"Minister of Rites, I shall personally draft a letter. Dispatch someone with generous gifts to deliver it to the Minister of Military Affairs in Hongfu Prefecture. He will naturally report to Immortal Official Liu. Ensure this is done discreetly."
The Minister of Rites stepped forward to acknowledge the order.
Thousand-Ditch Prefecture bordered Hongfu Prefecture to the east. The Immortal Official there, surnamed Liu, hailed from Mingxia Peak of the Huawei Sect and was a clansman of Elder Liu Hongfeng from the Discipline Hall.
A decade ago, during the great drought in Thousand-Ditch Prefecture, the people exhausted all means attempting to relocate their families to Hongfu. However, the border guards were brutal—captured refugees were beaten to death on the spot, their corpses left to rot along the boundary line as a warning. Gradually, no one dared risk crossing.
When the elder proposed sending a letter to Immortal Official Liu of Hongfu, everyone immediately understood his intention.
"Elder Li, we urge you to reconsider! This is no different from driving out a tiger by inviting a wolf!"
"That Song fellow is vile, but this Liu won’t be easily dealt with either."
"Ah, how I miss the days under Zhao Ren. As long as he received his bribes, he’d turn a blind eye to everything. Unlike Song Qianji—we’ve offered treasures at the God Temple until we’re nearly stripped bare, yet how does he repay us? By enforcing that vicious ‘land tax’ policy!"
Having dealt with Immortal Officials for years, they knew these beings were still mortal—sometimes greedier than mortals themselves.
Cultivators from noble families and sects focused solely on cultivation, transcending mortal limits in power. Yet this very transcendence made them ignorant of common sense.
The wealthy clans secretly held no fear of Immortal Officials. Outwardly reverent and obedient, they constantly schemed to exploit them.
Elder Li coughed heavily and declared gravely:
"Inviting a wolf to drive out a tiger? Precisely. Song Qianji is the savage tiger, Liu Hongshan the greedy wolf. But at least we know what Immortal Official Liu desires. Can any of you claim to understand what Song Qianji truly wants?"
Silence fell.
It was said Meng Heze, under Song Qianji’s command, had locked the gates of the God Temple, forbidding all worship.
Song Qianji wouldn’t even accept kneeling from mortals.
A cultivator who refused offerings and faith—what else could he want?
And what was this "thousand-jin per mu yield" nonsense? He didn’t even need to eat.
"Song Qianji’s actions are utterly unpredictable. In this life-or-death crisis, our only chance is to take a desperate gamble—sacrifice flesh to lure the wolf and seize an opportunity."
Seeing the grim expressions around him, Elder Li shouted: "Lift your spirits! Unite! The true struggle hasn’t even begun. Those with flesh must cut it, those with blood must spill it. Our land remains here! Our families have lived here for generations! We are the true masters of Thousand Canals!"
"For the glory and dignity of our ancestral legacy! For your sons to inherit estates and granaries! For the prosperity of our descendants!"
Outside the hall, the night stretched vast and dark. Inside, lanterns blazed brightly.
The tides of confusion, fear, and agitation receded, leaving only pairs of bloodshot, ruthless eyes.
"Drive Song Qianji—" The aged voice lowered, yet echoed through the hall.
The crowd finished in unison: "—out of Thousand Canals!"
…
Only after arriving in Thousand-Ditch Prefecture did Ji Chen truly feel purpose and rebirth.
He could delve into weiqi strategies, study Formation Arts under Song Qianji, tend to Daoist Zhao Ren’s injuries while using him as a practice dummy for various formations.
The outer sect disciples treated him kindly—no one looked down on him or tried to control him. Where the young gathered, there was always extraordinary vitality.
He considered his decision to follow Brother Song to Thousand Canals a stroke of genius—an incomparably wise choice.
This was infinitely better than idling at home, being called a worthless fool behind his back."That's all for today." Song Qianji closed the old chess manual.
"Brother Song, I'll take my leave." Ji Chen seemed rather reluctant. He opened the self-made soundproof, breathable well cover and peered down into the shaft. "Fellow Daoist Zhao, see you tomorrow!"
Zhao Ren shuddered violently, looking up with a smile even uglier than a crying face:
"N-no need to meet, really, you're too kind."
