The day before the grand ceremony, the weather was clear.

Virtual Cloud Sect’s senior disciple Yuan Qing Shi led the inner disciples to welcome guests at the mountain gate.

Sect Leader Virtual Cloud True Person and the various peak masters sat in Qian Kun Hall, smiling as they drank wine and listened to music.

The Passing Water Bridge was covered with fiery red smoke-glow satin, extending to the main peak.

“The engagement ceremony is held at Hua Wei Sect, but when it’s time for the wedding ceremony, it will be held at the Wei family’s ancestral home.”

“In the blink of an eye, Hong Zhu has grown up.”

They spoke of Chen Hong Zhu as if they deeply cared for her, yet she was still in the Discipline Hall and would only be allowed out tonight.

Wei Zhan Yang, dressed in a brilliant golden ceremonial robe, led a group of Wei family members, standing at the head of Passing Water Bridge to receive the guests’ blessings.

The rituals were complex, and the congratulatory words were boring. He smiled until his jaw stiffened, and just as he began to feel light-headed, he suddenly heard the Hua Wei Sect’s young attendant announce loudly:

“Celestial Sound Sect has arrived—”

Everyone instantly became alert, turning their heads in unison.

It was as if a spring breeze had caressed their faces, bringing waves of flower fragrance, and refreshing everyone’s spirits.

“That’s… that’s Immortal Miao Yan,” someone murmured, “We’re all blessed by Zhan Yang’s good fortune.”

Miao Yan was not only beautiful but also otherworldly and transcendent.

She was slender and tall, today wearing a lake-water blue gauze dress that reached her ankles.

As she moved with light lotus steps, the hem of her dress rippled like water waves, resembling a Chinese ink painting.

A lone boat in light rain, with water so tranquil it gave birth to mist.

People were stunned, but not just because of her.

Many were seeing the woman beside Miao Yan for the first time.

Her skin was like jade, her lips like cinnabar, her features were rich but not seductive; rather, with her long eyebrows and straight nose, she possessed a certain heroic spirit.

Her magnificent dress trailed the ground, her hair was piled high, and her golden hairpin sparkled under the sunlight.

Appearing suddenly before them, she was like a peony painted in rich, heavy colors.

The two women were originally equally matched, with their distinct charms.

But all the female cultivators behind Miao Yan emulated her style, with similar dress designs and colors.

At a glance, in this extended ink painting scroll, a single peony bloomed fiercely, dominating the scene.

As a result, the ink colors faded, and one could only see the peony.

“I knew there were thousands of beauties and myriad splendors in this world, but I never knew there was such a beauty,” Wei Zhan Yang murmured, “Pity I must marry Chen Hong Zhu.”

“Immortal Miao Yan is indeed unparalleled,” someone beside him said.

Wei Zhan Yang shook his head: “I’ve seen Miao Yan before. I’m looking at the beauty beside her.”

The person next to him disagreed: “Though she’s beautiful, she’s cold as ice, without a trace of a smile on her face, far inferior to Immortal Miao Yan’s gentle perfection. If I could choose, of course, Immortal Miao Yan would be better!”

Although they were over ten paces away and speaking very softly and discreetly, they weren’t using voice transmission.

He Qing Qing’s ears twitched slightly, her gaze shifting to glance at the ever-composed Miao Yan.

With cultivators’ keen hearing and sight, she knew Miao Yan could hear just like everyone else, but pretended not to.

It seemed in the cultivation world, it was tacitly accepted that when commenting on female cultivators, there was no need for voice transmission; speaking softly and avoiding direct conversation was sufficient.

He Qing Qing suddenly turned cold-faced, used the ground-shrinking technique, and in one step appeared before the crowd.

“Ah!” The maid behind her exclaimed in surprise, hurrying to follow.

Miao Yan’s expression changed, halting her steps with slightly furrowed brows.

The Celestial Sound Sect procession had no choice but to stop.

Everyone was startled, not knowing what she intended to do. The one who had compared Miao Yan and He Qing Qing was especially alarmed.

He Qing Qing said: “Fellow Daoist, have you visited Hua Wei Sect’s Yao Guang Lake? It freezes in winter, smooth as a mirror.”

“N-not yet. What do you mean, Immortal?”

“You should hurry and look in a mirror,” He Qing Qing shook her head, “See what you look like.”

“You!” The person understood her meaning, his face flushing red, “As a disciple of Celestial Sound Sect, how can you speak such crude words!”

Female cultivators of the Celestial Sound Sect had always modeled themselves after Immortal Miao Yan. When had such an anomaly appeared?

He Qing Qing said: “My master doesn’t even control how I speak, so how can you presume to discipline me?”

“Immortal, I apologize for the offense just now,” Wei Zhan Yang bowed, “I ask for your forgiveness.”

He Qing Qing turned to examine him: “So you’re Chen Hong Zhu’s fiancé? What are you laughing at?”

He was originally annoyed that she showed no regard for his face, but knowing he was in the wrong, he had no choice but to publicly demonstrate his good manners.

