Earlier when Ji Chen asked Wei Ping why he seemed distracted, he said he saw a beautiful girl on the street who caught his eye.
So that's when they started following me, Wei Ping thought. I didn't even notice.
This is the second time.
The chair beneath him felt like it had turned into a charcoal brazier, the smoke and heat making him sweat profusely, unbearably uncomfortable.
Wei Ping stood up: "I'm going to check on the kitchen. Brother Ji, please 'entertain' Mr. Song for me."
Ji Chen: "Go ahead without worries! I know how to grill - I'll make sure Brother Song eats his fill!"
"Have you both forgotten something?" Song Qianji raised his hand, spreading five fingers before his eyes. "I have hands of my own."
Ji Chen pounded the table with laughter.
Seeing that Young Master Ji remained oblivious, Wei Ping had no choice but to transmit his voice: "The night market attracts all sorts. Be wary of strangers causing trouble."
Ji Chen asked directly: "We're in a private room. How could anyone disturb us here?"
Wei Ping nodded awkwardly before turning to go downstairs.
The singing voice twisted through several turns - that person was still across the street at the silk shop. Singing tirelessly, clearly intending to summon his "accomplice" for a meeting.
If they planned to strike tonight, they wouldn't reveal their presence so easily and risk alerting anyone.
Whether seeking wealth or fame, attempting to assassinate Song Qianji wasn't a wise choice.
Failure would mean paying with one's life without chance of escape. Success, if traced back, would invite retaliation from Song Qianji's powerful backers.
Wei Ping couldn't think of any assassin besides himself who would dare take such a dangerous job.
He hadn't lied. He did go to the kitchen, did inspect the meat cutting, spice frying, charcoal loading, and dish washing. Most kitchen workers had minor disabilities that made heavy farm work difficult. They were grateful to Steward Wei for giving them jobs at Taiping Ji to support their families.
Feeling somewhat embarrassed by their gratitude, Wei Ping exchanged greetings with the cooks and staff before slipping out through the kitchen's delivery entrance. He quietly circled around to the back of the silk shop and went straight up to the second floor.
...
Downstairs, customers waiting in line sipped free hot tea while enviously watching those whose numbers were called.
Ji Chen laughed: "Brother Wei makes this business look easy. His place is the most popular on this half of the street. Though called 'Taiping Ji,' it could make all those 'Prosperity and Splendor' shops green with envy."
Song Qianji asked: "You think it's easy?"
"Just get meat and ingredients and you're in business. Customers cook for themselves - easy money rolling in daily. How could it not be easy?"
"Then do you know where to source the meat, how much to buy daily to keep it fresh yet sufficient? Which charcoal produces less smoke that won't choke customers? With all the smoke and fire, how to ventilate while keeping warm in winter? What lacquer for tables and floors is both fireproof and damp-proof? Which dishes and bowls look good yet withstand smoke? Developing recipes, training staff, maintaining cleanliness... would you be willing to do all that?"
With each question Song Qianji asked, Ji Chen shook his head until he felt dizzy:
"I wouldn't want to!"
Song Qianji smiled: "The trouble happens behind the scenes. What appears easy to outsiders is only the surface."
Ji Chen suddenly said: "Just like you, Brother Song? Watching you handle things, everything seems effortless, but you must have gone through much hardship."
Song Qianji was taken aback.
Ji Chen scratched his head: "This business would make even more money in Hongfu County. Why doesn't Brother Wei open branches there?"
Song Qianji said: "Thousand Canals Bazaar is newly established. He's doing this to attract more outsiders to Thousand Canals."
Ji Chen exclaimed in admiration while transferring grilled marbled beef to Wei Ping's plate, then suddenly sighed."Sometimes I truly don't understand—Brother Wei is so busy he practically wants to split himself into eight pieces. What does he actually want?"
Song Qianji asked with a laugh: "What do you want?"
"Me? I already have what I want. Every day I do things I enjoy, studying ever-changing formations. Being able to protect my sister, being needed by my brothers—when everyone's happy, I'm happy."
"Don't you want to be the greatest under heaven?" Song Qianji asked.
Ji Chen shook open a satin brocade handkerchief and wiped the seasoning from his lips:
"With Brother Meng competing to be the greatest under heaven, I can be the greatest brother under heaven!"
