Wei Ping outwardly agreed with Lin Fei Yuan’s words, but inwardly only believed about sixty percent of them.

His own words were likely met with similar half-belief from the other party, which is why the plan revealed to him was half-exposed, half-hidden.

He knew the signal, the mark, and what he needed to do, but didn’t know when the signal would be given.

Wei Ping probed: “If we don’t agree beforehand, I’m afraid I won’t react in time.”

Lin Fei Yuan smiled: “You’re not the main assassin, you’re only responsible for assisting me, so you don’t need time to react.”

“Song Academy’s formations are interlocked and difficult to deal with. I need to prepare in advance.”

“Who said we need to sneak into Song Academy to kill him? Would you assassinate Xu Yun in the Hua Wei Sect, or kill your great-grandfather in your ancestral home?”

Wei Ping hinted: “If there are still our people hidden by his side in the Celestial Official’s Mansion, that might not be impossible.”

“I know what you want to ask,” Lin Fei Yuan said languidly. “Go south from this street, then turn right and walk ten steps. Go on—if you’re late, you might not see them.”

Wei Ping hurried downstairs, making the stairs vibrate with each step.

The shopkeeper followed him to the door: “Take care, Manager Wei. Please bring Celestial Official Song to honor us with his presence sometime—”

Golden lanterns hung from the second and third floors on both sides of the street. Snowflakes passed through the beams of light, drifting slowly, landing on people’s shoulders and cheeks, cool and emanating cold air.

Every brick and tile of “Thousand Channels Market” was infused with Wei Ping’s heart and blood. He designed and supervised it, recruited merchants to set up shops, and watched tall buildings rise from nothing, with bright lights illuminating in all directions.

Everyone walking in this market tonight wore peaceful and joyful smiles—everyone except him, who could find no peace.

“Jade hairpins, lilacs, narcissus, red leaves—take a look! Wearing flowers in winter makes you the most beautiful on the street! Growing flowers in winter brings prosperity for the festival!”

Wei Ping grabbed the hawking peddler’s wrist, realized the person was truly an ordinary mortal, and quickly released his grip.

“Does Manager Wei want to see red leaves? These are red leaves that can’t be found in Tian City—a specialty of Three Pure Counties! Fresh stock that just arrived this morning!”

“Where did they come from?!”

Wei Ping always smiled at everyone—when had he ever spoken so harshly?

The peddler was startled: “A person in flowery clothes sold me a basketful this morning. I’m reselling with just a small markup, not making much profit—it’s all hard-earned money. Here, this leaf is for you.”

Wei Ping patted the peddler’s arm and silently turned away.

I should have thought of this earlier. Have I become stupid since coming to Thousand Channels? Or is it that matters I care about most easily sway my emotions?

Song Qian Ji loved plants, and anyone who obtained rare flowers and plants would present them to him. Being constantly by his side, Wei Ping would certainly see them.

Lin Fei Yuan had just arrived in Thousand Channels and used this feint to make him suspicious of everyone, including Ji Chen.

…

When Wei Ping returned that day, Ji Chen asked a few questions, but Song Qian Ji asked nothing.

Wei Ping didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed.

By day, he carried on as usual, acting as the steward and preparing nine-grid dishes.

At night, when all was silent, he climbed to the former Celestial Official’s residence—the tallest Cloud Tower in Tian City.

Gazing at the bright moon, he guessed and filled in the details of Lin Fei Yuan’s plan. Looking down at Tian City, with its terrain etched in his mind, he rehearsed the possible assassination routes the other might take.

Wei Ping waited day after day, but the other did not come and left no trace.

If not for the peddlers selling red leaves that occasionally appeared in Tian City, the night meeting at the silk shop might have seemed like a snowy hallucination.

One can be a thief for a thousand days, but who can guard against thieves for a thousand days?

Wei Ping was busy during the day. The more preparations he made in secret, the more thorough they were, and the more inadequate they felt.

At night, he began drinking again.

Before, he drank every day, getting so drunk he couldn’t tell what time it was. Since coming to Thousand Channels, he hadn’t touched a drop.

After finishing his wine, Wei Ping slapped the railing and cursed: “Meng He Ze, you talk about protecting Senior Brother Song, but where are you? Leaving that fool Ji Chen behind—what good can he do? Don’t you dare die out there!”

One shouldn’t lean on railings alone, because those who can’t see a way forward might jump.

Wei Ping didn’t jump because Song Qian Ji needed his steward to organize a major event.

“Harvest Festival? What festival is that?”

Song Qian Ji was sweeping snow and scraping ice. He preferred to wade through the mud and water to tend to Song Academy himself, not letting others help: “It’s a festival I just thought of.”

Cold comes and the heat goes, autumn harvests, and winter stores.

Song Qian Ji loved the blooming flowers of spring, the vigorous vitality of summer, and the abundant harvests of autumn.

Winter was different—winter was about “storing.” Ordinary people stored food, cultivators accumulated spiritual energy, and the world’s vitality was hidden beneath snow and within the earth, reducing consumption to resist the cold, waiting for spring to come again next year.

Life and death cycle, as do heaven and earth.

Wei Ping followed behind Song Qian Ji, occasionally handing him a hot towel to wipe his hands.

The steward’s gentle smile remained the same: “Why did sir suddenly think of celebrating a festival?”

“After heavy snow, the yang energy between heaven and earth is sealed away, and yin energy rises. It’s suitable for nourishment and rest, for relaxing the mind, not for exhausting the spirit and worrying. If the mind is chaotic, it hinders cultivation.”

Song Qian Ji glanced at him, his gaze still gentle despite the biting winter wind. “Set aside other matters for now. Let’s celebrate the festival.”

