The Calligraphy Sage was uninhibited in his laughter, anger, and criticism when among his people.

But in public gatherings, his smile slightly dimmed, though no anger was visible.

Only the Black Shop owners disguised as academy teachers sitting behind the Calligraphy Sage knew that he was probably cursing loudly in his mind, extending his curses to Ji Guang’s entire family, including his wet nurse.

Yet there were still people who couldn’t read the situation.

Zhao Ji, ranked second, stood up and quickly walked to the center of the hall. He bowed deeply to the ground and loudly declared, “This disciple boldly requests the Sage’s clear judgment.”

“We request the Sage’s clear judgment,” another person stood up—it was Wei Zhan Yang, ranked third in the calligraphy and painting examination.

The music stopped, the hot wine turned cold, and the entire hall fell into dead silence.

The eternal lamps flickered, and the lamp wicks crackled and popped.

This generation of young people is quite bold, thought the Black Shop owners.

Ji Chen, in his excitement, failed to notice the subtle change in atmosphere. He was busy shaking his cousin’s hand vigorously, his words of gratitude coming from the bottom of his heart, only to be pushed away by the latter.

Only then did he come to his senses, hurriedly standing upright, bowing and echoing, “I request Sage’s clear judgment?”

Everyone stared at Ji Chen in astonishment, thinking, why are you joining in the commotion?

Being the champion is so glorious—once you’ve been champion, who would want to go back to being useless? What benefit is there for you in admitting such a thing?

The Calligraphy Sage initially ignored Ji Guang, addressing only Zhao Ji and Wei Zhan Yang: “You two believe that your calligraphy achievements surpass the characters for ‘chicken egg’ on Ji Chen’s scroll, is that right?”

His demeanor was gentle, like an elder family member.

“Yes,” Zhao Ji gritted his teeth and said, “We talisman masters who study calligraphy should naturally strive to excel and not fall behind others! Strong is strong, weak is weak. When I wrote on the rock wall, my brush intent was slightly diminished; if I had written on paper, it would certainly surpass the ‘Chicken Egg Calligraphy.’ Ji Chen has deceived the Sage and does not deserve his reputation.”

“Please give this disciple another chance to compete with Ji Chen!” Wei Zhan Yang, seeing the situation, quickly interjected.

Those in the hall who initially thought these two were reckless now thought they showed some cleverness.

Missing this opportunity would make it difficult to see the Calligraphy Sage again and have a chance at his legacy. Better to take a risk and try.

If successful, it would be an instant ascension. If unsuccessful, the Calligraphy Sage, being a role model, was most reasonable and wouldn’t make things difficult for two juniors.

Zhao Ji lifted the hem of his robe and knelt to plead.

Wei Zhan Yang and Ji Guang followed closely behind.

Ji Chen looked at them, and in his foolish confusion, also started to kneel.

“Oh, so that’s what you think,” the Calligraphy Sage said calmly. He raised his hand, seemingly about to strike the jade table in front of him.

Immortal Xu Yun, the Hua Wei Sect Leader, had been closely monitoring his aura changes. Sensing trouble, he immediately stood up.

Just then, the Dean of Qing Cliff rushed into the hall: “Sage, I have something to report.”

The Calligraphy Sage temporarily withdrew his hand: “Speak.”

Xu Yun sat down, relieved.

He originally had full control here, but since the successive arrivals of the Calligraphy Sage, Chess Ghost, and Zither Immortal, the situation was no longer under his control.

Xian Jian Chen’s sword energy still hung outside the hall ceiling—calling his name would bring down lightning. It was as if the four strongest individuals in the world had gathered at Hua Wei Sect.

This feeling was truly stifling, especially when his breakthrough to Divine Transformation had failed and his hidden injuries had not yet healed.

The Dean stepped forward, about to speak, but after consideration, he communicated mentally: “News has come from Purple Cloud Observatory that Chess Ghost played chess with a young disciple tonight and has found his desired successor. He invites you to the Star-Plucking Platform tomorrow at the hour of Chen for a discussion.”

