The moonlight dipped behind Mount Hua Wei, and the light at the entrance of Song Courtyard suddenly dimmed.
Meng Heze’s story had reached a pause, but the young Outer Sect disciples were still eager for more.
"Senior Brother Meng, after Senior Brother Song repaired the canals so everyone could have water, what happened next?"
A few lantern lights drifted over from nearby, and a cold shout abruptly shattered the cheerful atmosphere.
"What’s this gathering for? Not returning at this late hour—do you not have work tomorrow morning?"
Three or four Deacons approached, stopping ten zhang away, eyeing Meng Heze warily. "Brother Meng, you are no longer a disciple of Hua Wei. Why do you linger here?"
Meng Heze’s smile faded as he stood up, holding his sword. The autumn night breeze whipped his robes, but he stood as straight and firm as a pine tree.
The Deacons stepped back, and one of them turned and ran, as if to report to the Chief Steward.
The young disciples watched with admiration. Only someone who had achieved fame in youth and commanded respect with a single call could possess such a sharp and intimidating aura.
"Farewell," Meng Heze said with a light laugh.
"Senior Brother Meng, will you come back to see us again?"
The crowd gazed at him with reluctance, and someone gently tugged at his sleeve.
Meng Heze didn’t answer directly, only whispering, "If there comes a day when it feels unbearable, come find me in Thousand Canals. I’ll persuade Senior Brother Song to take you in."
Only after Meng Heze had walked far away did one of the Deacons step forward to warn them:
"When you ascended the mountain, you knew that deserting or fleeing without permission is a betrayal of the sect. If the sect wishes to pursue it, they can issue an extermination order, leaving you no peace anywhere under heaven…"
He suddenly trailed off. He noticed the change in their eyes—like young beasts baring their claws.
...
"I promised you I wouldn’t cry again. Senior Brother Song, I’m sorry." He Qingqing’s eyes were slightly red.
Song Qianji smiled helplessly. Every time someone cries, I end up apologizing, but this time someone beat me to it. Truly, the student surpasses the master.
He Qingqing hastily wiped her tears with her sleeve, which slipped down, revealing a flash of red light.
When emotions ran high, the red jade Buddhist beads were more prone to glowing.
A sense of déjà vu struck Song Qianji, and he immediately sat up straight, grabbing her wrist. "Where did you get this?!"
Startled, He Qingqing removed the crimson spirit jade prayer beads. "It was from Wu Xiang. He altered my appearance and gave this to me."
Song Qianji touched the beads, his heart trembling slightly. "It’s him."
The same carving style, the same magical artifact—Meng Heze’s Buddhist beads had also come from that Wu Xiang.
Wu Xiang was known for his compassion among the righteous immortal sects. In his previous life, he’d spouted grand principles like "sweeping the floor to spare the lives of ants," but Song Qianji hadn’t paid any heed. In this life, after taking up farming, he’d wanted to meet him but never had the chance.
"Have you seen that person again? Do you know where he went?"
He Qingqing shook her head. "The master’s whereabouts are unpredictable. If he hadn’t appeared voluntarily this time, even my master wouldn’t have been able to find him."
Song Qianji’s expression turned serious. "It’s human nature to seek speed and strength in cultivation, but haste makes waste. This item carries a hint of malevolence. If you obtain a matching cultivation method, wait until your mind is stable before practicing it. It’s best to wait until after reaching the Nascent Soul stage."
He rarely spoke with such gravity, so He Qingqing knew it was of great importance. "I promise you, Senior Brother Song."
Song Qianji smiled. "Zhou Xiaoyun and Ji Xing are around your age, both young girls. Go and spend time with them."Only after speaking did he remember that He Qingqing was no longer the same as before. The Celestial Sound Sect had plenty of people to accompany her for amusement, and there was no need for him to make arrangements.
But He Qingqing obediently agreed, "Alright, Senior Brother Song."
After the guests bid farewell, Song Courtyard returned to tranquility.
Song Qianji leaned back alone in his reclining chair, his expression gradually darkening.
In his past life, there was no such person or face as He Qingqing. Among the young cultivators of the Celestial Sound Sect, only Miaoyan stood out.
