The night had grown deep.

The lights in various courtyards of the Immortal Official’s mansion gradually dimmed, and voices gradually quieted.

Qianqu Prefecture was dusty, and the moonlight was not bright. The luminous glow hazily penetrated the clouds, like the disciples’ ethereal dreams.

The many plants in Song Manor had not fallen asleep. Having just moved to their new home, they were silently taking root in the unfamiliar soil, striving to breathe the new air.

There’s a common saying that “trees die when moved, people thrive when moved,” but in truth, plants are like people. Under the crystal dome, each is delicate and tender, but when truly facing harsh mountains and treacherous waters, they must also find their way forward.

A faint candlelight flickered on the stone table, swaying in the wind, making the faces of the two people playing chess alternately bright and dim.

The intersecting lines of the chess board, the smooth texture of the black and white pieces, Song Qian Ji sitting upright, Ji Chen wiping his sweat.

Every move Ji Chen made was carefully considered and repeatedly calculated.

His calculations seemed futile. They had played three games, and in each game, he was utterly defeated.

But he still found it interesting, as if a great door was slowly opening, and he was walking into a completely new world.

This made him feel that he wasn’t entirely useless.

Song Qian Ji wasn’t relaxed. Each profession has its specialties, and when introducing a future great formation master to the basics, he was always afraid of hindering the other’s talent.

Therefore, he tried to speak as little as possible, allowing Ji Chen to think for himself more.

In the wind, there were only the sounds of insects chirping and the clear sound of pieces being placed, with occasional popping sounds as the candle flame crackled.

Song Qian Ji looked up, glancing at the hazy moon in the sky: “Let’s end our game here for tonight.”

Ji Chen was still engaged and reluctantly left the chessboard: “I’ve disturbed Brother Song for too long, I should indeed take my leave…”

“Wait.” Song Qian Ji took out a booklet without a cover from his bosom, turned to a certain page, and pointed it out to Ji Chen.

“Is this a chess manual?”

“It’s a formation. A formation manual left by the Chess Ghost.”

Ji Chen exclaimed in surprise: “That’s a treasure. Does Brother Song want to teach me how to set up formations?”

He looked at it by the faint candlelight and smiled bitterly, “Brother Song is kind to me and has good intentions, but I still only half-understand chess. I’m afraid I won’t be able to learn something this difficult.”

Years of failing to learn calligraphy and talisman-making had severely impacted his confidence.

Song Qian Ji consoled him: “It’s not difficult. Using formation materials to mobilize spiritual energy and control space—that’s a formation.”

He pointed to the yellowed page: “Tonight, we’ll first learn the ‘Entrapment Formation.’ If someone comes, you can use this to entertain them for me.”

“Alright, please teach me, Brother Song.” Ji Chen nodded solemnly.

Sometimes, the more nervous a person is, the easier it is for their mind to wander.

Ji Chen tried to concentrate but couldn’t help wondering who would come uninvited in the middle of the night.

If they needed to set up an entrapment formation, the visitor must be an enemy rather than a friend.

How could he dare to face an enemy in battle when he was just learning formation theory for the first time tonight?

Song Qian Ji noticed something was wrong: “What’s the matter?”

He sat restlessly, lowering his head and fidgeting with his hands: “What if I make a mistake…”

Song Qian Ji smiled: “I’ll back you up.”

Ji Chen suddenly looked up, staring at him until his eyes reddened slightly.

Song Qian Ji was startled as the shadow descended again. He thought, no way, is he going to cry again?

Where did I go wrong? Should I take the initiative and apologize first?

But Ji Chen said softly: “Only my father has ever said those words to me.”

When his father was still alive, how could he have been so cautious and timid?

No matter what he did or what trouble he caused, he had never been afraid, because he knew someone was standing behind him, always backing him up.

…

At midnight, the hazy moon shadow became clear.

A giant bat flapped its wings, flew over the wall, and landed among the layered buildings.

The wind from its wings was like a knife, scattering leaves from the branches.

As it landed, a face revealed in the moonlight showed a disdainful expression. It wasn’t a bat at all, but a person.

Zhao Ren concealed his aura, walking step by step into the small courtyard, thinking that surnamed Song fellow wasn’t that capable after all. He hadn’t managed to subdue the mansion’s protective formation, and now Zhao could come and go freely.

This courtyard appeared abandoned on the surface but had a concealed formation that could block divine sense probing. The entrance to his treasury was beneath the well.

Who knew what madness Song Qian Ji was up to? In just half a day, this place had been completely transformed, filled with vegetables and flowers.

He could sense that the treasury entrance had not been opened, and presumably, everything inside remained untouched. This put his mind at ease.

Zhao Ren’s footsteps were silent. Through a wisteria trellis, he vaguely saw Song Qian Ji’s silhouette.

Amid the flower shadows, the figure was leaning in a reclining chair, eyes half-closed, as if he had fallen asleep while admiring the moon.

Asleep, his somewhat thin body sank into the reclining chair, truly resembling a tender fifteen-year-old youth.

Just as Zhao Ren was about to enter the well to retrieve his treasures, a thought suddenly crossed his mind.