The snow-white handkerchief stained with crimson chili powder resembled a drop of blood on snow.
Suddenly remembering something, Ji Chen exclaimed excitedly:
"Brother Song, did you see the red leaves I brought today? You won't find these anywhere else in the entire Heavenly City!"
All cultivators of Thousand Canals knew that Song Qianji loved all kinds of crops, whether flowers, plants, trees, rice, corn, or potatoes. Seeds were best, but even if there were no seeds, he'd be delighted to see flowers, leaves, or fruits.
Song Qianji wiped his hands, his expression unchanged:
"I suppose I've seen them. Where did you find them?"
"On my way here, a Hongfu vendor was hawking them—very cheap. Scholars buy them for bookmarks, young ladies wear them in their hair. I knew you'd like them, wanted to surprise you."
"That was thoughtful of you," Song Qianji said.
Ji Chen cheerfully replied: "You're welcome!"
The roasted meat gradually cooled, its fragrance fading, the oily sheen losing its enticing golden hue.
Why wasn't there a formation in this world that could keep food at its freshest state? Ji Chen felt sorry for Wei Ping: "Will he still come back?"
Song Qianji looked out the window.
The streets were brightly lit, filled with noisy chatter.
Yet the snow fell quietly, dense and light, drifting through the beams of light cast by strings of lanterns.
The singing from the building across had ceased, the lantern lights flickering.
"Whether he returns or not is his choice to make," Song Qianji said.
Ji Chen blinked, smiling blankly: "What is there to choose?"
...
The newly opened silk shop had mostly young female customers browsing fabrics on the first floor. The young shop assistants were silver-tongued, praising whatever patterns the customers chose.
The giggling of a group of young girls sounded like a hundred birds heralding spring, quite delightful to hear.
Wei Ping passed through the laughter and chatter, heading straight upstairs.
"Manager Wei, we have a guest tonight who insists on booking the entire second floor," the silk shop manager said with a pained expression. "Would you like to look at the silks on the first floor? If nothing catches your eye, I'll personally deliver a batch of new goods to the Immortal Official Manor tomorrow morning for your selection?"
Wei Ping was in a bad mood and coldly called up the stairs: "Making clothes isn't like eating a meal! I've never heard of booking an entire floor for this!"
The manager offered an apologetic smile when suddenly a voice said: "Let him come up."
The voice drifted down from upstairs, light as swirling snowflakes, carrying a delicate and gorgeous quality, its tone almost like singing.
Hearing this voice up close, Wei Ping's heart sank. Yet his expression remained composed.
Upon reaching the second floor, the sounds of laughter and chatter suddenly faded away. Lamp stands burned quietly, illuminating the brocades hanging high on all sides.
The Hongfu brocades displayed intricate patterns in dazzling colors—clusters of flowers, snow-wave water patterns, peacocks spreading their tails... like scroll paintings hanging vertically.
Wei Ping wound through the numerous fabric racks, summoning his sword from his storage bag.
The peaceful scene downstairs remained visible, while the killing intent upstairs remained imperceptible.
At the end of the fabric racks, that person held scissors, bent over a table cutting brocade.
Behind him hung a massive roll of Hundred-Flower Satin, shimmering brilliantly under the candlelight, making him appear as if seated deep within blooming flowers.Without using a ruler or drawing lines, with a swift tearing sound, the fabric was cut cleanly in two—precise to the finest degree.
Wei Ping’s gaze swept across the table, where needles, thread, thimbles, and other tools lay.
"Impressive skill," Wei Ping chuckled. "Who would have thought someone would choose to be a tailor instead of wearing ready-made clothes?"
The man laughed in return. "What leisure. Who would have thought someone would abandon a life of luxury and an immortal path to the heavens, staying in this backwater mortal realm to be someone else’s dog?"
As he spoke, he even imitated the bark of a dog twice.
Wei Ping wasn’t angered; his smile deepened. "Lin Feiyuan, if I’m a dog, what are you?"
Lin Feiyuan switched to a smaller, more delicate pair of scissors, meticulously trimming the edges. "We’re both dogs. But I’m a wild dog, free and without a master, living more comfortably than you, a house dog. You should thank me. With my arrival, you no longer have to pretend to be a dog."