After Ji Chen left, Song Qianji crouched by the well, smiling faintly:
"Brother Zhao, how's your recovery coming along?"
"Fully recovered, completely healed!" Zhao Ren hurriedly shouted. "Senior Brother Song, Elder Brother Song, I've given you everything you asked for. You made me swear by my Dao heart not to reveal anything or seek revenge, and I did. Please, just let me go!"
Song Qianji said, "Let's discuss this—do one last thing for me, and I'll send you on your way. How about it?"
Zhao Ren was about to agree but then looked despairing.
Then Song Qianji asked, "I've written a letter. Deliver it for me to the Immortal Official of neighboring Hongfu Prefecture."
Could it really be that simple?
"What are you planning?" Zhao Ren asked warily. "Just a letter?"
His mind raced.
He had carelessly admitted defeat this time, but he'd heard that Liu Hongshan was on the verge of breaking through to the Nascent Soul Stage. With that bastard's cultivation level, no matter how exquisite a Qi Refining Stage Formation Master's arrays were, they wouldn't be able to control him.
He forced a smile: "Hongfu is wealthy—Immortal Official Liu has accumulated who knows how many treasures over the years. His family has vast enterprises, overflowing with riches. Shaking me down is nothing compared to shaking him down!"
Song Qianji said sincerely, "Fellow Daoist Zhao, I'm just a farmer. I have no interest in extorting people everywhere."
Zhao Ren clutched his shoulder, thinking: Talking nonsense with a straight face—as if I'd believe a word of it.
But outwardly he nodded repeatedly: "Yes, yes, I shouldn't measure a farmer's heart with a cultivator's ruler!"
Since arriving, Song Qianji had studied many maps.
Southern Hongfu Prefecture suffered from spring floods. If they could dredge the river channels, reinforce the embankments, and dig a canal to divert water from Hongfu to Thousand Canals, it would be mutually beneficial—Thousand Canals would have water for irrigation, and Hongfu would be free from flood disasters. Then Thousand Canals would truly have a canal, taking a small step toward living up to its name.
But this was just a proposal. If the other party disagreed, Song Qianji had no intention of forcing it.
He had plenty of alternatives. At worst, he could dig a canal from the Poison Barrier Forest. It would take some effort to refine a set of water filtration Magical Artifacts to remove toxins and impurities before the water reached Thousand Canals, but then Thousand Canals Prefecture would still have water for irrigation.
Thanks to his previous life, he had many skills at his disposal—he happened to know a bit about artifact refining.
The message Talisman flew into the night sky, heading east. Zhao Ren breathed a sigh of relief, full of hope: "Senior Brother Song, can you remove the array and let me go now?"
"Senior Brother Song!" A youthful voice called from the entrance of Song Courtyard.
"Wait." Song Qianji went to meet Meng Heze.
"Hey, Brother Song!" Zhao Ren protested unwillingly, but the well cover above him closed once more.
Why did he have to come now, of all times? Zhao Ren loathed Meng Heze.
This hatred even surpassed what he felt for Ji Chen.
As for Song Qianji? Compared to the others, Song Qianji was practically a gentle, kind-hearted good person.
"How did it go?" Song Qianji asked while looking Meng Heze up and down.
Meng Heze felt a warmth in his heart: "Senior Brother's plan was thorough. Everyone is fine—no need to worry!"
Song Qianji thought: A father worries when his son travels far—it's only human nature.
Meng Heze pulled out a Storage Bag: "These are all the varieties of flowers and plants from the edge of the Poison Barrier Forest. I collected one of each, as you requested."Song Qianji pulled out a stack of talismans: "Switch to these tomorrow."
"We haven't ventured deep into the jungle yet, so the Miasma Warding Talismans haven't run out," Meng Heze said softly. "Senior Brother, you needn't work so hard."
"It's no trouble," Song Qianji replied.
Unlike the self-created Focusing Light Talisman which required careful thought, Miasma Warding Talismans had existed in his previous life. He could produce them effortlessly with a single stroke of his brush.
The outer sect disciples had previously split into two teams. One team, led by two female cultivators and two gamblers, was busy delivering chickens everywhere.
The other team, led by Meng Heze, headed to the northern border of Thousand-Ditch Prefecture—the Toxic Miasma Forest.