But when the beauty smiled, the sharp blade and sword aura turned into a gentle ribbon around her finger, and he was momentarily stunned.

He Qing Qing smiled and said: “I hear your copy of the ‘Hero’s Note’ is already quite similar now.”

At the previous Deng Wen Literary Assembly’s calligraphy test, if not for Song Qian Ji’s Hero’s Note, Wei Zhan Yang’s stone wall inscription would have been the most impressive.

The Calligraphy Saint had invited all candidates to view the writing samples at the Pluck Stars Platform. Wei Zhan Yang had been forced to acknowledge the superiority, and returned home to practice diligently on the four verses of fragmentary poetry, finally achieving an uninterrupted flow with characters identical to the original note.

This was to prove he was not inferior to Song Qian Ji.

Now hearing the beautiful woman’s laughing inquiry, Wei Zhan Yang was quite pleased with himself and coughed lightly:

“The Hero’s Note isn’t difficult. If the Immortal likes it, I can write it for you to see.”

He Qing Qing’s smile deepened, and she spoke quickly in a low voice:

“You don’t like Chen Hong Zhu, yet you dare not defy the engagement—this shows a lack of courage.”

“You want to be the Wei family’s young master, yet have no method beyond this political marriage—this shows a lack of strategy.”

“Such a person without courage or strategy needn’t bother learning any ‘Hero’s Note.'”

At first glance, the two appeared to be chatting pleasantly, but those standing beside Wei Zhan Yang heard clearly and immediately exploded with anger: “How dare you!”

But they were blocked by Wei Zhan Yang’s sword.

He Qing Qing had already turned to leave after speaking. Wei Zhan Yang called out: “Immortal, please wait, I don’t yet know…”

He Qing Qing looked back at him, her eyes narrowing slightly.

The trembling maid behind her called: “Senior Sister.”

“Senior Sister Qing Qing,” Miao Yan’s voice opportunely rang out.

“Let’s go,” He Qing Qing turned and left, her skirt following the wind, without a trace of lingering attachment.

Wei Zhan Yang watched her cross Passing Water Bridge until she was hidden by clouds and mist, vanishing from sight.

He murmured in a daze: “So she’s the Senior Sister of Celestial Sound Sect, He Qing Qing. I’ve heard that most of Celestial Sound Sect’s spirit stone mines are now managed by her. She’s also trained a group of outer disciples as her loyal subordinates. No wonder she fears nothing.”

“You’ve always been proud. Being insulted by a female cultivator of your generation to your face, aren’t you angry?” someone beside him pushed him quietly.

Wei Zhan Yang said: “You don’t understand. That she would speak so many words to me must mean she treats me differently, wanting to attract my attention. Otherwise, with so many people watching her, why didn’t she acknowledge others but especially come to speak with me?”

“If not for Immortal Miao Yan stopping her, she might have hit you. How is that treating you differently? Didn’t you say you disliked arrogant cultivators like Chen Hong Zhu?”

“But she’s too beautiful, that’s what is meant by ‘only the peony is truly the national color,’ and ‘even without feelings, one moves people,'” Wei Zhan Yang said, lost in thought.

…

As the day’s bustling activities ended, the moon quietly hung over the wall.

Hua Wei Sect had not yet recruited its new batch of outer disciples, so the outer disciple dormitory was as silent as a tomb.

The small path of Song Estate was deserted, with patchy traces of unmelted snow among the wild overgrowth.

That door was locked, its red lacquer faded, and the copper ring turned green with rust.

Chen Hong Zhu left the Discipline Hall. She should have returned to Glass Palace but somehow wandered here instead.

She saw the old, twisted branches of the peach tree casting shadows on the white wall, their lines sharp and desolate.

On the wall was also the silhouette of a woman, gentle and graceful.

Chen Hong Zhu stopped. Someone had arrived before her.

The person wore a magnificent hollyhock-red dress, her black hair gleaming in the moonlight, flowing like a waterfall over her shoulders and back.

Chen Hong Zhu felt this silhouette somewhat familiar. Just as she was about to speak, the woman turned around:

“We meet again.”

“It’s you,” Chen Hong Zhu didn’t recognize the face but remembered the voice.

She hesitated before speaking: “Greetings, Immortal He.”

He Qing Qing stood before the steps of Song Estate, giving Chen Hong Zhu a sense of seas turning to mulberry fields, stars shifting positions.

It was as if yesterday they had still been sitting side by side on the stone steps, waiting for someone.

“I, I believe in him. If he asks me to wait, I will wait.”

“I bet he won’t return tonight, so I’ll wait too.”

Now the peach blossoms had fallen, and the stone steps were covered with green moss.

The world was unpredictable.

This time, that time.

Only the bright moon over Song Estate’s wall remained the same; the green mountains remained as before.

He Qing Qing also examined Chen Hong Zhu. The latter was not wearing her previous red clothes but a white robe, entirely plain, without a single pearl hairpin in her hair—not looking like a cultivator about to be engaged the next day.

