Ji Chen had once been a fool. He knew exactly how it felt—the bitterness of pouring his heart into studying yet achieving nothing, being flattered to his face but mocked behind his back.
Some people, once they rise from adversity, become even more ruthless in bullying others. But Ji Chen wasn’t like that. No matter his own circumstances, he had no desire to torment another fool.
Seeing Wei Ping’s unremarkable appearance, mediocre cultivation, and dazed demeanor, Ji Chen took the initiative to advise Meng Heze:
“Hold your tongue for now.”
“Greetings, Fellow Daoist Wei. I am Ji Chen, a Formation Master from Song Courtyard. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” Ji Chen stepped forward and bowed.
“Oh, hello, hello,” Wei Ping replied absentmindedly, then continued, “There’s a path, truly, there’s a path.”
Ji Chen thought he was referring to the village dirt road: “The path was always here. Can’t you see it?”
Wei Ping chuckled, “Me? I only truly saw it today.”
Frustrated, Ji Chen turned and nudged Meng Heze with his elbow, signaling with his eyes, “Maybe we should just let it go.”
Meng Heze spun his sword hilt angrily and snapped, “Wei Ping!”
Wei Ping jolted awake as if noticing the two for the first time, “Are you here to thresh grain too? On behalf of the whole village, I welcome you, Senior Brothers.”
“Who’s your senior brother? Stop pretending to be mad! I’ll tear off your fake mask!” Meng Heze’s sword hilt trembled, releasing a surge of sword energy.
“Ah, Senior Brother, what are you doing?” Wei Ping arched backward, the sword energy grazing the tip of his nose and striking a grain stack as tall as a person behind him.
The grain stack exploded, scattering like flowing gold across the ground.
Ji Chen hurriedly intervened, “Brother Meng, stop!”
But Meng Heze had already drawn his sword, “He’s only at the Qi Refining Stage. How could he dodge my sword energy? He’s definitely up to something—watch closely!”
The sword gleamed with the evening glow as haystacks burst apart, sending straw flying and covering all three in debris.
Wei Ping flailed clumsily, his movements awkward, yet he slipped away like a slippery fish, narrowly avoiding each strike.
Meng Heze’s eyes turned crimson, “Wei Ping, if you’re a man, fight back!”
Ji Chen darted left and right, trying to stop Meng Heze from harming Wei Ping while avoiding getting hit himself.
Wei Ping’s clothes were torn, his chest exposed, “If Senior Brother wants to hit me, of course I wouldn’t dare fight back. Wow, that sword strike was impressive! Who taught you such fierce swordsmanship?”
“Ah!” A cry of alarm suddenly rang out.
Liu the Carpenter stood there distraught, “It’s ruined! The grain for people and the hay for cattle are all mixed together!”
The ground was a mess. The three young men froze, looking down and fidgeting awkwardly.
Ji Chen was the first to offer an apologetic smile, “Minister of Agriculture, Brother Liu, Old Brother Liu, we didn’t mean it. We’ll sort it out right away. Cultivators work fast—it’s a small problem.”
Wei Ping added, “It’s my fault. I don’t know how I…”
He glanced at Meng Heze, only to see the latter already scowling as he picked up a broom and dustpan, ready to make amends through labor. Wei Ping’s unfinished sentence, “somehow angered Senior Brother,” shifted to, “somehow ended up fighting,” his tone remarkably calm.
And so, the three had no choice but to work together to clean up the mess.
The autumn wind blew cool, stars twinkled brightly, and the moon emerged from the night clouds, watching them sweat profusely and hinder each other’s efforts.
Wei Ping was the most diligent and skilled at farm work. Seeing this, Ji Chen tried to mediate, “Brother Meng, he’s not like what you described.”
Meng Heze grumbled, “He’s just a master at putting on an act to deceive people.”
By the fourth watch of the night, the threshing ground was barely restored to order.
Covered in dust and utterly exhausted, the three collapsed onto a tall haystack, panting like oxes, looking nothing like cultivators.Ji Chen lay between them, trying to prevent a fight from breaking out on either side, and wailed, "I've never done this before! It's my first time. Doesn't this count as sharing hardships together?"
Two voices responded simultaneously from left and right:
"I, Meng Heze, am a seven-foot-tall man who stands firm between heaven and earth. Who would share hardships with that effeminate guy!"