Due to its proximity to the border and primeval forests, the northern region of Thousand Canals had relatively humid air, second only to the Celestial City.
Ordinary people's livelihoods typically involved farming, foraging, fishing, animal husbandry, or hunting.
With Thousand Canals' harsh natural conditions—no fish to catch, no fruits to gather—hunting remained the fastest-returning option.
However, the forest's miasma was toxic, and the fierce beasts were no ordinary creatures but mostly demonic beasts. For mortals, entering the forest meant certain death.
In recent years, demonic beasts had grown increasingly rampant, occasionally emerging to prey on villagers and livestock while wantonly trampling and destroying farmlands.
"Any gains today?" Song Qianji asked.
Meng Heze boasted, "Today we worked together to take down a low-level Red-Eyed Wolf! We distributed the meat among the villagers, lit a bonfire at the village entrance, and had an open-air barbecue feast! Once we coordinate better, we'll be able to hunt first-tier demonic beasts with demon cores!"
The best way to enhance combat prowess was through real battles. Fighting demonic beasts with unpredictable moves perfectly honed their combat skills and tactics.
The outer sect disciples believed Senior Brother Song had thoughtfully considered both their training and safety—Miasma Warding Talismans to resist the poisonous air and Focusing Light Talismans to signal for help.
With proper planning and methods, the Toxic Miasma Forest became a natural training ground.
Meng Heze shared many amusing hunting stories, having deliberately kept other disciples away so he could shine alone.
After patiently listening, Song Qianji realized the underlying request for praise.
"Well done," he attempted to compliment. "Yes, truly impressive."
Meng Heze's spirits soared as he rolled up his sleeves and dashed toward the stove. "I'll cook noodles for you, Senior Brother!"
"Very well," Song Qianji nodded.
He couldn't help but reflect: coming to Thousand Canals, becoming a grand immortal official governing a prefecture, acquiring endless fields to cultivate—superficially glorious, yet secretly still eating noodles.
Deep night had fallen, but cooking smoke drifted into the dark clouds, making the hazy moonlight appear even more indistinct.
From the kitchen wafted the humble aroma of wheat flour, the fresh scent of green vegetables and scallions, and the tangy richness of tomato broth.
Amid these warm, bustling fragrances, Song Qianji sat at the stone table examining the plants Meng Heze had brought under the dim moonlight.
With these specimens, he could assess the current miasma conditions in the forest based on experience.
For instance, this small plant—smoke-green with bell-shaped leaves—was called Miasma Bell Grass.
The denser the miasma, the darker its leaf coloration.
In his previous life when he entered the forest a century later, the Miasma Bell Grass along the jungle's edge had turned dark red, like congealed blood.
The current situation was much better than he'd anticipated.
Yet this indicated the toxic miasma had progressively worsened over the past century.
Song Qianji frowned slightly. Was this world truly deteriorating? What was causing such changes?
"Senior Brother Song, noodles are ready!" the youth called out.
As the broth's aroma washed over him, Song Qianji set down the green grass between his fingers.
He persuaded himself to stop dwelling on these matters.
In this lifetime, he didn't need to concern himself with the world—only tending to his fields would suffice.There are plenty of people concerned about the world—Song Qianji isn't indispensable.
After the Grand Audience Assembly concluded, various sects gradually departed from the Huawel Sect. A group of young people, whether renowned or obscure, gathered and then parted ways.
He Qingqing left for the Celestial Sound Sect in Southern Tiannan Province with her fellow disciples. Former classmates from the academy came to see her off, offering warm blessings and calling her the senior sister who emerged from Green Cliff.
"In the future, it won't be easy to hear you play the qin again. Since we've been classmates, play one more piece for everyone," someone suggested.
The crowd chimed in agreement, and even the Six Sages of Green Cliff joined the excitement, applauding and cheering loudly.
"If you wish to hear me play the qin, you must first submit a formal request," He Qingqing said calmly.
Her classmates' expressions instantly turned awkward, and they dispersed with embarrassed smiles, privately criticizing her for becoming arrogant and putting on airs after a single stroke of luck elevated her status.
In truth, He Qingqing did not dare to be arrogant.
After entering the Celestial Sound Sect, her master, Jiangyun, went on a long journey down the mountain.
