The Grand Assembly of Distinguished Appraisals—a gathering where one ascends lofty peaks and gains renown across the world. Young cultivators from the four continents, thirty-six provinces, and overseas islands all came seeking fame.
Yet before the assembly had officially begun, one man had already achieved such prominence without even climbing for victory.
He possessed neither power nor wealth, yet commanded the unwavering loyalty of thousands of disciples.
He had seen Miaoyan with his own eyes, yet remained unmoved by her nation-toppling beauty.
Without wielding a single weapon, he sent the Six Sages of Green Cliff fleeing in panic.
Tonight at Yaoguang Lake, he broke through heavy encirclement alone—not for the hall full of treasures, but to pluck a flower from a temple.
Truly, meeting him surpassed hearing his fame!
The crowd watched Song Qianji with complex emotions, their gazes piercing as if trying to dissect him inside and out.
Some envied Huawai Sect for having such a genius who could uphold the sect's honor at critical moments, while others felt relieved their own sects lacked such trouble-makers who disrupted the Outer Sect.
Knowing Song Qianji hadn't yet taken a master and reportedly held grudges with Huawai Sect's Deacon Hall—meaning he could switch sects during the assembly—some considered recruiting him. Though troublesome in the Outer Sect, such talent deserved direct admission to the Inner Sect as a personal disciple.
Personal disciples thought fundamentally differently from Outer Sect disciples. Having enjoyed their sect's privileges, they knew the stronger the sect grew, the more cultivation resources they'd receive—hence they always prioritized the sect's interests.
As for those clan cultivators connected to the Six Sages of Green Cliff, intimidated by Song Qianji's displayed movement techniques and demeanor, they temporarily abandoned thoughts of causing trouble.
Considering those six merely rode on ancestral prestige while being worthless themselves—without direct blood ties or life-and-death bonds—it wasn't worth confronting a tough opponent for them. Better to stay silent and feign ignorance.
Chen Hongzhu entertained no such complicated thoughts, only feeling the Zhao Family members had arrived at the worst possible time.
After today's twists and turns, Huawai Sect had ultimately prevailed without tarnishing the host's prestige. Just as the event was concluding smoothly, Song Qianji's identity had been exposed.
Thinking this, she shot a fierce glare at Zhao Jiheng.
Hearing Zhao Jiheng's voice, Song Qianji turned and smiled: "What a coincidence."
The recliner in his courtyard was a gift from Zhao Jiheng—complete with soft cushions, placed beneath the flower trellis, feeling like sinking into clouds when leaning back.
Remembering the recliner, he smiled.
Zhao Jiheng was infuriated by this smile: "Are you and Meng Heze alone?"
Song Qianji nodded.
Zhao Jiheng was overjoyed.
If not for his uncle's stern warning to avoid provoking Song, how could he have endured until today?
Scanning his surroundings—his half-step Golden Core cousin Zhao Mu ahead, numerous clan disciples friendly with the Zhao Family around—while Song Qianji, deprived of Outer Sect support with only Meng Heze beside him, trapped in heavy encirclement, was like a lamb entering a wolf pack.
Was heaven aiding him? Could he trample Song beneath his feet tonight?
This thought excited him immensely, his eyes gleaming.
Suddenly, Zhao Mu asked: "What happened to Fairy Feng? Why are you weeping?"
Though unaware of the context, his question both demonstrated compassion for beauty and redirected the hall's attention from Song Qianji.
Seizing the opportunity, Zhao Jiheng urgently added: "Fairy Feng, did these two Outer Sect brats offend you? Rest assured, with us brothers here, we won't let them get away!"
The crowd indeed shifted their gaze toward them, though with peculiar expressions.Zhao Mu had a bad premonition and quickly sent a voice transmission to Zhao Jiheng, signaling him to shut up.
Feng Ziyi was startled to find tears on her face. She wiped them away hastily and glared angrily at Zhao Jiheng.