"Senior Brother Meng is such a renowned figure, naturally he wouldn't deign to associate with someone like me."
Wei Ping jumped down from the haystack: "You two rest up. I need to return to Song Courtyard to prepare supper. Supper should always include three types of steamed buns and three kinds of pastries - can't just boil a bowl of noodles to get by."
Meng Heze widened his eyes, his voice trembling slightly:
"How dare he say that? Chen, did you hear that? He's getting arrogant after gaining some advantage, pushing people too far!"
"Yes, yes. Let's not bother with him."
While comforting him verbally, Ji Chen thought to himself: Isn't this just the truth?
...
Wei Ping was diligent and sweet-tongued, always rushing to do the dirtiest and most exhausting work, striving to become a qualified chief steward.
Inspired by the autumn harvest busy season, he created a "foot-operated threshing machine" that was highly praised by Thousand Canals farmers.
While chatting with Liu the Carpenter by the riverbank, they collaborated to build a large waterwheel that utilized water flow to irrigate farmland.
Although he didn't stand out in Meng Heze's hunting team, he never held them back either. Whenever someone made sarcastic remarks about him, he would just smile, making others feel too embarrassed to continue excluding him.
Later, he mixed sixteen different seasonings in specific proportions to create a unique meat marinade, naming it "Thousand Canals Sixteen Spices." Game meat marinated with this blend retained its freshness and juices - when lightly grilled, it became crispy outside and tender inside, with a special rich aroma that could drift for miles downwind.
When hunting teams composed of outer sect disciples saw him, they would remember the delicious roasted meat and couldn't help but feel closer to him.
Besides managing Song Qianji's meals and daily needs, Wei Ping also handled all miscellaneous matters beyond farming for him - agricultural and livestock management, river and road repairs, Tiancheng city planning, building private schools, settling new immigrants, and more.
Whenever matters from various parts of Thousand Canals needed to be brought to Song Xian Guan's attention or decision, they would first be reported to Wei Ping to await response.
Steward Wei smiled at everyone he met, gradually conquering Thousand Canals like spring breeze melting frost - imperceptibly yet thoroughly.
Only Meng Heze remained an unyielding block of ice, stubborn as ever.
As for Zhou Xiaoyun, who had been Meng Heze's most ardent supporter in Huawel Sect's Outer Sect, and Ji Xing, who had frantically campaigned for Meng Heze during the Grand Audience Assembly - they had already begun to view Wei Ping more favorably amid the sweet aromas of pastries, snacks, and desserts.
Zhou Xiaoyun deftly opened the food container while speaking politely:
"Steward Wei, finished with your work? What brings you here today? You really shouldn't have brought lunch - oh, what soup is this?"
Wei Ping presented a small white porcelain bowl: "Red Beauty Flower stewed with snow clams. The ingredients were specially purchased from Hongfu County, and the recipe comes from the Celestial Sound Sect. It helps women nourish their beauty and brighten their skin."
"I haven't had this soup since I left home!" Ji Xing sniffed intensely. "Xiao Ping'er, you're so gentle-tempered and such a good cook. Having you is truly our good fortune!"
Another food container opened to reveal oily lotus-leaf-wrapped roast chicken, crispy fragrant sesame pancakes, and a pot of newly brewed osmanthus wine.
"Ah, I knew Steward Wei wouldn't forget about us!" Xu Kanshan tore off a chicken leg.
Qiu Dacheng beamed with joy: "What fragrant wine! It tastes like that from the Fortune Tavern in Huawel City. Besides gambling dens, taverns are the only places I can find with my eyes closed!"
Wei Ping smiled: "So you two are quite familiar with Huawel City?"
"Of course! Old Xu and I are originally city folk!"They had food and drink, their chatterboxes opened wide, spilling all their family secrets to Wei Ping.
They spoke of meeting Song Qianji during the night trial assembly, of the rescue on the mountain path of Star-Picking Platform, and of the outcome of that astonishingly audacious gambling match.
"In the vast sea of humanity, who knows where that kid who bet ten thousand Spirit Stones is now? Does he even know how much he's ruined us?"
Wei Ping had been listening quietly but suddenly interjected, "Winning the bet was a good thing, wasn't it? Why curse him?"