Living alone in a high position, she tread carefully at every step, constantly fearing she would not live up to the role of senior sister and bring shame to her master.
In terms of cultivation and qin playing, she worked harder than anyone.
But her fellow disciples had enjoyed the finest resources since childhood, and their cultivation levels far surpassed hers—it was unreasonable to expect her to catch up overnight.
Late into the night, He Qingqing continued to practice the strings, her expression intensely focused.
The tea on the table had gone cold, the lamp wick had burned low, and her maid, Ping'er, leaned drowsily against the wall, stifling a yawn.
"Senior Sister, that person has returned!" Another maid, Xing'er, entered abruptly, breaking the stagnant silence.
"Quick, invite them in!" He Qingqing rose suddenly.
A young Outer Sect disciple, brought in by Xing'er, appeared timid and nervous.
After replenishing the tea, trimming the candle, and restarting the gathering, He Qingqing poured a cup of tea and handed it to the Outer Sect disciple herself:
"No rush, take your time."
The disciple seemed flustered: "As you instructed, Senior Sister, I went down the mountain to inquire about Song Xian Guan of Thousand-Ditch Prefecture. However, Thousand-Ditch Prefecture has been managed by the Northern Tianbei Zhao Clan in recent years, and very little news gets out."
"No news at all..." He Qingqing lowered her head, the light in her eyes dimming.
The young Outer Sect disciple hesitated: "There's only one thing—I heard that Song Qianji sealed the God Temple and forbids others from kneeling to him, though I don't know if it's true or not."
"It must be true!" He Qingqing laughed, "Thank you!"
"I only did my small part—no need for thanks. This disciple takes his leave!"
"Mm, I'll see you out," He Qingqing said.
"Wait!" Xing'er called out to her, first dismissing the Outer Sect disciple to wait outside the hall. "Wait outside for a moment."
He Qingqing looked puzzled.
Ping'er covered her mouth and giggled: "Senior Sister almost made another mistake."
He Qingqing was taken aback: "What?"
"The Celestial Sound Sect is far from the foot of the mountain—it's not easy to make a trip down. When Outer Sect disciples run errands for the Inner Sect, the Inner Sect maidens usually reward them with small tokens," Xing'er explained. "You can't send them off empty-handed."
"Is this also a rule?" He Qingqing asked.
Ping'er patiently advised: "It's not exactly a rule, but everyone does it. Of course, there's no obligation to reward, but if you need someone to handle tasks in the future, you might still find help—it just won't be done as diligently. If someone has ten parts of effort, they might only give eight, and we can't really fault them for that, can we? Similarly, when gathering information, one can inquire superficially or dig deep—there's a big difference between merely completing a task and putting your heart into it!"
He Qingqing listened quietly, nodding slowly in understanding.
"How much does everyone usually give?" she asked."The amount varies depending on status, family background, and cultivation level. Among all the fairies in our sect, Fairy Miaoyan is the most generous."
He Qingqing was somewhat curious: "How much does Senior Sister Miaoyan reward each time?"
The fact that she and Miaoyan addressed each other as "senior sister" was considered a peculiar phenomenon in the Celestial Sound Sect.
"Fairy Miao rewards eighty-eight spirit stones each time—a very auspicious number."
He Qingqing was startled: "Ah? That much?"
Though she came from a wealthy background—gifts from her master—she always felt pained to spend it.
Ping'er advised: "Senior Sister, you represent the face of our Lotus Peak. You mustn't be stingy. Why not reward ninety-nine stones from now on? 'Nine nines return to one'—it's a better omen and would surpass Fairy Miaoyan. What do you think?"
"Well... alright." He Qingqing hesitated briefly before finally nodding.
Xing'er clapped her hands: "Once the disciples learn of Senior Sister's generosity, they'll compete to run errands or deliver messages for you. Your reputation will surely grow higher and higher."
Nine nines return to one—ninety-nine.
He Qingqing counted out a bag of spirit stones: "Give this to him."
The excited glow on her face had faded, replaced by faint weariness in her eyes, but hidden behind her veil, no one could see.
"All of you may leave now. I wish to be alone for a while."
The two maids acknowledged and respectfully withdrew.
Once they exited the palace, they exchanged glances and smiled, all traces of respect vanishing.