But when she saw Song Qianji's gentle expression—devoid of any mockery, disdain, or disrespect—her expression softened considerably. She only said to Song Qianji:
"What did you just say? I didn't hear clearly."
"I'd like to ask, fellow cultivator, where was this flower planted, and how was it cultivated?"
Seeing her tear-streaked face, though he didn't understand why, Song Qianji said: "If I have offended you in any way, I apologize, fellow cultivator. I sincerely hope you can enlighten me."
Feng Ziyi was astonished.
Just moments ago, this person had been overwhelmingly imposing, as if he could take an enemy commander's head amidst ten thousand troops. Now, holding the flower and speaking softly to her, he was actually extremely proper and polite.
Her tone involuntarily softened: "Our Great Yan Sect has a Spirit Spring. Plants and trees touched by its waters flourish with vitality; birds and beasts that drink from it gain human-like intelligence. These clusters of Jade Blooms grew by the Spirit Spring, bathed day and night in its grace, naturally extraordinary. However, in recent years the Spirit Qi has gradually declined. When cultivators drink the spring water now, it no longer has healing effects..."
"Senior Sister!" A sect member behind her interrupted.
Feng Ziyi fell silent.
The sect member breathed a sigh of relief, afraid she would continue and reveal all their secrets.
Hearing "Spirit Spring," Song Qianji felt a stir in his heart.
The Fountain of Immortality was within his Purple Palace, ceaselessly nourishing all his Spirit Veins day and night.
But the spiritual pressure of such a heavenly treasure was immensely powerful; he couldn't touch it yet. If he could extract a few drops to anoint the plants he cultivated, wouldn't that be delightful?
Why not create my own Cultivation Method, integrating the absorption of Spirit Qi into natural breathing? This way, whether eating, sleeping, farming, or watering flowers, I could enhance my cultivation just by breathing. Once my cultivation level is high enough, I could then access the Fountain of Immortality.
This idea was truly extraordinary. If the Song Qianji of his previous life heard it, he would have scolded it as wishful thinking and daydreaming—cultivation couldn't possibly be that easy.
But now, his intuition told him it was feasible, as long as he pondered it carefully.
Seeing his genuine joy, Feng Ziyi thought, Did he become so happy just from my one answer?
No matter how dull Zhao Jiheng was, he now sensed something was wrong. Although the waterside pavilion was crowded, no one was targeting Song Qianji.
Holding an armful of scrolls, he looked at his cousin.
Zhao Mu's face had already turned ashen.
Feng Ziyi tapped the jade table: "Once I placed this Mermaid King Pearl on the table, I never intended to take it back. Otherwise, if word gets out, those who know might say you refused it yourselves, but those who don't would think I, Feng Ziyi, don't keep my word! Take it away, as an apology for my disciples recklessly using Magical Artifacts and breaking the rules on the lake earlier.Zhao Jiheng was incredulous and utterly collapsed. You two didn't fight, but instead apologized to each other?
He stared wide-eyed, watching as members of other sects expressed their stance one after another, urging Song Qianji and Meng Heze to accept the Magical Artifacts.
The world has gone mad!
"We are convinced and naturally honor our promise."
"Since we agreed beforehand, our sect will certainly not go back on our word."
"We hope both fellow cultivators will grant us face and let bygones be bygones!"
Some wanted to show goodwill to Song and Meng, hoping to persuade them to switch sects; others didn't want to appear narrow-minded or stingy, unlike the Great Yan Sect.
Senior Brother Song looked at Meng Heze's expression and smiled: "Go ahead and collect them."
Meng Heze was delighted but forced calm on his face as he took out his Storage Bag and began storing the items one by one.Song Qianji expressed his thanks, bid farewell, and left with Meng Heze.
Chen Hongzhu asked, "Has everyone enjoyed themselves tonight?"
Watching the retreating figures of Song and Meng, the crowd unanimously affirmed their enjoyment.
Feng Ziyi touched her empty hairline and stood up: "I'm tired, let's go back."
