The night had deepened.
Lights in the various courtyards of the Immortal Official Manor gradually extinguished, and the sounds of people quieted.
The Thousand-Ditch Prefecture was dusty, and the moonlight was not bright. Gathered Light filtered hazily through the clouds, like the elusive dreams of disciples.
The many plants in Song Courtyard were not asleep. Having just moved to their new home, they were silently taking root in the unfamiliar soil, striving to breathe the new air.
As the saying goes, "Transplanted trees die, transplanted people thrive." In truth, plants and people are alike. Sheltered under a Glass Cover, each is delicate and tender, but when truly faced with harsh and barren conditions, they must lower their heads and carve out a path.
A faint candle flame flickered in the wind on the stone table, casting the faces of the two players in shifting light and shadow.
The crisscrossing lines of the chessboard, the smooth-textured black and white stones, the composed Song Qianji, and Ji Chen wiping sweat from his brow.
Ji Chen pondered deeply and calculated repeatedly before making each move.
His efforts seemed futile. They had played three games, and in each, he was thoroughly defeated.
Yet he still found it fascinating, as if a great door were slowly opening, and he was stepping into an entirely new world.
It made him feel that he wasn’t entirely useless.
Song Qianji, in truth, was not at ease. Each profession has its own expertise, and guiding a future Grand Formation Master into the field made him fear he might hinder the other’s talent.
Thus, he spoke sparingly, allowing Ji Chen to think for himself.
In the wind, only the chirping of insects and the crisp sound of stones being placed could be heard, occasionally punctuated by the crackling of the lamp wick.
Song Qianji looked up at the hazy moon in the sky. "Let’s stop here for tonight."
Ji Chen, still engrossed, reluctantly left the board. "I’ve disturbed Brother Song for too long. It’s time I take my leave…"
"Wait." Song Qianji pulled out a coverless booklet from his robe, flipped to a certain page, and pointed it out to Ji Chen.
"Is this a chess manual?"
"It’s a formation. A secret manual of formations left by the Chess Devil."
Ji Chen exclaimed in astonishment, "That’s a treasure! Brother Song, are you going to teach me how to set up formations?"
He examined it under the faint candlelight and smiled wryly. "Brother Song treats me well and has put great thought into this, but I only half-understand chess. I’m afraid I won’t be able to learn something this difficult."
Years of failing to master calligraphy, painting, and Talismans had severely shaken his confidence.
Song Qianji reassured him, "It’s not difficult. Using formation materials to channel Spirit Qi and control space—that’s what a formation is."
He tapped his finger on the yellowed page. "Tonight, we’ll start with the 'Entrapment Formation.' If someone comes, use this to entertain them."
"Alright, Brother Song, please teach me." Ji Chen nodded solemnly.
Sometimes, the more nervous a person is, the easier it is for their mind to wander.
Ji Chen tried hard to focus but couldn’t help wondering who would come uninvited in the dead of night.
To set up an Entrapment Formation, the visitor must be an enemy, not a friend.
How could he, having only just learned formations on paper tonight, dare to face an enemy in actual combat?
Song Qianji noticed his unease. "What’s wrong?"
Ji Chen fidgeted, lowering his head and picking at his hands. "What if I make a mistake…"
Song Qianji smiled. "I’ll back you up."
Ji Chen looked up abruptly, staring at him in a daze until his eyes reddened.
Song Qianji was startled, shadows of worry descending once more. Not again, is he going to cry? What did I do wrong this time? Maybe I should preemptively apologize?
But Ji Chen whispered, "Only my father has ever said that to me."
When his father was still alive, he had never hesitated or shrunk back in fear.
No matter what he did or how much trouble he caused, he was never afraid, because he knew someone stood behind him, always ready to back him up.
…
At midnight, the hazy moonlight grew clear and bright.
A giant bat flapped its wings, flew over the wall, and descended among the layered towers and pavilions.The wind's wings sliced like blades, scattering broken leaves from the branches.
When it landed, a face was revealed under the moonlight, wearing a disdainful expression—it wasn't a bat at all, but a person.
Zhao Ren suppressed his aura and stepped into the small courtyard, thinking to himself that this Song fellow wasn't all that capable. He hadn't managed to subdue the Estate Protecting Array, and Zhao Ren could still come and go as he pleased.
The courtyard appeared abandoned on the surface, but in reality, it was equipped with a Concealment Array that could block Divine Sense probing. The entrance to his treasure vault was right under the well.
He didn't know what madness had struck Song Qianji, but in just half a day, the place had been completely transformed, filled with vegetables, flowers, and trees.
He could sense that the treasure vault entrance remained unopened, and presumably, the contents inside were still untouched, which put his mind at ease.
Zhao Ren moved silently. Through a wisteria trellis, he faintly glimpsed Song Qianji's figure.
Amid the dappled shadows of flowers, the man reclined in a lounge chair, eyes half-closed, as if he had fallen asleep while admiring the moon.
In his sleep, his slightly thin body sank into the chair, making him truly resemble a tender fifteen-year-old youth.
Just as Zhao Ren was about to enter the well to retrieve his treasures, a thought suddenly crossed his mind.