The Calligraphy Sage’s expression changed slightly—had Song Qian Ji been discovered?

Impossible. Song Qian Ji was never known to play chess, hadn’t registered for the chess examination, and had never interacted with people from Purple Cloud Observatory. He hadn’t even had the opportunity to meet Chess Ghost.

Besides, in this year’s chess examination, there was a genius who emerged from a small sect, named Li Er Gou, called Li Ci Quan, it must be him.

If that was the case, he wouldn’t bother setting up a deception anymore.

Ji Chen had a talent for formations. He originally didn’t want Chess Ghost to discover him, but as long as the other didn’t compete with him for Song Qian Ji—

He would bring Ji Chen along tomorrow, as an extra gift!

The Calligraphy Sage thought happily that after all, his fortune was better, more favored by the Heavenly Dao.

Everyone was extremely curious about what the Dean had said to make the Calligraphy Sage so visibly pleased.

They saw the Calligraphy Sage smile and say:

“You talisman masters striving to excel—well said. I understand your discontent very well. Since that’s the case, come to Star-Plucking Platform tomorrow at the second mark of the Chen hour to see something. Any young person in Hua Wei Sect who practices calligraphy may come to watch. Feel free to compete—whoever thinks they can write better, this old man will take them as a disciple!”

He decided that after meeting Chess Ghost tomorrow, he would bring out the “Merchant’s Energy-Gathering Talisman” written by Song Qian Ji, then publicly announce that he would pass his legacy to Song Qian Ji.

This would be a triumphant vindication.

Zhao Ji and Wei Zhan Yang, their minds clouded by joy, no longer cared about the foolish Ji Chen and thanked in unison: “Thank you, Sage!”

The crowd was still surprised and skeptical:

“So the Calligraphy Sage truly intends to take a disciple!”

“How many people will come when this news spreads?”

“What does the Sage want everyone to see? It sounds like he’s already prepared.”

Xu Yun’s face darkened.

Star-Plucking Platform was situated at a great height, offering a panoramic view of the entire Hua Wei Sect—a symbol of status.

When Chess Ghost wanted to bring his disciple up to observe the chess examination, he pretended to welcome it and lifted the restrictions.

But tomorrow morning, when everyone rushed up there, including a group of nameless juniors, what would become of decorum?

Patience—the character for patience has a knife above it. Xu Yun counseled himself that the Deng Wen Elegance Conference was finally coming to an end.

After tomorrow, Hua Wei Sect will be his Hua Wei Sect again.

Everyone had different thoughts.

Ji Guang stood stunned to one side, glaring hatefully at Ji Chen.

But Ji Chen rose happily, pouring and drinking for himself as if no one else was there:

“Good wine, good wine!”

Raising his cup to invite the moon, with no one to drink with, he suddenly thought of Song Qian Ji.

Where might Brother Song be now? Was he satisfied with the fruit wine he had given him?

He had collected many good wines; next time they met, he would surely treat Brother Song to his heart’s content!

…

The cold moon was lonely, and the night wind carried distant sounds of beast cries and water.

Torches, lanterns, and light-gathering talismans lit up the mountains and forests unusually brightly, illuminating every young face.

Some looked tense, some were trembling slightly, but no one stepped back.

Song Qian Ji stepped forward, and the three-layered formation moved with him.

Zhao Yu Ping was caught in a dilemma.

He had never known that a group of cultivators of modest cultivation levels could be so united and that their unity could possess such tremendous deterrent power.

Seize a few junior disciples to make an example, to kill one to warn a hundred? It would likely provoke more anger and lead to immediate bloodshed.

Better to capture the leader first—if Song Qian Ji was captured, all the outer disciples would be hesitant to act, and none would dare move rashly.

He looked like those behind him.

Six trusted followers of Zhao Ji Heng had come with him; without Zhao Ji Heng’s backing, he wouldn’t have dared come here tonight.

“Wait!” A feminine shout rang out like sudden thunder.

A red shadow seemed to materialize out of thin air, blocking his path.

Zhao Yu Ping was startled and quickly retreated two steps. Recognizing the newcomer, his expression changed.

