In the midsummer of Thousand Canals, the scorching sun blazed fiercely, with waves of heat rolling through the air.
After sunset, the sweltering heat gradually receded. The villagers, having finished their arduous labor, gathered around the ancient well to cool off.
The wind rustled through the haystacks as countless stars lit up the sky. Elderly men sat on wooden stools smoking dry tobacco, children ran around in groups, and women laughed while waving their fans.
Since the village had enough to eat, each day now held rare moments of relaxation and joy.
Everyone crowded around Liu the Carpenter and his family, asking various questions about the new Minister of Agriculture. Exclamations of amazement rose intermittently from the crowd.
"Can’t the Immortal Official use magic to make it rain? Why do we still have to wait?"
In the past, representatives of wealthy gentry often accompanied the Immortal Official, but now Liu the Carpenter interacted the most with those "Immortal Masters and Fairies."
Liu Er pondered briefly: "Immortal Officials aren’t all-powerful. In truth, cultivators have limited magical power—there are things they cannot do. If their spiritual energy is exhausted, they become just like us. Some are even thinner and weaker than we are."
This explanation struck the mortals, who naturally held cultivators in awe, as both novel and unsettling.
The village chief worried: "Did Song Xian Guan exhaust his power by diverting the water? How will he manage in the future? You said earlier that he’s still very young."
Xiao Hu timidly asked: "When the Immortal Official uses up his power, does he have to return to the heavens?"
Liu Er patted his head reassuringly: "The Immortal Official won’t leave. Just as strength returns after being spent, so does magical power. We just need to wait."
Wait—again, they must wait.
Inviting deities through ritual dances and kowtowing was called "pleading."
But when an agreement exists, and the other party is certain to come, something with hope and expectation is called "waiting."
Liu the Carpenter gazed at the sky, his expression puzzled: "I don’t understand why Song Xian Guan is waiting for rain, but there must be a reason for it."
"Then let’s wait with him," the village chief declared loudly. "From now on, every night at the hour of Si, anyone free should come out and gather here to wait together!"
"Agreed!"
Not just in Xiaolan Village, but from south to north, from the borders of the Poisonous Miasma Forest to beyond the Great Barren Marsh, every household in Thousand Canals stepped out each evening, guiding the young and supporting the elderly, gathering in open spaces to wait together.
Under the deep night sky, sometimes overcast with dense clouds, sometimes filled with brilliant stars, if no rain fell within two hours, they would disperse, only to gather again the following night.
News continuously spread from the Heavenly City: "Song Xian Guan is still waiting tonight—he hasn’t given up yet."
…
During the day, dust swirled along both banks of the river channel as work continued fervently.
After the successful water diversion in the earlier canals, farmers from neighboring villages voluntarily came to assist.
The summer heat steamed, and the blazing sun was too bright to behold. Without spiritual energy protection, the mortals sweated profusely, their bare backs roasted red and peeling under the intense heat.
Although Outer Sect disciples practicing ice-attribute cultivation methods helped by using their powers to cool the area, their limited cultivation made the effect minimal. Instead, the river workers comforted them:
"Immortal Masters, don’t trouble yourselves! In the hottest times before, we still harvested wheat in the fields. Save your energy!"
That day, Ji Chen forcibly dragged Meng Heze to the riverbank to see his younger sister, Ji Xing.
But it was his first time witnessing such a large-scale construction scene, and he was utterly captivated, curious about everything.
"The sun grows fiercer each day. Even with good food, ample grain, and meat, people can’t keep working like this much longer," Ji Chen remarked, squinting at the sun.
Ji Xing replied: "Not at all. I see everyone is full of drive."
"If this section is completed a day earlier, the floodgates at Hongfu can reopen sooner," Xu Kanshan explained.
Ji Chen still shook his head. He felt there was something to learn from the reward mechanisms of the "Grand Audience Assembly.""Nothing truly unites people like honor; money alone is never enough. Ever since I won the top rank in the Calligraphy and Painting Examination, everything has been different." He grabbed Meng Heze, slinging an arm over his shoulder. "Brother Meng, you’re the champion of the martial exam—tell me, what’s so great about money? It’s boring, isn’t it? Far better to earn the top rank."
Hah, here we go again?
Meng Heze shot him a cold glance before turning to shout, "Hunting team, follow me! Let’s get to work!"
A crowd of Outer Sect disciples rubbed their hands in anticipation and marched off in high spirits.
Ji Chen refused to give up, yelling after him, "Whoever hunts the best will get a medal from me too—"
Meng Heze turned back, flashed a crude gesture, and silently cursed.
Having spent little time mingling with lower-level cultivators, Ji Chen didn’t understand the gesture and responded with a respectful cupped-fist salute.
Meng Heze was utterly defeated.
The idea was Ji Chen’s, but his handwriting was too messy, so he had to ask Song Qianji to write it.
Song Qianji had always been tolerant of their whimsical ideas. While crafting backup Focusing Light Talismans for the hunting team, he took a break from talisman-drawing to pen eight elegant characters. Ji Chen beamed and thanked him repeatedly.
Song Qianji smiled. "It was nothing, no need for thanks. By the way, Liu Hongshan sent ten carts of silk—take them and put them to use."
"Many thanks to Fellow Daoist Liu." Ji Chen praised sincerely, "He’s such a good man!"
By now, he no longer minded Liu Hongshan’s "coarse tea and strong wine" hospitality. After all, no matter how fine a cultivator’s Magical Artifact was, it was useless to reward mortals with it.