Qiu Dacheng angrily retorted, "Good my ass! A gambling match with over a hundred thousand participants, and only two winners—how could that possibly be good?"
Xu Kanshan sneered, "We've offended everyone! Every gambling den in all of Hua Wei City has barred us from entry. Anyone who participated in that gambling match refuses to play with us anymore! Not only have we lost all joy in life, but our sect even branded us with the crime of 'colluding with Song,' forcing us to flee for our lives overnight. Fortunately, Senior Brother Song took us in! Ah, forget it, no use talking about it anymore."
"So that's how it is." Wei Ping showed a sympathetic expression. "That betting kid is truly despicable. He's irresponsible, completely inhuman. Here, have a pancake."
"If I ever run into him again—" Xu Kanshan viciously bit into a pancake, chewing furiously.
Steward Wei, ever understanding, said, "We'll beat him up together."
Qiu Dacheng tore into a roast chicken: "Mm, good brother!"
...
Whenever mealtime came around, Wei Ping would always be at Song Courtyard arranging dishes for Song Qianji. Meng Heze, feeling uneasy, often brought Ji Chen along to join Song Qianji for meals, claiming it was to test for poison.
The four of them sat together at the table, with Meng and Wei engaging in subtle, pointed conflicts beneath the surface. Outwardly, Ji Chen remained carefree and oblivious, while Song Qianji failed to grasp the intricate and delicate atmosphere. While eating, he even remarked how the three of them seemed like brothers.
When the plates and bowls were empty, they were replaced with soup and broth, the milky-white broth served in jade bowls.
Song Qianji took a sip, savoring the flavor, and murmured, "The soup lately hasn't been right."
Meng Heze slammed the table and flared up, grabbing Wei Ping by the collar. "What tricks are you playing?"
Wei Ping grinned and let himself be grabbed. "I've added three types of Spirit Herbs to the soup lately. Try it, Master Song—isn't it sweeter and more flavorful than usual, with a lingering aftertaste on the tongue?"
"Xiao Meng, let go." Song Qianji set down his spoon.
Meng Heze reluctantly released his grip. "Sorry."
Song Qianji said, "Wei Ping, you have no sect or family backing you. Gathering Spirit Herbs isn't easy for you—how can you waste them like this?"
"For Teacher..." Wei Ping, noticing Meng Heze's expression, corrected himself, "For you to eat, how could it be a waste? They're more than willing."
"Don't add them anymore. I don't need them." Song Qianji refused.
Spirit Herbs must be refined into elixirs to maximize their medicinal properties. Using them directly in cooking for nutritional supplements is too extravagant—only wealthy, high-level cultivators can afford to do such a thing.
Song Qianji, possessing the Fountain of Immortality, had his meridians nourished day and night. Ordinary Spirit Herbs were as useless to him as chicken ribs.
Wei Ping nodded dejectedly.
Song Qianji said, "I have some instructions for Xiao Meng."
Wei Ping, ever understanding, excused himself. "I'll go wash the dishes."
Meng Heze's eyes lit up, and he lifted his head like a victorious rooster. "Go on, then!"
As soon as Wei Ping left the room, Meng Heze eagerly asked, "What important matters do you have to instruct me on, Senior Brother? Now that we've sent that Wei fellow away, just give me your orders."
Song Qianji said, "The weather has been good lately. Pack your things and prepare to leave Thousand Canals for a while."
"What?" The smile on Meng Heze's face instantly froze, his expression turning ashen. "You're kicking me out? You trust Wei Ping more than you trust me?!"
Song Qianji couldn't understand. "What does this have to do with Wei Ping?"Meng Heze’s eyes reddened: "How is it unrelated? It must be him complaining to you, whispering in your ear during the night breeze, right?!"
"Senior Brother Meng, don’t be upset," Ji Chen quickly patted his back, as if soothing an enraged lion.
What kind of wind was the "night breeze"?
Song Qianji was caught between laughter and tears: "That’s not the case. I think it’s time for you to attempt forming your Golden Core. Before secluding yourself for a breakthrough, traveling to broaden your horizons will benefit your future. You’ve also said you wanted to see the magnificent landscapes and journey across the Cultivation World, yet you’ve been cooped up in the Huawel Sect and Thousand-Ditch Prefecture."