Not only He Qingqing, but the fates of Meng Heze, Ji Chen, and countless others in Thousand-Ditch Prefecture had quietly changed. By now, he could no longer predict the future.
What did Wu Xiang intend to do? Was Meng Heze becoming the Lord of the heretical path in his past life truly accidental? Where was Wei Zhenyu, the savior, at this moment?
The autumn wind grew abruptly cold, stirring Song Qianji's loosely flowing black hair. Strands drifted before his eyes, blurring his vision for a moment.
He felt as if he were floating on the Dead Sea, watching the undulating glaciers and the bewildering night fog.
The experiences of his past life and the River of Time he had witnessed in the dark room were merely ice fragments floating on the surface.
The true iceberg beneath the water was vast and frigid, and he did not know when it would break through the surface.
...
The Thousand Canals plain stretched endlessly under the night sky, which arched like a canopy over the wilderness. The Milky Way cascaded like a rainbow into the horizon.
The river workers had long since finished their shifts and rested. The riverbanks were serene in the night, with only the howling autumn wind.
"This place is open with a clear view. The moon here is bigger than at Huawel Sect and feels closer to people," Zhou Xiaoyun asked, "Which moon do you like the most?"
The three girls sat side by side on a tree branch, gazing at the moon. It was a rare, lush tree within ten miles.
Because Zhou Xiaoyun and Ji Xing were swinging their legs in sync, the branch swayed, forcing He Qingqing to sway along.
This experience was entirely novel to her.
Ji Xing looked up, "I like the moon from the first night I came to Thousand Canals, when my brother chased your boat by ship, and the moon ran alongside us all the way."
When will the bright moon appear?
In a lifetime of countless upward glances, only a few nights of moonlight are truly remembered.
"What about you, Miss He?" Zhou Xiaoyun asked.
He Qingqing thought for a moment, "It should be... back at Huawel Sect."
She suddenly recalled Chen Hongzhu's fluttering red skirt.
They had, after all, shared the moonlight outside Song Courtyard and felt the warm spring night breeze together.
Hearing that the other had already achieved core condensation, He Qingqing lowered her eyelids. It doesn't matter, I will catch up. Sooner or later, I will become stronger than her.
Ji Xing clapped her hands, "I know! It must be the night you won first place in the Music Examination, when the moonlight was like a veil, dreamy and illusory, right?"
He Qingqing did not explain, only smiled, "The moon was very cold that night."
"No matter how cold, it's all in the past now. Everyone praises you; you've truly been reborn."
He Qingqing shook her head, "Sometimes when people praise you, it's not because they genuinely think you're good, but because it benefits them to do so. Mockery and criticism are forms of control, but praise and admiration also require caution."
She thought, Song Qianji would never use any means to set standards or control others, which is why the girls in Thousand-Ditch Prefecture didn't understand such things.
These two were unlike some female cultivators in the Celestial Sound Sect who constantly talked about sisterhood. But Zhou Xiaoyun, with her cheerful and straightforward nature, was like an older sister, while Ji Xing, innocent and youthful, was more like a younger sister.
Female cultivators taking care of and helping each other should be just like them. For a moment, He Qingqing felt a twinge of envy.Ji Xing pouted, "That sounds exhausting. Being a cultivator is already tiring enough—do I really need to be constantly vigilant too? I must have been born into the wrong life. I don’t like cultivation; I should’ve been a mortal."
"Mortals are the ones who always dream of cultivating immortality—you’re just taking your blessings for granted!" Zhou Xiaoyun scolded with a laugh. "I’ve figured it out—you’re just like your brother."
Ji Xing suddenly raised her voice, "Why can’t we choose for ourselves? If one day, mortals could live peaceful, happy lives without being bullied, that’s when Thousand Canals would truly become the Thousand Canals I want."
He Qingqing merely smiled without replying. Her lotus-like face glowed softly in the moonlight.
Ji Xing was momentarily dazzled by her beautiful smile. "Will you stay, Miss He? Then we could play together every day. I heard Senior Brother Song say recently that he plans to hire a chief steward to handle all the trivial matters besides farming—preferably a cultivator..."
Zhou Xiaoyun lightly chided, "Miss He is the head disciple of the Celestial Sound Sect! How could she come to Thousand Canals to manage mundane affairs?"