The stewards and Enforcement Hall members were alarmed, instinctively putting away their magical artifacts.

It was Chen Hong Zhu.

Xu Kan Shan laughed softly: “Senior Brother Song, how about that? It’s all thanks to my quick thinking, sending a message talisman to notify the Young Miss first!”

Qiu Da Cheng said: “Heh, Senior Brother Song, don’t listen to him. I thought of this idea first! Next time, take me gambling first!”

Song Qian Ji couldn’t help but smile.

Chen Hong Zhu asked: “What are you trying to do?”

“Capturing rebellious disciples!” Zhao Yu Ping declared righteously. “Outer disciples trespassing on Star-Plucking Platform at night, violating sect rules, yet refusing to repent.”

Chen Hong Zhu looked at him for a moment, staring until he felt uneasy, before finally speaking:

“If you use force and cause bloodshed, other sects would learn of it and condemn Hua Wei Sect for losing its way. Where would that leave Hua Wei Sect’s prestige? Step aside, I’ll handle this matter.”

Zhao Yu Ping bowed respectfully to her, but said: “Is this the Sect Leader’s intention, or Young Miss’s own decision?”

Chen Hong Zhu raised her hand and shouted: “The Hua Wei Sect Command Token is here. Seeing the token is like seeing the Sect Leader. Withdraw quickly!”

The token shone with golden light, brilliantly dazzling.

It granted freedom of movement within the Hua Wei Sect and could command all three halls.

Song Qian Ji was speechless—using public authority for private ends again.

Zhao Yu Ping was still reluctant, giving Song Qian Ji a deep look.

But with the night’s situation as it was, there was nothing to be done.

“Yes!”

They left the same way they had come, receding like the tide, leaving no trace.

The outer disciples breathed a collective sigh of relief, looked at each other, and suddenly burst into loud laughter.

The sound shook the mountains and forests, startling birds into flight.

…

Song Qian Ji was supported back to Song Courtyard by Meng He Ze.

“Tonight was dangerous, but fortunately there was more alarm than actual danger,” Meng He Ze smiled.

Song Qian Ji shook his head: “Not dangerous.”

“If Senior Brother says it wasn’t dangerous, then it wasn’t,” Meng He Ze said. “Senior Brother is drunk, go rest quickly! I’ll come make noodles for Senior Brother tomorrow.”

Song Qian Ji nodded, then suddenly called out to someone outside: “Come in.”

Meng He Ze turned around.

It turned out Chen Hong Zhu had been following behind them all along.

Meng He Ze, seeing that the two seemed to have something to discuss, and grateful to her for resolving the situation tonight, smiled at her and left directly.

Chen Hong Zhu, however, did not smile.

The spoiled expression had completely vanished from her face, replaced by a heavy one.

The night was deep, and the dew was heavy; all the garden flowers and plants stretched out their forms in the moonlight.

It seemed as if even the night breeze that blew into this small courtyard had become gentle.

Chen Hong Zhu stood under the flower trellis, looking at Song Qian Ji relaxing on the lounge chair.

He always seemed to be at ease.

With his abilities, he should have been a very complex person, yet he lived so simply and was easily satisfied.

“After tonight’s events, Hua Wei Sect can no longer keep you,” she heard her voice, slightly bitter.

Song Qian Ji smiled: “I was planning to leave the mountain anyway. Have you forgotten?”

Chen Hong Zhu was stunned.

She stared at him as if seeing this person for the first time.

Her gaze gradually turned cold:

“You calculated this day long ago, which is why you turned all the outer disciples against the sect, making them rebel?”

Song Qian Ji remained silent.

These people were not born to work for the sect—how could this be called “rebellion”?

Chen Hong Zhu took his silence as confirmation.

Since their meeting on Passing Water Bridge, it seemed that apart from both disliking Miao Yan, they had no common ground, always standing on opposite sides.

She didn’t want to admit it, yet had to.

She suddenly said: “Leave the mountain, leave tonight, leave immediately.”