Compared to the Lord of the heretical path in his past life, who had weathered countless storms, Meng Heze’s experiences in this life were like a fish swimming in shallow waters. Though he had defended villages against fierce beasts at the edge of the Poison Mire Forest, honing his combat skills, he had yet to be tempered by the hardships of the world and still retained a trace of youthful naivety.
Meng Heze lowered his head: "Senior Brother, your intentions are deeply thoughtful."
"On this journey down the mountain, you have three tasks to accomplish," Song Qianji said.
Meng Heze eagerly answered first: "I will surely bring glory to our Thousand Canals, our hunting team, and our Song Courtyard!"
"No. Broaden your horizons, give your sword a good name, and bring your entire family to Thousand Canals."
Though the trajectory of fate had changed, with the reappearance of the red jade prayer beads, Song Qianji still remembered the tragedy of Meng Heze’s family being wiped out in his past life.
"...Ah, I didn’t guess any of them right," Meng Heze scratched his head, then laughed, "It’s perfect—I’ve been missing my parents too. Before, I was always afraid I couldn’t return home in glory, so I didn’t dare visit."
"The Cultivation World is fraught with turmoil and fickle human relationships, unlike the Huawel Sect and Thousand-Ditch Prefecture. I have three more pieces of advice for you," Song Qianji took a sip of chrysanthemum tea.
"Please speak, Senior Brother."
"First, your red jade prayer beads are a supreme treasure, perfect for healing and preserving your life, but do not use them for attack."
Meng Heze replied without hesitation: "I understand!"
"Second, I know you are a Sword Cultivator, but do not underestimate Evasion Arts. The Five Elements Evasion I taught you still requires diligent practice."
In his past life, Song Qianji was adept at escaping danger, having created Evasion Arts so masterfully that he narrowly escaped death multiple times—only failing the last time.
Meng Heze: "I will keep it in mind!"
After arriving in Thousand-Ditch Prefecture, Meng Heze had grown taller rapidly, his features shedding their youthful softness.
Sometimes, looking at his face, Song Qianji gradually saw glimpses of the familiar figure from his past life.
"Third, once you enter the mortal world, grudges and enmities are hard to avoid. When you draw your sword, leave room for mercy. Do not actively seek conflict with others. If misunderstandings arise, resolve them promptly. But if you encounter someone who is determined to kill you—"
Hearing his calm tone, Meng Heze thought of how benevolent Senior Brother Song was—he wouldn’t even step on earthworms after a rain—and quickly answered:
"Repay evil with virtue! I won’t kill them; I’ll enlighten them!"
He said this, hoping to leave Song Qianji happy and at ease.
Song Qianji felt his vision darken: "No, of course you kill them! If you can’t kill them, send word to me, and I’ll kill them for you!"
Meng Heze was stunned: "Huh?"
Song Qianji, afraid he hadn’t taken it seriously, pressed: "Did you hear me? Repeat it!"
Meng Heze: "Send word to you, and you’ll kill them for me..."
He couldn’t finish and changed his words: "I stand upright and walk the righteous path, honest and aboveboard. If Heaven has eyes, it should stand by my side."
Would Senior Brother really kill someone?
He had only seen Wei Ping kill chickens, boil water, and pluck feathers, splattering blood everywhere. Since rescuing him from Broken Mountain Cliff, Song Qianji had never held a sword, never practiced swordsmanship, and hadn’t even killed a single chicken.
Song Qianji shook his head: "Heaven has no eyes. Do not entrust your life to luck.""Why should the Way of Heaven stand with you? Because you're good-looking? You're not Wei Zhenyu."
Ji Chen's expression shifted slightly: "Brother Meng, just agree, don't let Brother Song worry."
The miserable state of Zhao Ren flashed before his eyes.
Fellow Daoist Zhao, it's a pity you left too soon. Brother Meng hasn't seen how Brother Song operates, that's why he dares not agree.
When will you return? I've practiced new formations, haven't tried them on living people yet, miss you.
Meng Heze: "I agree."
Song Qianji softly hummed in acknowledgment: "Good. You may go."
Meng Heze put down his sword and bowed.
Ji Chen: "Brother Meng, I'll see you out."
Song Qianji sat in his reclining chair, watching the two walk out shoulder to shoulder, his eyes filled with laughter.
It was the transition between autumn and winter, when the wutong leaves fall.