Song Qianji had stirred up serious trouble. Both his family and sect were eager to eliminate him but had been unable to do so.
The reasons were simple: first, his reputation was at its peak, and killing him would be unjustifiable; second, he had powerful backing, and killing him risked retaliation.
Since they couldn't kill him openly and no assassination opportunities had arisen...
During the day, everyone had witnessed him leaving Thousand-Ditch Prefecture. No one had seen him turn back.
On this moonless, windy night, this courtyard happened to have a formation. Eliminating the isolated Song Qianji now would be done without a trace.
It would be a great merit for both his family and his sect.
Song Qianji possessed quite a few valuable items. Although the treasures left by the Sage were a great opportunity, they were too conspicuous—acquiring them would likely bring endless trouble.
But those two hundred thousand Spirit Stones weren't marked with the Song name. Whoever got them would own them.
A murderous intent flashed through his mind, but he didn't act recklessly.
His fingers rested on his sword hilt as he repeatedly weighed the risks, considering whether it was worth the gamble.
The wind blew, petals fell, and a subtle fragrance drifted through the air.
Behind the flower trellis, Song Qianji suddenly opened his eyes, his gaze piercing straight through the floral shadows and landing directly on him.
"Not good!" Zhao Ren decisively leaped into the air, vanishing into the night sky like a bat taking flight.
"Ah!"
A scream echoed mid-air as the bat's wings were broken, and he plummeted to the ground.
His sword was only half-drawn, not even fully unsheathed.
The Spirit Qi in the small courtyard abruptly shifted, winds rising and clouds swirling.
Fine golden threads shot out simultaneously from the roof tiles, corners, flower trellises, and stone tables, crisscrossing the sky like a net descending from above.
It was like a trapping net falling over his head, pinning Zhao Ren firmly at the center, leaving him unable to move.
Damn it, it's an Entrapment Formation! he thought in terror.
Where did Song Qianji find a Formation Master who could set up a formation in just half a day?
"Brother Song, we caught him!" A figure leaped out from the deep night, excitedly exclaiming, "He really can't get out!"
"It's you, brat!" Zhao Ren recognized Ji Chen, his eyes blazing with fury. "Fine, I misjudged you. You—"
But Ji Chen's next words nearly made him spit blood in rage: "This is my first time setting up a formation, Brother Song! We even cobbled together the Formation materials, and it actually worked."
"Not bad." Song Qianji finally rose from the lounge chair, shuffling in his slippers as he walked up to Zhao Ren. "Fellow Daoist Zhao, good evening."
Good evening, my foot.
"Junior Brother Song, this is all a misunderstanding!" Zhao Ren also smiled, his tone laced with a hidden threat. "Stop joking around and take this formation down quickly. Otherwise, if I break it by force, the Formation Master will surely suffer a backlash."Ji Chen felt nervous but didn't want to show weakness: "Sneaking in so late at night, you're definitely up to no good."
"I came to take what's rightfully mine!" Zhao Ren declared with self-righteous indignation.
Song Qianji shook his head: "That doesn't belong to you. It belongs to Thousand Canals."
"The entire Thousand Canals is mine!" Zhao Ren gritted his teeth.
"Thousand Canals belongs to its people."
Seeing Song Qianji remain unmoved, Zhao Ren's expression turned completely cold:
"Song Qianji, I'm a direct descendant of the family! If you dare harm a single hair on my head, the Zhao Family of Tianbei Prefecture will demand your life in return!"
Song Qianji could tell the man wasn't very bright and sighed patiently, reasoning with him:
"This afternoon you stormed off in front of everyone. Who knows you came back? No one, right? As a Golden Core cultivator, no one in Thousand-Ditch Prefecture has higher cultivation than you. Who could kill you? Meanwhile, outside the prefecture lies the Poison Barrier Forest, teeming with fierce beasts. Cultivators who die there can't even have their bones recovered..."
Zhao Ren trembled. The Concealment Array in this courtyard was originally his proud creation, but now he cursed it bitterly.
Song Qianji said: "I just want to ask you for something. You can consider it payment for your life. How about that?"
Fine, going for the big demand, are you?
"I won't pay! Do you think I'd submit to threats from a little bastard like you?" Zhao Ren sneered, "I won't give you a single coin! I don't believe you actually dare to make a move! Come on, kill me if you have the guts!"
He thrust his neck forward, eyes wide with rage, ferocious as a vengeful ghost.
Ji Chen had never seen anything like this and instinctively retreated two steps.
Seeing this, Zhao Ren laughed triumphantly: "Still wet behind the ears, and already learning to extort people... AAAAAH!"
He suddenly let out a piercing shriek like a slaughtered pig.
"Ah!" This was Ji Chen's startled cry.
"Stand behind me, be careful of the splatter," Song Qianji said.
A half-whittled bamboo strip, its tip sharp, had pierced straight through Zhao Ren's shoulder blade, protruding from his back.
Song Qianji slowly pulled out the bamboo strip, his expression unchanged, not even blinking.
This was newly cut bamboo from the afternoon, leftover scraps from building the new fence.
