over, that's all."
"We must go! We absolutely cannot let 'that person' retrieve his Lifebound Sword again!"
"Then are we giving up on attacking Thousand Canals?"
Just as everyone was overwhelmed with anxiety, True Person Xuyun's phantom slowly descended like a great Buddha, awing the entire assembly.
His majestic pressure swept through like tidal waves.Everyone felt reassured. Though both were half-step into the Transformation Stage, Old Ancestor Zhao had aged considerably, while Sect Leader Xu Yun was now the world's foremost expert.
As for the four Gods of Zither, Chess, Calligraphy, and Sword—three had already fallen. Every cultivator above the Golden Core stage could sense their departure.
How could the remaining Sword God, who lacked a Lifebound Sword, possibly contend with Sect Leader Xu Yun?
Xu Yun's shadow spoke: "We'll split into two groups. Zhao Taiji, personally lead a team to the White Dragon River. Ensure you eliminate both of them on the river."
...
The White Dragon River originated from the continent's edge, formed by meltwater from snowy plains and glaciers.
In summer, the river swelled powerfully. It carved through mountains and ridges, its turbulent waves crashing violently. The roar of water echoed between the banks, like an enraged dragon's cry.
Another dusk arrived.
The setting sun dipped into the water, its orange-golden light refracting through spray and mist, making the entire river shimmer with dazzling colors.
A black-canopied boat advanced upstream against the current.
At the bow stood a youth in white robes, facing the river wind and slanting sunlight. He held a long, thin, narrow sword, simultaneously repairing the boat's defensive formations while using sword energy to drive away aquatic beasts.
As the boat reached the river's center, the number of beasts gradually increased.
Inside the black canopy sat another person, leisurely drinking tea and admiring the scenery, utterly unbothered by the increasingly turbulent rocking of the vessel.
The raging river at dusk, the vicious water beasts, his busy companion—all seemed merely part of the landscape in his eyes.
He appreciated the view, feeling genuine pleasure.
"You're drinking tea again?" Song Qianji said.
Xian Jianchen replied honestly, "Ever since that night in Thousand Canals when you forbade me from drinking wine, I haven't touched a drop."
Song Qianji: "Do you think the important part is what you're drinking? The point is you have hands and feet too—couldn't you come out and help instead of just sitting there drinking tea?"
Xian Jianchen sighed: "This master's injuries have worsened. I currently retain strength for only one sword strike, which must be saved for the most critical moment."
"Wait." Song Qianji processed this, blinking incredulously. "You're the Sword God, and you can only manage one strike now? What difference is there between you and dead weight then?"
Xian Jianchen slammed his teacup down angrily: "Ungrateful disciple! This master was originally recuperating inside the Silver Island Whale's belly when you insisted on dragging me along this journey! If we're being technical, you're the one who owes me!"
"I owe you? Have you no shame?" Song Qianji stormed into the cabin, pointing at himself. "I was farming in Thousand Canals—who was it that tricked me into going to the Dead Sea to kill people?"
Xian Jianchen pointed at himself: "And who was it that wouldn't let me recuperate in Thousand Canals, insisting on doing something for me?"
Song Qianji fumed: "That was just to placate you! Haven't you caused me enough trouble? Who dumped the lingering souls of Huawel Sect's ancestral masters into my Domain?"
Xian Jianchen: "And who was it that got suppressed by those ancestral souls in Huawel Floating City, only to be saved by me?"
Song Qianji: "Who used a contract to bind me first?"
Xian Jianchen: "Who claimed to be my disciple first?"
"..."
Before they could untangle this messy account, another massive wave struck.
The black-canopied boat spun wildly in the enormous swell, like a leaf caught in a whirlpool.
"The boat's going to capsize—maintain your formations!"
"If you dare do nothing, we'll capsize together!"
Amid their argument, a sinister voice suddenly emerged from the waters: "As the saying goes, it takes a century of cultivation to share a boat ride. Pity you master and disciple will capsize in this river today."
The moment the first syllable sounded, sixteen sword lights flashed from beneath the water, shooting straight toward the black-canopied boat.
Sixteen sword shadows, launched simultaneously, sealing all escape routes for the small vessel.This was a long-prepared, certain-kill strike that absolutely could not miss.
But the moment the sword light flashed, Song Qianji had already drawn his blade.
With a single sweep of his Shadowless Sword, he severed ten streaks of sword light.
When Song Qianji reached the river's center, he had subtly signaled to Xian Jianchen that there were ambushers beneath the water.
Their half-real, half-feigned argument was meant to confuse the enemy. The waiting foes indeed seized the perceived opening and launched their attack prematurely.
Meanwhile, Song Qianji had elevated his battle intent and sword intent to their peak, ready at any moment to deliver his most powerful strike.
Miserable cries echoed repeatedly. Enemies burst from the water's surface, and more sword lights flared.
Sword energy ran rampant, crisscrossing wildly, while water spouts surged skyward.
The river raged like an angered dragon, the Bailong River truly resembling a furious, maddened serpent.
Suddenly, Xian Jianchen tossed an object from the cabin: "Catch this sword!"
Without hesitation, Song Qianji sheathed his Shadowless Sword and grabbed the new blade.
Abruptly, his wrist sank, and his heart sank even deeper.
So heavy, this sword.
Xian Jianchen said, "This sword is named 'Crossing Rivers.' It can harness the surging water's momentum to enhance your sword intent—perfect for your current situation."
"So heavy! How is this suitable?" Song Qianji gripped the hilt tightly with both hands, barely managing to hold it steady.
Then he heard Xian Jianchen recite leisurely: "'Golden ropes open the path to enlightenment, the precious raft crosses the bewildering rivers.' Wielding this sword, you must possess the spirit to sail against the current and defy the heavens. Otherwise, you'll be dragged down by the sword itself."
Sailing a great river, capsizing comes easiest.
Yet how can one possibly cross all its treacherous winds and waves?
Xian Jianchen sat steadily in the cabin, reciting heart sutras, while Song Qianji stood at the bow, sword in hand, stubbornly guarding the boat.
A sinister chuckle sounded once more: "Xian Jianchen, you've roamed the mortal world for centuries, making enemies everywhere. Only now are you starting to teach a disciple—isn't it a bit too late!"
Disciples of great sects and noble clans are monitored by their masters from childhood, force-fed spirit medicines, having their spirit veins opened, and their sword bones tempered. Not a single step can be delayed—to fall behind is to lose at the starting line.
"Indeed, it's not early!" Song Qianji found himself in rare agreement with the enemy.
"Not late, not late," Xian Jianchen countered. "Have you mastered all the heart sutras I just taught you?"
Song Qianji: "Com! Plete! Ly! For! Got! Ten—!"
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