The Chess Ghost was astonished. With his experience and cultivation, when looking at youths of fifteen or sixteen, he usually needed only a glance to see through them completely.

Yet he couldn’t see through the person before him.

He had thought that someone who could develop such chess skills and sword techniques must surely have a heart as firm as bedrock, as immovable as a mountain, and would strive for perfection in everything, demanding ten parts even when only seven were possible.

Combined with extraordinary talent and exceptional natural gifts, such a person would surely be arrogant and self-admiring, looking down on everyone else.

How could someone with such a temperament be affected by romantic love?

“For a woman?” he couldn’t help but ask curiously. “Is she your Dao companion?”

Song Qian Ji lifted the wine jar, letting the liquid flow down the corners of his mouth, dampening his collar. “Not exactly.”

They had never performed the ceremony, never registered their union, and at most had only held hands—indeed, they couldn’t be considered Dao companions.

Later, Miao Yan became the mate of Wei Zhen Yu, the world’s savior, so it couldn’t even be considered remarriage.

Li Ying suddenly felt indignant: “If she wasn’t your Dao companion, why did you learn chess for her? Was it so easy for you that you understood the Dao as soon as you picked up a piece?”

“How could it be easy? I’m not a genius. I was left with barely half my life when I was learning. When I returned, that person only said two words…”

“‘Thank you’?” Li Ying interrupted, “Since you did it for her, she must have been grateful and said thank you!”

After speaking, she stuck out her tongue. In front of her master, she shouldn’t have interrupted.

But seeing her master in a good mood, smiling and looking at her with approval.

Master was also curious but just too embarrassed to be so nosy.

Li Ying gave Chess Ghost a knowing look—when master has matters to attend to, disciples serve the labor, don’t worry.

“Ha, she would never say thank you to me. Whatever I did for her was taken for granted. She said, ‘Not bad.'” Song Qian Ji laughed so hard he choked on his wine. “At that time, I thought that if I could exchange nine deaths and one life for her to say ‘not bad,’ it would be worth it.”

Though he was laughing, Li Ying’s eyes grew moist. She put down her hairpin brush and raised her hand to rub her eyes.

“Bang!” The old man suddenly slammed his palm onto the stone table.

Cracks appeared faintly at the corner of the table.

Li Ying was startled—if not for the protective formation at Hua Wei Sect’s Star-Plucking Platform, the pavilion would have collapsed.

“Young man, romance weakens a hero’s spirit!” Chess Ghost fumed.

“Now that you’re becoming my disciple, what woman could you not marry? Whether it’s a celestial maiden from heaven or Miao Yan from earth, this old man will arrange it for you!”

Li Ying thought to herself, master has been detached and weary in recent years, not even managing important matters at Purple Cloud Observatory, yet he’s concerning himself with a young man’s marriage.

Barring any unexpected circumstances, this person would soon become her senior fellow disciple.

Although he was a drunkard, he wasn’t unlikable—this young lady accepted it.

At worst, when I brew medicine for master every day, I’ll also brew sobering soup for you to drink.

When Song Qian Ji heard the name Miao Yan, he frantically waved his hands: “No, no, no, sir, you absolutely must not arrange that for me. I would never marry Miao Yan even if it killed me! If you try to make me marry her, I’ll fall out with you!”

“What?” Li Ying was stunned. “Immortal Miao Yan, you don’t like her?”

“Don’t like her!” Song Qian Ji slammed the stone table decisively. “Not interested!”

Li Ying wondered which female cultivator had captured his heart.

For her sake, he would reject even the “number one beauty,” the incomparably gorgeous Immortal Miao Yan.

If I had been born a few years earlier and met him before that person, having master accept him as a disciple, making us senior and junior fellow disciples. If I treated him well, he wouldn’t be drowning his sorrows alone in wine tonight.

If this person weren’t troubled by love and muddled by drink, he would surely be the earliest-recognized, unparalleled genius.

When some elder took a liking to him and wanted to arrange his marriage, he would slam the table for her sake and say, “Not interested, I already have my junior sister.”

Thinking of this, Li Ying couldn’t help but smile.

But being young, like a fledgling bird leaving the nest, she was still confused and didn’t understand why such feelings arose.

Chess Ghost, with his vast experience, understood and glanced at his female disciple who was smiling with a lowered head, then spoke leisurely:

“I also think Miao Yan is just average. Look at my disciple here—her reputation isn’t prominent only because she doesn’t like to show off. In terms of talent, appearance, natural gifts, and background, how is she inferior to Miao Yan?”

Li Ying’s cheeks flushed red as she said softly, “Master flatters me. I would never dare compare myself to Immortal Miao Yan.”

She was naturally free-spirited and unrestrained, but suddenly became shy, with none of the spirit she had shown earlier when betting and making people call her “little young mistress.”

“What’s there not to compare?” Song Qian Ji stared at her for a moment, then shouted with a slurred tongue, “As long as you’re sincere to yourself and to others, you’re a thousand, ten thousand times better than Miao Yan!”

Li Ying caught the scent of fruit wine on him, her face turning redder than if she were drunk, and scolded in a low voice, “Nonsense.”

Song Qian Ji looked confused. “I only spoke the truth, how is that nonsense?”

“I wasn’t calling you nonsensical, I just…” Li Ying said urgently, “Do you take everything others say seriously?!”