Now held in his hand, its length and width resembled that of a sword.
A dull knife causes more pain when cutting flesh, and bamboo strips with wood splinters naturally hurt even more.
Zhao Ren knelt on the ground, teeth chattering, face pale as blood gushed out.
Song Qianji bent down, took Zhao Ren's hand, and placed it on his shoulder: "Here, press hard on this spot, it'll slow the bleeding. Keep pressing yourself, I won't help you. Don't panic, with this much blood loss, you won't die within one incense stick's time. Fellow Daoist Zhao, I have some small conditions I hope you'll listen to."
Song Qianji stood up and lit an incense stick with his blood-stained hand.
A spark flashed as light smoke drifted.
Zhao Ren, eyes bloodshot, cursed vehemently, but the pain made him weep uncontrollably.
The curses became too vulgar to hear. Song Qianji glanced at Ji Chen's pale face, removed Zhao Ren's hand, and gave him another "sword" strike.
Two adjacent wounds overlapped.
This time Zhao Ren couldn't curse anymore, only opening his mouth wide in silent screams.
"At this stage, it's very treatable and won't leave aftereffects, won't affect your future sword use," Song Qianji comforted. "Fellow Daoist Zhao, Brother Zhao, we have no enmity between us. Nobody wants something like this to happen. Actually, we share the same goal - we both want this suffering to end quickly. Don't you agree?"
He spoke the truth.
Some things he had been very skilled at in his previous life, but in this life he didn't want to do them again.
Proficiency didn't equate to enjoyment.
He hoped to resolve this quickly.He helped Zhao Ren press down on the wound again.
Zhao Ren stared as if seeing a devil, weeping like a child who had lost his mother.
Was Song Qianji even human anymore?
Why could he strike so viciously yet remain utterly unshaken, his expression unchanged?
As Song Qianji raised his sword to strike again, Zhao Ren screamed desperately, "Name your price! Just name it!"
Song Qianji nodded. "That's more like it. You don’t have these things on hand, but you can write a letter to gather them from elsewhere. I know you can manage it."
"Speak quickly!" Zhao Ren clutched his bleeding arm. "I’ll agree to anything."
Song Qianji listed, "Three thousand catties of millet, three thousand head of livestock, three thousand saplings, three thousand catties of wheat…"
The more Zhao Ren listened, the more dazed he became, even wondering if he was hallucinating. Could these things really buy his life?
Ji Chen watched his shifting expressions and couldn’t help laughing. Suddenly, he paused, thinking, What did Brother Song do before? Where did he learn such tactics?
If I were Zhao Ren, would I still be laughing?
Thankfully, Brother Song is my good friend.
...
The village was bustling at dawn.
The crowing of roosters and barking of dogs intertwined loudly, while trails of cooking smoke drifted slowly into the clouds.
A woman stood by the stove, boiling bean paste.
The paste tasted bitter and had a coarse texture, but at least it filled the stomach.
A child trailed behind her. "Mom, when will Dad come back?"
"In a few more days," the woman replied with a smile. "The more well-behaved you are, the sooner he’ll return."
"But how many days is that?" Xiao Hu pressed insistently. "I’ve been very good already."
The woman couldn’t answer, her smile unable to mask her worry.
They didn’t know what temper the new Immortal Official had or whether something might go wrong.
"Huan Niang, Huan Niang!" Suddenly, knocking and shouting erupted at the door, voices overlapping. "Great news!"
Huan Niang hurried to open the door and found half the village gathered outside.
The last time so many people had gathered at her doorstep was when Liu the Carpenter’s leg was broken.
"Village Chief, Uncle, Third Uncle, what’s happened?"
"It’s wonderful news! The new Immortal Official personally appointed Liu Er as Minister of Agriculture! Word has spread all over Tiancheng—the Curved Shaft Plow he presented is a treasure!"
"The Immortal Official will heal his leg and even tour Thousand Canals with him. They’re coming here too!"
"Our village has produced a high Minister of Agriculture! You and Xiao Hu will live in comfort now!"
Xiao Hu didn’t understand fully but knew it was good news, clapping his hands repeatedly.
"Really?" Huan Niang was overjoyed but asked cautiously, "Which is higher, Minister of Agriculture or Village Chief?"
"Minister of Agriculture, of course!" the old village chief laughed heartily. "Minister of Agriculture is a high official!"
"And Minister of Agriculture versus Township Chief?"
"Still Minister of Agriculture! Stop overthinking it. The Minister of Agriculture answers only to the Immortal Official and can go anywhere in Thousand Canals without hindrance. Even the Township Chief would have to kneel and call him ‘Your Excellency’! Huan Niang, that local bully won’t dare trouble you anymore!"
"Minister of Agriculture is that powerful? Can such good fortune be real…" Huan Niang looked dazed, then her smile vanished as she cried out in alarm, "Has he been beaten to death? Is he not coming back? Are you lying to me? Tell me the truth—is he still alive?!"
"Someone from Tiancheng has arrived!"
Another shout rang out, growing closer as the messenger ran through the morning mist:
"Tiancheng has sent people! They’re here to distribute grain!"
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