Song Qian Ji had created a huge mess, and both his family and sect would like nothing more than to get rid of him quickly, yet they had been unable to take action.

The reason was simple: firstly, his reputation was at its peak, and killing him would not be justified; secondly, he had powerful backing, and killing him risked retaliation.

They couldn’t kill him openly, and there had never been an opportunity for assassination.

During the day, everyone had witnessed him leaving Qianqu Prefecture, and no one had seen him return.

On this dark and windy night, this courtyard happened to have a formation. Eliminating the isolated Song Qian Ji now would be completely undetectable.

It would be a great achievement for both his family and sect.

Song Qian Ji had quite a few valuable items. The treasures left by the sage, though a great opportunity, were too conspicuous. Taking them would likely cause endless trouble.

But those two hundred thousand spirit stones didn’t have Song’s name on them. They belonged to whoever got them.

The thought of killing flashed briefly, but he didn’t act rashly.

With five fingers on his sword hilt, he repeatedly weighed the risks, considering whether it was worth the gamble.

The wind blew the flowers, and a subtle fragrance drifted.

Behind the trellis, Song Qian Ji suddenly opened his eyes, his gaze piercing straight through the flower shadows, landing directly on him.

“Not good!” Zhao Ren decisively leaped from the spot, flapping like a bat into the night sky.

“Ah!”

A scream in mid-air, the bat’s wings folded as it fell.

His sword was half-drawn but hadn’t left the scabbard.

The spiritual energy in the small courtyard suddenly changed, stirring like wind and clouds.

Fine golden lines shot out simultaneously from the roof tiles, wall corners, flower trellises, and stone tables, blanketing the sky, and crisscrossing.

Like a capturing net dropping from above, it firmly trapped Zhao Ren in the center, unable to move.

This is bad, an entrapment formation, he thought in great alarm.

Where had Song Qian Ji found a formation master who could set up a formation in half a day?

“Brother Song, we’ve caught him!” Someone jumped out from the thick darkness, excitedly saying, “He really can’t escape!”

“It’s you, boy!” Zhao Ren recognized Ji Chen, his eyes blazing with fire. “Fine, I misjudged you, you…”

But Ji Chen’s next words nearly made him spit blood: “This is my first time setting up a formation, Brother Song! We cobbled together the formation materials, but it worked.”

“Not bad.” Song Qian Ji finally rose from the reclining chair, shuffling in his shoes to stand before Zhao Ren. “Fellow Daoist Zhao, good evening.”

Good evening, my foot.

“Junior Brother Song, it’s all a misunderstanding!” Zhao Ren also smiled, his tone containing a veiled threat. “Don’t joke around, quickly dismantle this formation, or else if I forcibly break it, the formation master will suffer a backlash.”

Ji Chen was somewhat nervous but didn’t want to show weakness: “You sneaked in here in the middle of the night, you don’t have good intentions.”

“I came to take my things!” Zhao Ren justified himself.

Song Qian Ji shook his head: “Those aren’t yours, they belong to Qianqu.”

“The entire Qianqu belongs to me!” Zhao Ren gritted his teeth.

“Qianqu belongs to the people of Qianqu.”

Seeing Song Qian Ji unmoved, Zhao Ren’s expression completely cooled:

“Song Qian Ji, I am a direct descendant of my family. If you dare to harm a hair on my head, the Zhao family of Beidi Prefecture will demand your life!”

Song Qian Ji saw that his mind wasn’t functioning well and sighed, patiently reasoning with him:

“During the day, you left in anger in front of everyone. Who knows you came back? No one, right? You’re a golden core cultivator, there’s no one with higher cultivation than you in Qianqu Prefecture. Who could kill you? On the other hand, outside Qianqu Prefecture is the Poisonous Barrier Forest, with fierce beasts roaming. For cultivators who perish in the mouths of beasts, not even bones can be found…”

Zhao Ren trembled. The concealed formation in this courtyard was his proud creation, but now he hated it bitterly.

Song Qian Ji said: “I just want to ask you for some things. You can understand it as ransom money, how about that?”

Great, a lion opening its mouth wide, is that it?

“I won’t pay! How could I, your father, be threatened by a little turtle egg like you?” Zhao Ren sneered. “I won’t give you a single coin. I don’t believe you’d dare to strike. Come on then, if you have the guts, kill me!”

He stretched his neck, his eyes bulging, ferocious as a vengeful ghost.

Ji Chen had never seen such a sight and couldn’t help stepping back in fear.

Seeing this, Zhao Ren laughed triumphantly: “Not even fully grown, yet trying to extort… Ahhh!”

He suddenly let out a piercing scream like a slaughtered pig.

“Ah!” This cry was Ji Chen’s shout of surprise.

“Stand behind me, be careful not to get splashed,” Song Qian Ji said.

A half-whittled bamboo strip, with a sharp point, pierced straight through Zhao Ren’s shoulder blade, protruding from his back.

Song Qian Ji slowly pulled out the bamboo strip, his expression unchanged, his eyes not even blinking.

This was bamboo he had newly whittled in the afternoon, leftover trimmings from making a new fence.