How much suffering had that female cultivator caused him, for him to always blame himself for everything?

At this thought, tears fell uncontrollably, dripping down.

Song Qian Ji was greatly alarmed.

Why was she crying?

He looked toward the old man for help.

But the old man just smiled slightly, refusing to intervene, as if enjoying the scene.

Song Qian Ji’s head throbbed.

He Yuan Yuan came to him crying, Meng He Ze came to him crying, and Ji Chen came to him crying.

Now even a young girl he just met was crying in front of him.

Counting his years lived, he could be her ancestor, her grandfather—how could he bear to upset her?

Song Qian Ji hurriedly said, “I’m wrong, I’m wrong. Whatever I did wrong, I apologize to you. Please don’t cry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Li Ying didn’t care that her master was beside her and cried even harder. “With your temperament, no wonder you get deceived by female cultivators!”

Song Qian Ji thought, my apology is also wrong.

Is there any reasoning here?

“Then what should I do, little young mistress?”

Li Ying, with tears all over her face, rolled her eyes, wondering how he usually pursued that female cultivator.

Was it like in storybooks—under flowers and moonlight, composing poetry, trying to please a beauty?

She unreasonably demanded, “Sing me a song.”

Song Qian Ji smiled bitterly, “I don’t know how.”

“Then tell me a joke.”

“I don’t know that either.”

Li Ying stamped her foot. “Then compose a poem for me, and don’t say you don’t know how again!”

“I don’t know how. Would a doggerel verse do?”

Li Ying quickly nodded and handed him her hairpin brush.

Song Qian Ji took the brush, thought for a moment, and then wrote on the stone table in one fluid motion:

“I wish to add spring breeze to my wine for intoxication,

Let all life’s matters of gratitude and grudges cease.

Among the world’s heroes, who could be my match?

Seeking immortality is not as good as—”

As he was about to write the last three characters, the stone table was blocked by an open notebook.

It contained the chess notation that Li Ying had just recorded, the ink still wet.

Li Ying was about to remove the notebook, but Song Qian Ji didn’t want to interrupt his flow, so he wrote directly in her notebook: “Growing potatoes.”

With a burst of laughter, the young girl’s tears turned to smiles.

“‘Seeking immortality is not as good as growing potatoes,’ what is ‘growing potatoes’? Are you making this up?”

Song Qian Ji smiled, “I’m not making it up. I do grow potatoes.”

Li Ying was about to ask why he grew them when suddenly she heard noisy voices and footsteps from the mountainside.

“Senior Brother Song, are you there?” Countless voices shouted, startling birds into flight.

In the darkness, torchlight wound like a long dragon, extending up to the mountaintop.

“I’m here,” Song Qian Ji called out, then said to the old man enjoying the cool air, “Someone’s come to find me. I’ll take my leave.”

He rose unsteadily. Li Ying stepped forward to support him, but he had already steadied himself against a pavilion pillar, indicating there was no need.

Chess Ghost smiled, “Our meeting tonight was brief. I’ll first give you half a scroll of chess notation. You can look at it when you’re free, to pass the time.”

Chess notation?

Song Qian Ji heard him speak casually and saw him take out a thin booklet without even a cover. It wasn’t like “Thirteen Chapters of Chess Classics” or “Four Masters’ Notation.”

It looked more like “108 Essential Formations to Learn in This Life,” “One Book to Teach You to Become a Chess Master,” or “Exclusive Famous Notations to Help You Defeat All Opponents” and the like.

In the past, when he fled for his life and hid among the common people, some old men would wake from their afternoon naps, fan themselves with palm-leaf fans, and play chess in the shade.

Nearby street vendors sold such booklets.

Song Qian Ji casually accepted it: “Thank you, sir.”

Soon, many people flooded into the mountain pavilion, surrounding the drunkard.

Li Ying was stunned as some wiped his sweat with silk handkerchiefs, others draped a cloak over him, and some fed him sobering soup.

They wore the robes of Hua Wei Sect’s outer disciples and looked at him with reverent, adoring eyes. It seemed they would have liked nothing better than to carry him away in a sedan chair.

“No need to support me, I’m not drunk!” Song Qian Ji, draped in the cloak, walked a few steps, then turned back to wave, “Young lady, old sir. Until we meet again!”

“Senior Brother Song, what are you saying? There’s no one in that pavilion,” Meng He Ze said, puzzled.

“No one?” Song Qian Ji was stunned. “You can’t see them?”

The outer disciples all shook their heads, insisting:

“There’s no one there, just two fallen leaves.”

“Senior Brother drank too much. Come back with us quickly. Everyone was worried when you went out and didn’t return.”

“I truly must be drunk.”

It’s normal not to win against the old man when drunk and not performing well.

Song Qian Ji smiled, allowing Meng He Ze to support him away.

The moon was affectionate, the spring breeze remained the same.

Li Ying said in a daze, “Seeing his solitary chess style, I thought he had no friends and was drinking alone in melancholy. I didn’t expect…”

“He truly has no friends,” Chess Ghost sighed.

Li Ying watched as his figure receded into the distance.

He was surrounded by the crowd, and well taken care of.

Accompanied by many companions, the center of attention is like the moon among stars.

Li Ying suddenly felt he was very lonely, like someone walking alone in the howling north wind of the deep night.

The moonlight shone upon him, cold and clear, as if a snowfall had just settled.