Meng Heze had to admit that with Wei Ping managing the Immortal Official Manor, it was more orderly and presentable than when they first arrived.
Meng Heze: "When I was in the Huawel Sect's Outer Sect, I loved saying two phrases the most, Zhou Xiaoyun and the others were sick of hearing them!"
"Which two phrases?" Ji Chen asked curiously.
Meng Heze feigned anger and shouted loudly: "Don't bully the young for being poor! My fate is determined by me, not by Heaven!"
His voice echoed through the Immortal Official Manor.
Ji Chen clapped his hands: "Haha, well said, that sounds just like you."
Meng Heze smiled faintly: "Thinking about it now, the first phrase isn't entirely right. When you're young and poor, if some Deacon glares at you, you feel like the whole world is bullying you and working against you. Actually, the world doesn't care about you at all. The second phrase isn't entirely right either—" He looked back at Song Courtyard, where fallen leaves danced before the vermilion gate, yet it didn't appear desolate, only a brilliant golden yellow.
"Fortune has its measure, cannot be forced, Heaven doesn't depend on me; the Way has its path, this heart is bright, I don't depend on Heaven!"
Ji Chen was astonished: "This heart is bright, I don't depend on Heaven..."
Meng Heze had already thrown an arm over his shoulder, speaking quickly in a low voice: "I'm leaving, take good care of Senior Brother Song, keep an eye on Wei Ping. The formations of Song Courtyard, Sky City, and Thousand Canals must never be handed over to that fellow."
"Alright!" Ji Chen felt the weight of responsibility deeply, overnight he had become the pillar of the household: "How long will you be gone?"
Meng Heze looked back with a smile: "Of course I'm worried about Thousand Canals. When it snows, you'll see me."
...
When the first snow fell, Thousand-Ditch Prefecture already had one hundred fifty thousand households. The Hongfu merchant caravans came and went with mules and horses, merchants settled in Sky City's streets, bringing silk, cotton, porcelain, and jewelry, hanging their signs and lighting lanterns as the market gradually took shape.
Thousands of households decorated with lanterns and colors, yet Meng Heze still hadn't returned home.
Wei Ping described the future prospects of Thousand Canals to the Hongfu merchants, rented out shops and stalls in Thousand Canals, and organized Thousand Canals merchant caravans to regularly travel to Hongfu, bringing secret-recipe seasonings, incense, alcohol, and other goods to increase trade between the two prefectures.
He was like a diligent hamster, wanting to store up winter provisions before the cold season arrived.
Song Qianji advised him: "You don't need to work so hard."
"I don't feel burdened, Master Song. Today when I walked on the street and saw the people of Thousand-Ditch Prefecture also wearing new cotton clothes, standing together with Hongfu people, almost indistinguishable, I felt happy."
Due to recent busyness, only six of the nine-grid garden in Song Courtyard were edible.
Today Wei Ping finally had some free time. He brought out the warming pot and charcoal fire, chopped and washed ingredients, preparing to properly cook a hot pot meal.
He had almost forgotten how he lived before coming to Song Courtyard.The fleeting glamour dissipated like ink dissolving in water, fading away amidst the daily necessities of life.
In Song Courtyard, plants withered while the white jade plum blossoms stood alone, their petals dusted with light snow, a subtle fragrance drifting through the air.
On the stone table, a thin layer of snowflakes scattered like spilled salt.
Wei Ping set down the charcoal brazier and suddenly halted, his eyes stung as if pierced by something.
A crimson leaf appeared beside the stone table. Amidst the vast expanse of white snow, it resembled a glaring pool of blood.
There were no maple trees in Song Courtyard—in fact, no red leaves existed anywhere in Tiancheng.
The distance from the kitchen to the stone table was only twenty-six zhang, yet this leaf had appeared as if by magic. He had sensed nothing.
Wei Ping picked up the red leaf and jolted awake, turning to scan his surroundings.
The courtyard was empty. A chill spread from his fingertips through his entire body, rattling his teeth.
The matter he had nearly forgotten had finally resurfaced—the true purpose of his coming to Thousand Canals: "The assassination pact, marked by a red leaf."
"What's wrong?" a calm voice inquired.
Wei Ping turned to see Song Qianji draped in a black fox fur cloak, stepping through the vermilion gate and standing amidst the fluttering light snow.
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