Once Song Qian Ji left, the group would be leaderless, and without guidance, the disciples would gradually drift apart.

Otherwise, if the entire outer sect was driven down the mountain, what would become of Hua Wei Sect’s prestige? Other sects aside, the Da Yan Sect would be the most pleased.

If this matter spread, it would certainly affect the sect’s future disciple recruitment.

“I won’t leave,” Song Qian Ji said.

Chen Hong Zhu’s face alternated between pale and flushed. She gritted her teeth and said:

“If you want me to apologize, fine. I shouldn’t have forcibly stopped you back then. I’m sorry!”

Song Qian Ji still shook his head.

Anger rose in Chen Hong Zhu’s heart as she snapped: “What else do you want? Magical artifacts, cultivation methods, spirit stones? Tell me!”

Song Qian Ji: “I want a place where I can grow things.”

Chen Hong Zhu was puzzled: “A place? To grow things?”

Hua Wei Sect was the hegemon of the Western Continent, with thousands of tributary countries and territories. Countless ordinary people made offerings to the golden statues of the Sect Leader and various Hua Wei Sect high-level members, enhancing their fortunes.

She suddenly realized: “You want a fiefdom?”

Song Qian Ji nodded: “Something like that.”

“You want a city?” She had dozens of mortal cities under her name; it wouldn’t be difficult.

“No.”

“You want a country?”

“No,” Song Qian Ji said. “I want a county.”

Chen Hong Zhu took a deep breath: “I cannot decide this matter alone. I must discuss it with my father and the other Peak Masters.”

Song Qian Ji smiled: “Go ahead.”

Chen Hong Zhu stepped over the threshold without looking back, only saying: “Consider it my cleverness backfiring. It’s easy to invite a god but difficult to send one away. I’ve learned my lesson.”

Her voice scattered in the wind; Song Qian Ji didn’t hear clearly.

He was still a bit dizzy and went inside to collapse into bed.

…

Morning.

Clear sunlight slanted through the door, gently kissing Song Qian Ji’s thick eyelashes.

He rubbed his eyes and woke up.

That night, he dreamed of a massive tree reaching from earth to heaven, once dying, now revitalized with new life.

Song Qian Ji thought that last night, having once swung his sword toward heaven in the chess game, he had also had a good dream.

He smiled lightly, feeling content, when suddenly he felt something in his sleeve.

A thin half-scroll booklet.

His smile instantly froze.

The howling night wind, the solitary mountain pavilion, the starry sky, and the sickly old man… scene after scene rushed into his mind.

Song Qian Ji was startled, jumped out of bed, and felt chilled from head to toe.

He flipped through the book rapidly, taking in ten lines at a glance, holding his breath to examine it carefully.

The intersecting lines of the chessboard, the scattered black and white pieces, entered his vision and began to flow rapidly, forming complex and shifting formations.

This wasn’t a street-stall chess manual—this was a formation secrets manual!

Song Qian Ji grabbed his hair, wanting to slap himself.

What have I done?!

It wasn’t the fruit wine’s fault; he couldn’t blame Ji Chen. It was his fault for not knowing his alcohol tolerance.

In his previous life, he needed to stay clear-headed at all times and had never drunk alcohol, only envying others who could.

Had he known earlier, he could have used his internal spiritual energy to neutralize the alcohol’s effects.

Who would have thought that the Spring of Immortality could nourish meridians and heal injuries, yet couldn’t counteract even a bit of fruit wine?

Truly useless.

Song Qian Ji rushed out the door, facing the brilliant morning sun, and shouted at the wisteria on the trellis: “Drinking causes trouble!”

The wisteria strings shook in the morning breeze as if laughing at him.

Song Qian Ji patted the cucumber vine: “No more drinking! I don’t dare drink anymore!”

The cucumbers hid under their leaves, too lazy to pay him any attention.

“If you’ve taken someone else’s things, can you return them?” he poked the potato leaves.

The potatoes merely shook their leaves, dropping a large dewdrop.

It fell on the back of his hand, ice-cold.

Not as cold as Song Qian Ji’s heart.