"Who hired you to kill him?" Wei Ping asked.
From the moment he had come upstairs until now, he had asked three questions, but only one truly occupied his mind:
—This man is dangerous. Can I kill him right here?
"Years ago, I owed the Zhao Family’s patriarch a favor. This time, he personally asked, so I must repay it," Lin Feiyuan said, slipping on a thimble. "Though I may be like a wild dog, I still uphold the principles of ‘trust and honor.’"
Wei Ping replied, "...But Song Qianji doesn’t deserve to die."
"When did you become so naive? No one is born deserving death. It only depends on how much their life is worth."
Wei Ping pulled out a chair and sat opposite Lin Feiyuan. "They must have offered a lot of money."
Chen Hongzhu’s engagement to Wei Zhanyang had nothing to do with mutual affection; it was a move by the Huawei Sect and the Wei Family of Queshe County to forge closer ties.
The Huawei Sect and the Zhao Family watched as Song Qianji, now in control of Thousand Canals, attracted Rogue Cultivators and ordinary people, his influence growing day by day. They could not tolerate it.
"No need to guess. The Huawei Sect wants Song Qianji’s life as a betrothal gift. Once it’s done, they’ll present a Heaven-Grade Spirit Stone Vein as a dowry, sending the sect leader’s daughter, Chen Hongzhu, off in a grand marriage! As for me, I only take a small cut—one million."
One million. Song Qianji was indeed worth a sky-high price.
Wei Ping fell silent. His footsteps shifted lightly as he approached the table, as if to examine the brocade’s patterns and colors more closely.
"I see. You’ve grown attached to him after being his dog. You don’t want to kill him."
Lin Feiyuan suddenly burst into laughter, the sound shaking the candle flames into disarray:
"Sorry, but this is just too funny. Wei Ping, did you ever imagine you’d end up like this?"
Wei Ping’s hand, holding his sword, twitched slightly.
Lin Feiyuan threaded a golden thread through the needle’s eye, his stitches nimble, like butterflies flitting among flowers. "If you start a fight with me here and alert Song Qianji in the building across, how will you explain it?"
Wei Ping smiled. "A misunderstanding! We’re old acquaintances who haven’t seen each other in a long time. You introduced me to my first assassination job. Why would I want to kill you?"
Lin Feiyuan didn’t respond, focusing intently on his sewing for a while.
Finally, he lowered his head and bit off the extended golden thread, his movements practiced and elegant.
But his lips were crimson, and his canine teeth gleamed white. To Wei Ping, it looked like a wild beast tearing out its prey’s throat.
With a rustling sound, the brocade robe billowed. The candlelight flickered, dimming and then brightening again.
Lin Feiyuan draped the vibrant, flower-embroidered new robe over himself and stood up.
He was slightly taller than Wei Ping and looked down at him."If you don't kill him, there are plenty who will. When his powerful backer falls, assassinations will become open executions. The Huawel Sect, the Zhao Family, the Wei Family, and perhaps others—hundreds of Nascent Souls and thousands of Golden Cores will swarm out, leveling this tiny Thousand-Ditch Prefecture overnight. You've chosen this path—a dead end."
Wei Ping's clenched fist trembled slightly.
Before coming to Thousand Canals, he never imagined he would one day feel such rage over the fate of a small mortal prefecture.
"If you spare him, will he thank you? Do you dare tell him why you came here?" Lin Feiyuan leaned forward, lowering his voice:
"If he learns of this, would he spare your life? Even if he mercifully lets you live, would Meng Heze and Ji Chen allow it? Would they still let you stay by his side?"
Wei Ping abruptly retreated two steps.
—"If I catch you slipping up, you'll never set foot in Thousand Canals again in this lifetime!"
Meng Heze's harsh warning still echoed in his ears.
Lin Feiyuan circled around the desk, closing in on Wei Ping, and cheerfully persuaded him by his ear:
"If you join me in killing him, he dies. If I reveal the truth to him, you die. It's either him or you. A smart person knows how to choose."
Wei Ping suddenly reached out, pulling him close by the shoulder: "Better him dead than me dead, of course. When do we act? What's the plan?"
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