"I won’t be staying," He Qingqing said calmly.
Watching the moon was pleasant, eating snacks was enjoyable, and having sisters and friends was wonderful—but these things alone weren’t enough.
Thousand Canals couldn’t give her what she truly desired.
...
When Meng Heze returned to Thousand Canals, the streets of Tiancheng were carpeted with yellow leaves.
The Celestial Sound Sect’s treasure ship had departed not long ago, leaving behind only the beautiful legend of the Celestial Sound Fairy.
Meng Heze listened in confusion all along the way until he finally reached the Immortal Official Manor, where he saw a winding line stretching from the entrance all the way to the end of the street.
Xu Kanshan and Qiu Dacheng were busy maintaining order and registering names.
"I only went to Huawel Sect for a short time—how did everything here turn upside down? What’s all this?" Meng Heze asked.
Xu Kanshan replied, "Senior Brother Song is recruiting a steward."
Qiu Dacheng added, "The requirements are complicated. Must be above Qi Refining Stage but below Golden Core, with mediocre ambitions, patience, attention to detail, and preferably knowledge of farming. But Senior Brother Song’s reputation spreads far and wide—Rogue Cultivators from other counties have all come to apply. We’ve been so busy we haven’t stopped all morning!"
Meng Heze pointed at himself. "What about me? Why seek far and wide when the answer is right here?"
Xu Kanshan patted his shoulder. "This is Senior Brother Song’s decision. You have the hunting team to manage, and Ji Chen needs to repair the Thousand Canal Protection Array. Don’t waste your talents on trivial tasks."
Just as Meng Heze was about to say more, faint sobbing sounds drifted over with the autumn wind from nearby.
Xu and Qiu paid no attention, but Meng Heze’s sharp senses caught it. Curious, he walked toward the end of the line.
About a dozen people at the rear of the line were covering their faces as they quickly dispersed.
Meng Heze stopped one retreating Rogue Cultivator. "Fellow cultivator, you’ve waited in line so long—aren’t you going to apply?"
The cultivator shook his head bitterly. "Fellow cultivator, I did want to try, but look at that young man!"
Following his pointing finger, Meng Heze saw a shabbily dressed young cultivator in coarse clothes and straw sandals chatting with others in the line.
"What about him?"
"I was just making casual conversation to pass the time in line. But do you know? That fellow has suffered greatly—lost his entire family at a young age. Just after taking a master, his master was killed by his junior disciple. Just after betrothing a dao companion, his intended ran off with his senior brother.
"He fled alone to Thousand Canals. No one in this world has suffered more than him. He desperately wants to enter Song Courtyard, desperately wants to meet Senior Brother Song. After hearing his story, I simply couldn’t bear to compete against him!"
The cultivator wiped his tears and strode away.
Even as they spoke, the destitute young cultivator had reduced the line further by reducing three more applicants to tears through his conversations.Meng Heze was astonished: "How could there be such a pitiful soul in this world, burdened with so many hardships?"
He quietly approached, listening intently. The lamenting voice seemed to possess a magical quality—not loud or strained, but narrated with such calmness that it made the suffering even more palpable, tugging at his heartstrings.
"Hey, this is a selection process, not a misery competition!" Meng Heze grabbed the man by the shoulder. "What's your name?"
The young cultivator allowed himself to be pulled, turning around with good-natured patience and offering a slight bow. "My surname is Wei, with the given name Ping. Greetings, fellow Daoist."
"Fellow Daoist Wei Ping, do you know how to cook noodles?" Meng Heze, realizing his rudeness, smoothed out the wrinkles on the other's collar.
This Wei Ping was simply the epitome of wretchedness.
"Cook noodles?" Wei Ping paused briefly, then nodded with a faint smile. "I do know a little."
Meng Heze studied him, finding the man thoroughly unremarkable—plain in appearance, unassuming in demeanor, with a restrained aura, yet somehow pleasing to the eye.
"Knowing just a little is fine, you can learn. For now, come inside with me. Don't linger here chatting and making people cry." Meng Heze muttered under his breath, "What's the point of a crowd weeping at the entrance of the Immortal Official Manor? Those who understand might think it's out of sympathy and emotion, but those who don't would assume they're mourning Song Xian Guan's funeral."
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