Now held in his hand, its length and width were like a sword.

A dull knife cutting flesh hurts; a bamboo strip with wooden splinters naturally hurts even more.

Zhao Ren knelt on the ground, his teeth chattering, his face pale, blood gushing like a spring.

Song Qian Ji bent down, took Zhao Ren’s hand, and placed it on his shoulder: “Here, press hard on this spot. This way, the blood will flow more slowly. Hold it firmly yourself, I won’t help you anymore. Don’t panic, with this amount of blood, you won’t die within the time it takes for an incense stick to burn. Fellow Daoist Zhao, I have some small conditions, and I hope you’ll listen.”

Song Qian Ji stood up and lit an incense stick with his blood-stained hand.

A spark flashed, and faint smoke drifted.

Zhao Ren’s eyes were bloodshot as he cursed vehemently, but the pain made tears and mucus stream down his face.

The curses were unbearable to hear. Song Qian Ji glanced at Ji Chen’s pale face, removed Zhao Ren’s hand, and gave him another “sword.”

The two adjacent wounds overlapped.

This time Zhao Ren couldn’t curse anymore, just opened his mouth wide in a silent scream.

“At this level, it’s very treatable and won’t leave any aftereffects. It won’t affect your sword use in the future,” Song Qian Ji consoled him. “Fellow Daoist Zhao, Brother Zhao, we have no grudges, and neither of us wanted this to happen. We have the same goal. We both want to end this suffering quickly, don’t you agree?”

He was speaking the truth.

There were some things he had done very skillfully in his previous life, but in this life, he didn’t want to do the same things again.

Proficiency didn’t mean enjoyment.

He hoped to resolve this quickly.

He helped Zhao Ren press on the wound again.

Zhao Ren seemed to see a demon, crying like a child who had lost his mother.

Song Qian Ji, was he even human anymore?

Why could he act so ruthlessly yet remain completely composed?

Seeing Song Qian Ji about to give him another “sword,” Zhao Ren screamed miserably: “Just name your price! Tell me!”

Song Qian Ji nodded: “That’s more like it. You don’t have these things, but you can write a letter to gather them from elsewhere. I know you can do it.”

“Hurry and say it!” Zhao Ren covered his bleeding arm. “I’ll agree to everything.”

Song Qian Ji said: “Three thousand jin of millet, three thousand head of livestock, three thousand tree saplings, three thousand jin of wheat…”

The more Zhao Ren listened, the more dazed he became, even suspecting he was hearing things. Could these things buy my life?

Ji Chen watched his expression change and couldn’t help laughing. Suddenly he paused, wondering what Brother Song had done before, where had he learned such methods?

If I were Zhao Ren, would I still be able to laugh?

Fortunately, Brother Song is my good friend.

…

The village was lively at dawn.

The crowing of roosters and barking of dogs resonated clearly, and wisps of cooking smoke slowly rose into the clouds.

A woman stood by the stove cooking bean porridge.

The bean porridge was bitter and rough in texture, but at least it was filling.

A child followed behind her: “Mother, when will Father come back?”

“In a few more days,” the woman smiled. “The better behaved you are, the sooner your father will return.”

“But how many days is that?” Little Hu persisted. “I’ve been very good already.”

The woman couldn’t answer, her smile barely concealing her worry.

She didn’t know what kind of temperament the new Immortal Official had, or if something might happen.

“Huan Niang, Huan Niang!” Suddenly there was knocking and calling at the door, with more than one voice. “Great news!”

Huan Niang hurriedly opened the door to find half the village had arrived.

The last time so many people had gathered at her doorstep was when Carpenter Liu’s leg had been broken.

“Village Chief, Uncle, Third Uncle, what’s happened?”

“Good news! The new Immortal Official personally appointed Liu Er as Agricultural Director. The whole of Tiancheng is talking about it. His curved beam plow is a treasure!”

“The Immortal Official will heal his leg and will tour Qianqu with him. He’s even coming to our village!”

“Our village has produced a great Agricultural Director. You and Little Hu will enjoy good fortune now!”

Little Hu didn’t understand but knew it was good news and kept clapping his hands.

“Really?” Huan Niang was overjoyed but cautiously asked, “Between the Agricultural Director and the Village Chief, who is more important?”

“Of course, the Agricultural Director is more important!” The old Village Chief laughed. “The Agricultural Director is a high official!”

“Between the Agricultural Director and the Township Head, who is more important?”

“Still the Agricultural Director! Stop overthinking. The Agricultural Director only answers to the Immortal Official and can walk tall throughout Qianqu. Even the Township Head must kowtow to him and call him ‘Great Lord’! Huan Niang, those bullies from the township won’t dare to mistreat you anymore!”

“Is the Agricultural Director that powerful? Can such good fortune be true…” Huan Niang looked dazed. Suddenly her smile disappeared, and she cried out in alarm: “Has he been beaten to death? Will he never return? Is that why you’re deceiving me like this? Tell me the truth, is he still alive?!”

“People are coming from Tiancheng!”

Another shout rang out, growing closer, as the messenger ran through the morning mist:

“People are coming from Tiancheng! They’re distributing grain!”