Once the silk arrived, the Chicken-Delivery Team immediately organized an awards ceremony, selecting the most diligent, efficient, and skilled river workers to receive medals and prizes.
Each time Zhou Xiaoyun handed out an iron medal, Ji Xing would say, "Thank you for your contributions to Thousand Canals. Let’s all applaud for you!"
The silk shimmered like sunset clouds, glowing in the sunlight.
Wave after wave of enthusiastic applause followed. Whether they had won awards or not, everyone’s eyes grew moist:
"Such fine Hongfu silk—it must have been reserved for great lords in the past."
"No matter how hard life gets, it’s just our lot—we’ve never been thanked like this before."
After the ceremony, the fourth team took their day off. Captain Li Hu shouldered a fully laden carrying pole, boarded a donkey cart, and returned to his village at dusk, fully loaded.
His wife was overjoyed. "You’re back? You must be hungry—come eat." She took the pole from him and jumped in surprise. "Where did you get so much meat?"
"Not just pork! Never mind eating yet—let me show you something special!" The man mysteriously untied the bundle on his back, hands trembling slightly as he unwrapped it.
The silk gleamed in the fading light from the window, its radiance dazzling, filling the humble room with brilliance.
The woman shuddered, instinctively swallowing. "What is this? It shines like light!"
"Hongfu silk!"
The woman murmured, "This—this is Hongfu silk? It’s smoother than water! My hands are too rough—I’m afraid I’ll ruin it. What kind of great lord must one be to wear fabric like this?"
Her husband took her hand and guided it to touch the silk. "What lords? There are no lords anymore! Tomorrow we’ll ask Tailor Zhang from the next village to make a quilt cover, then new clothes for you and the child."
What woman doesn’t love beautiful colors? The wife caressed the silk over and over, her expression dazed.
Suddenly, her face changed. "Where did you get such fine things?"
Li Hu straightened his back proudly. "Of course it was awarded by the Immortal Official!"The woman muttered with a mix of doubt and hope, "How can such good fortune exist? We all went to work the same job, yet no one else got anything—only you?" Growing anxious, she urged, "Quickly return it! The Immortal Officials are such good people—how could you take their things?"
"It really is my reward!" The man grew equally flustered, pulling an iron plaque from his chest. "See for yourself!"
"I can't read," the woman retorted dismissively. "It's just a dark, heavy lump—who knows what's written on it?"
The man brought over a candleholder to show her. "This is a medal, only two hundred were given out—a truly rare item. It bears eight characters personally inscribed by Song Xian Guan. On the front: 'Pioneer of Canal Digging.' On the back: 'Light Shines Upon Thousand Canals.' Look here—the corner even has the seal of the Immortal Official Manor."
"Ah!" The woman snatched it eagerly, delighted. "Pioneer of Canal Digging? They recognized your merit?!"
"Rewards are given based on achievements—only to the hardest workers! I've already decided: I'll pass this down to our son, then to our grandson, and through generations after. Our descendants will always know their ancestor was the 'Pioneer of Canal Digging' whose light shone upon Thousand Canals."
"Characters written by an Immortal Official?" The woman cradled the iron plaque, examining it back and forth, wiping it repeatedly. "This is truly precious. I wouldn't trade it for more meat or silk, no matter how much anyone offered."
The next day, the township's announcement reached the village. For half a month straight, Li Hu's home was filled with daily visitors—neighbors from nearby villages came admiringly and left green with envy.
"We heard your village produced a Pioneer of Canal Digging—let us have a look!"
"Some people just have talent and capability."
"Huayan Village has one too. As soon as he returned to the village and showed his plaque, a marriage was arranged immediately. The next day, he carried rice and two bolts of silk to the girl's family as a proposal gift. That silk was so glossy and bright—the whole village gathered around to admire it!"
"When will the Immortal Official Manor recruit workers again? After the canals are dug, will they build bridges? Dig mountain paths?"
"If there's a Pioneer of Canal Digging, there should be a Pioneer of Bridge Building too. Only when we earn a plaque that says 'Light Shines Upon Thousand Canals' will we truly bring honor to our ancestors."
The construction team's morale soared to unprecedented heights, and progress accelerated beyond expectations. It seemed everyone had boundless energy and spirit.
Greatly inspired, Ji Chen, brimming with ambition, made an iron plaque for Meng Heze as well and delivered it to the Poison Miasma Forest.
Meng Heze had just slain a first-grade Crimson Flame Serpent and was covered in blood. Leaning against a large tree, he lazily wiped his sword while complaining:
"Young Master Ji, has your brain been kicked by a demon beast? This thing isn't even a Magical Artifact, and it's dead weight—what use do I have carrying it around? To increase my burden and slow me down?"
"This is honor—honor is priceless. Cultivators aren't afraid of a little extra weight."
"'Hunting Master'? These characters are just too... too..."
Words failed him.
Meng Heze's handsome features scrunched up in distaste.
Ji Chen scratched his head. "This one was specially made for you. I didn't want to trouble Brother Song for such a small task. I wrote it myself—just bear with it, alright?"
Meng Heze smacked his forehead and stuck a Miasma Warding Talisman on him. "Bear with you, my foot! The Poison Miasma Forest is no place for you to play around—get out of here!"
Though he scolded, he still tucked the iron plaque into his chest.
Ji Chen added, "You've met my younger sister. About what I mentioned last time regarding her... Hey, Brother Meng, don't leave—let's talk more!"
One chasing, the other fleeing, the birds and beasts in the forest scattered at the sound.
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