Wei Ping suddenly felt as if he were standing naked in the snow, his restlessness exposed with nowhere to hide.

He lowered his head: “Alright, I understand.”

Thousand Channels County would celebrate the Harvest Festival. Work on canals, mountain roads, and bridges would pause. People returned to their villages and, under the organization of the Agricultural and Works Officials, prepared for the Harvest Festival competition.

“I heard the prizes will be awarded by Celestial Official Song himself. Is that true?”

“As true as real gold! If you win first place, you can even shake hands with Celestial Official Song!”

Not only was all of Thousand Channels as jubilant as if celebrating the New Year, but the neighboring Hong Fu County’s Celestial Official Liu also sent congratulatory messages. Wei Ping traveled to Hong Fu to purchase fireworks and firecrackers, invited dragon and lion dance troupes, and persuaded Hong Fu County to send three teams to participate in the exhibition, so everyone could celebrate together.

The day before the grand ceremony, businesses on the main street temporarily closed. Long tables were set up on both sides of the street, with representatives from each village displaying their local specialty crops. Some tables held grain, others potted tree saplings.

A large stage was erected in the center of Thousand Channels Market, where Ji Xing practiced announcing.

The young woman’s voice was crisp and pleasant, like a happy magpie heralding spring:

“Zone A, Table One: Xiao Lan Village’s ‘The River Workers Came Home to Plant Wheat’ team, submitting two stones of wheat for the competition. Please come to the stage to display.”

“Zone A, Table Two: Qu River Village’s ‘Love Sweeter Than Sugarcane Juice’ team, submitting ten jin of sugarcane for the competition. Representatives, please come up to cut sugarcane.”

“Hua Gang Village’s ‘Greener Than Hats’ team, submitting eight carrying poles of mung beans for the competition.”

Ji Chen showed a complex expression:

“Brother Wei, this is too…” He wanted to say it lacked propriety but couldn’t bring himself to. “When Brother Meng returns, he’ll surely say we’re not being proper!”

“Then let him come back!” Wei Ping clenched a piece of licorice between his teeth, squatting on a pillar by the stage, looking at people irreverently. “Let him come back and grab my collar, curse me as a bastard, say I’m worthless—but where is he?”

“You…” Ji Chen was stunned, seemingly frightened by his attitude.

“I’m joking.” Wei Ping returned to normal, jumped down from the pillar, and cheerfully put his arm around Ji Chen’s shoulder. “Since he’s not here, we should organize the Harvest Festival well. Look at all these people coming to participate in the rehearsal—aren’t they happy? Who says competitions must be formal? If everything were as ethereal as the Imperial Court Assembly, without any earthly joy or noise, what would be the point?”

Ji Chen pondered for a moment: “You make sense. Our Thousand Channels festival can’t be as dull as those cultivation world assemblies.”

“Look over there,” Wei Ping pointed at people chatting with Hong Fu participants. “They’re all wearing new cotton robes and new hats of the same style. What’s the biggest difference between Thousand Channels people and Hong Fu people?”

Ji Chen was bewildered: “The accent?”

Wei Ping shook his head.

“Complexion? Hong Fu people seem a bit fairer?”

Wei Ping still shook his head.

“Then what is it?”

“It’s their backs. Hong Fu people stand straighter.”

Ji Chen marveled: “You can even notice that?”

Wei Ping said: “When the back has been bent for too long, it’s hard to straighten.”

He gradually realized that Thousand Channels people were always cautious about happiness and joy, as if afraid to openly celebrate good fortune they felt they had stolen, afraid to laugh loudly.

“They need to truly be happy for once. They deserve to truly be happy for once.” Wei Ping’s voice suddenly lowered. “Whoever dares to spoil this, I’ll have their life!”

That night, Song Qian Ji reclined in a lounge chair, watching the stars.

On this tranquil winter night, the edge of the night sky showed a faint red. The stars were sparser than in summer but brighter.

Wei Ping brought thirty people through the back door of the Celestial Official’s Mansion. Song Qian Ji casually greeted them: “Here for questions and answers?”

But Wei Ping said:

“Tomorrow, Thousand Channels Market will be crowded and lively, difficult to manage. These are the guards I’ve secretly selected for sir.”

When selecting and training people, Wei Ping hadn’t chosen the innocent Ji Xing or the easygoing Xu and Qiu, but rather the more resilient Zhou Xiao Yun.

The others were also from hunting teams and had journeyed with Song Qian Ji from the Hua Wei Sect. When told they would protect Senior Brother Song closely, their expressions turned serious, suppressing excitement.

Song Qian Ji understood: “To prevent crowd trampling?”

Wei Ping shook his head: “I’ve selected and trained a city defense team from the canal workers to guide the crowd flow. These people are specifically to accompany and protect you, the Celestial Official.”

Song Qian Ji was puzzled: “I don’t need guards. Thank you for your efforts, but please go back.”

Keeping a group of people around—are they protecting me, or am I protecting them?

It was absurd.

Finding guards for Song Qian Ji? What “great genius” came up with such a ridiculous idea?

Wei Ping earnestly said: “I think you need them!”

He signaled to Zhou Xiao Yun with his eyes.

Zhou Xiao Yun took the lead in shouting a slogan: “Protect Senior Brother Song! Protect Thousand Channels County!”

All thirty people shouted together, their voices deep and powerful.

In the end, Song Qian Ji silently accepted Wei Ping’s arrangement.

One hesitates to refuse those who feed them. After all, having eaten countless nine-grid meals, he was willing to make small accommodations as long as the other didn’t do anything too outrageous.