Xing'er took out one spirit stone and tossed it to the Outer Sect disciple who had run the errand: "Senior Sister rewards you! Now hurry off!"
The remaining ninety-eight stones they divided between themselves, laughing as they did:
"She's so easily fooled. Anything can be accomplished as long as we add eight words: 'It's all according to rules' or 'It's for your own good'!"
"Seeing how fierce she was during the Music Examination at the Grand Audience Assembly, I thought she'd be difficult to serve. But she responds to softness rather than force—treat her kindly and comply with her, and we can control her completely."
"She got lucky becoming Senior Sister—her cultivation isn't even as high as mine. How can such a cheap thing happen in this world? I heard Senior Sister Liaohua and the others are looking for chances to trouble her. We can enjoy the show too."
The Celestial Sound Sect had long been divided between the Jiangyun and Wangshu factions. After accepting a personal disciple, Jiangyun hadn't taught her for a single day before hastily departing on a long journey.
This disciple came from a lowly background, had weak cultivation, and was as ugly as a ghost, yet she shone brilliantly at the Grand Audience Assembly solely through one piece—the "Wind and Snow Array Entry Tune."
The composition wasn't extremely difficult; some said Fairy Miaoyan played it better, and He Qingqing was merely lucky to have obtained it first.
What is gained by luck will be lost through lack of skill. Others speculated that Jiangyun had impulsively taken a disciple and already regretted it, but having no excuse to retract, chose to avoid her instead.
Where He Qingqing couldn't see, these rumors spread wings and flew throughout the Celestial Sound Sect.
Ping'er and Xing'er had only chatted briefly, but it drew others to gather, covering their mouths with peculiar smiles as the conversation quickly shifted direction.
"She even asks about that Senior Brother Song, renowned in both chess and calligraphy. Truly daydreaming."
"If you're going to dream, dream bigger! I'd choose Ziye Wenshu. He's so handsome!"
"I've heard Senior Brother Song is good-looking too, but who has actually seen him?"
"Song Qianji has a famous reputation, but few have seen him in person, and even fewer have dealt with him..."
The Outer Sect disciple who ran errands hadn't gone far, and no one cared whether he stayed or left.
He silently clenched his fist—the spirit stone, angular and sharp, dug painfully into his palm.
...
He Qingqing leaned against the railing alone.
The night was vast and boundless, scattered stars like flecks of flying snow.Though it was clearly early summer, she felt threads of chill seeping into her bones with the night breeze.
She resided in the Glazed Palace of Lotus Peak, a dwelling of exquisite beauty adorned with gold and jade, where white curtains fluttered—a perfect embodiment of the Celestial Sound Sect's architectural elegance.
The rules of this great sect formed a spiderweb that often left her breathless.
She consoled herself that she simply wasn't accustomed to it yet. She had wanted to live like a human being, and now she had achieved it. The Celestial Sound Sect had given her so much—one shouldn't be ungrateful.
Every disciple would bow to her, and even if she lifted her veil, no one would scream at her like she was a monster.
Here, no matter what people truly thought, they never let it show, always smiling, their entire demeanor radiating one word: propriety.
He Qingqing even suspected that if they encountered a real ghost, they would maintain that same expression.
After gazing at the stars for a while, she felt that even the stars wouldn't care to listen to the thoughts in her heart.
He Qingqing returned to her desk, laid out paper and brush, and wrote:
"Senior Brother Song, everyone here treats me kindly, but I'm still not accustomed to it. They smile, yet feel so distant. You said my master has an extreme temperament—I don't know whether becoming her disciple is a blessing or a curse. I cannot predict fate either; I only know my master means well.
"She said my face can't wait any longer and has hastily embarked on a journey to seek the 'Miraculous Hand Divine Monk' who roams the world. If a master can perform divine arts, perhaps withered wood may bloom again, restoring my appearance.
"If heaven favors me and I'm truly healed, I wish to descend the mountain to visit you in Thousand-Ditch Prefecture. I'll just take one look and leave—I promise not to delay your important work..."
After writing, He Qingqing silently reread the letter, exhaled deeply, satisfied, and tossed it into the lantern.
Long flames leaped within the silk lantern, devouring the ink-stained paper.
The ashes scattered with the wind, vanishing without a trace in moments.
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