Before long, the waterside pavilion stood empty.
Only the shattered reflection of the bright moon in the lake center remained, with willow tendrils fluttering along the shore.
Zhao Mu tightly gripped his folding fan, speaking with difficulty: "Let's go."
Zhao Jiheng looked horrified: "Then what about these paintings? Should we present them next time?"
Hadn't his cousin poured his heart and soul into these works, working diligently all for tonight—to display the scrolls before everyone, earn a reputation as a talented painter of beauties, and thereby stand out from the crowd?
Zhao Mu's face darkened as he shot him a cold glare: "Take them and burn them!"
"What?" Zhao Jiheng couldn't bear the thought.
Zhao Mu gazed toward the lakeshore, where the two figures had already merged with the distant mountains in the night, no longer visible.
Gritting his teeth, he said, "No more questions. This plan is ruined. We'll have to rely on surprising moves during the Calligraphy and Painting Examination!"
※※※
Meng Heze walked along the mountain path.
He felt as if he weren't stepping on hard stone steps but rather floating on clouds, drifting weightlessly.
Sudden wealth could feel no more surreal than this.
Only when they reached the Outer Sect dormitory area did he regain some clarity: "Senior Brother Song, you're truly amazing! We've struck it rich!"
Song Qianji looked puzzled: "What would I need them for? They're for you."
"For me?"
Song Qianji nodded: "Not angry anymore, are you?"
Meng Heze froze, suddenly feeling ashamed.
So Senior Brother Song had me accept these treasures to calm my anger because I'm about to break through and shouldn't get agitated. Why do I always make my senior brother worry about me?
He shook his head repeatedly: "No, whatever Senior Brother won should belong to Senior Brother!"
"When have you ever seen me use magical artifacts?" Song Qianji laughed. "These artifacts have been legitimately obtained today. Later when you find a good master and don't become a rogue cultivator, you won't have to worry about others coveting them. When you become a Great Adept, you may accept what others willingly give you. What others don't give, you cannot seize by relying on your cultivation. Otherwise, even if you gain temporary advantage, you'll eventually pay the price and find it difficult to achieve true enlightenment..."
He suddenly stopped speaking. In this lifetime, Meng Heze wouldn't become the Evil Buddha—he was inherently upright and didn't need lessons learned through blood and tears.
It was just that, thinking about their inevitable separation, he couldn't help saying a few extra words.
Before parting, he would remind Meng Heze about the sect destruction disaster two years later—that would be doing his utmost in benevolence.
In our previous life I pushed you off a cliff, but in this life at least I haven't harmed you.
Meng Heze thought to himself, if I can't apprentice under the same master as Senior Brother Song, I'd rather not go at all.
Otherwise, who would brew tea and pour water for senior brother, who would prepare soups and cook noodles?
Song Qianji recalled the painting scroll in Zhao Jiheng's embrace.
Lately, there seemed to be too many people practicing painting and calligraphy. He had heard about "Hua Wei's expensive paper"—because the Calligrapher Sage was coming to Huawel Sect, talisman practitioners from everywhere had gathered in Hua Wei City.
This never happened in his previous life. Could it be that after his rebirth, pulling one hair moved the whole body—Wei Zhenyu had appeared earlier, so the Calligrapher Sage came to take disciples?
Wei Zhenyu kept a low profile in his early years. In social gatherings like tonight's waterside pavilion party, he would certainly not be present.
Song Qianji looked up at the sky, where a crescent moon shone brightly.
A galaxy spanned half the night sky, each star twinkling with fragmented light, falling beyond the mountains.
But he wondered which star was the young savior, and where he might be on this night?
As he pondered, Song Courtyard drew near. Outside the vermilion gate, peach blossoms had withered, leaving fallen red petals covering the ground.
Balsam flowers and bean sprouts bathed in the clear moonlight, swaying gently in the breeze.Song Qianji's heart leaped with joy, instantly casting aside all worldly troubles.
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