Chen Hong Zhu said softly: “I heard you scolded someone today on Passing Water Bridge.”

He Qing Qing was unconcerned: “I did scold them. Are you upset?”

A few words of verbal sparring wouldn’t normally spread so widely. But rebuking the fiancé before the engagement ceremony seemed disrespectful to both Hua Wei Sect and Chen Hong Zhu.

Chen Hong Zhu shook her head: “No, Miss He. I know your good intentions, and I appreciate them.”

He Qing Qing felt moved: “You understand, which makes our previous time here, sharing the same moonlight, not in vain.”

Chen Hong Zhu remained silent.

They had only met a few times, and with different positions, they could hardly be called friends.

But today, while others offered endless congratulations, only He Qing Qing spoke a word on her behalf.

He Qing Qing suddenly asked: “Do you think he will come?”

Chen Hong Zhu said: “I’ve heard he’s living very freely in Thousand Channels. If I were him, I definitely wouldn’t come.”

Why walk willingly into a trap, seeking trouble?

Tomorrow was the ceremony, and all the guests had already checked in, but Song Qian Ji had not yet arrived.

Chen Hong Zhu didn’t want to hope: “Even if he came, what difference would it make?”

“I believe he will come,” He Qing Qing smiled, “Want to make a bet?”

Chen Hong Zhu seemed to return to the past, proudly raising her head: “Let’s bet.”

“Bang!”

Beyond the green mountains, a red firework rose into the night sky, blooming brilliantly.

He Qing Qing and Chen Hong Zhu both turned to look.

…

Tonight, Hua Wei City was a city that never slept.

The Sect Leader of Hua Wei Sect had ordered fireworks to be set off all night in the city, celebrating Chen Hong Zhu’s engagement tomorrow.

Thousand Channels County’s Heavenly City was originally modeled after Hua Wei City, with similar street layouts.

Ji Chen wanted to see Hua Wei City’s formations, and the other guard unit disciples also wanted to enter the city to join the festivities.

The Seven Perfections Treasure Ship was put away outside the city, and Song Qian Ji’s group walked at a leisurely pace, eating and drinking along the way.

The city was brightly lit with lanterns, and the streets were packed with people. Wandering cultivators from all regions had come to join in the excitement.

Ji Chen, with his playful nature, put his arm around Song Qian Ji’s shoulder, calling out excitedly, and enthusiastically greeting every passerby: “Congratulations, congratulations to all!”

Song Qian Ji found it amusing—those who knew it was Chen Hong Zhu’s engagement might think Ji Chen was the groom.

Meng He Ze remained vigilant, standing straight, one hand on his sword.

Lin Fei Yuan disguised himself as an ordinary disciple, slightly hunched, inconspicuously blending into Song Qian Ji’s guard unit. But his expression was calm, his eyes scanning every passerby.

When Meng He Ze’s gaze occasionally met his, he felt a subtle sense of mutual understanding.

The relationship between the two had softened, all thanks to Ji Chen.

By the time they reached the foot of Hua Wei Sect, the mountain gate was about to close.

Disciples from the Discipline Enforcement Hall carried gauze lanterns to welcome late-arriving guests:

“Keep your invitation in hand, it will be checked.”

“Those arriving late, line up at the back, no cutting in line.”

The major sects and families that required warm hospitality had already checked in during the day. Those arriving now were mostly from overseas sects, along with small sects affiliated with Hua Wei Sect, and representatives from small countries.

The inner disciples who came to welcome them brought their loungers, sitting lazily.

Cultivators outside the mountain gate obediently lined up, chatting idly, not in a hurry to rush.

Meng He Ze and the others looked to Song Qian Ji.

Song Qian Ji watched the fireworks in the sky and took his place at the end of the line.

The others lined up behind him.

A cultivator in front turned back to chat with him:

“Hey, do you think Song Qian Ji will come this time?”

Before Song Qian Ji could answer, someone further ahead in the line said:

“He even faced assassination attempts in Thousand Channels; would he dare to come out now?”

They naturally shifted to this topic:

“He didn’t die from the assassination and even broke through. I heard he captured the assassin but didn’t kill him. The assassin is locked up in Song Estate, barely maintaining human form, yet not allowed to die.”

“When assassins fail, they should self-detonate their Golden Core. Now that he’s fallen into the hands of his assassination target, naturally, he’s being severely tortured, subjected to various torments day and night to avenge that one sword strike.”

Ji Chen and Meng He Ze exchanged covert glances, sharing a look of schadenfreude.

No matter how Lin Fei Yuan freeloaded at Song Estate—singing, holding the cat, and acting like a lord—in others’ eyes, he had been severely punished.

Lin Fei Yuan hissed softly, rubbing his ears, silently cursing Wei Ping.

Those people’s stories grew increasingly outlandish. As they neared the mountain gate, the focus turned to Song Qian Ji:

“Killing someone should end with death; Song Qian Ji’s methods are excessively cruel.”

“People truly can’t be judged by appearances—a serene exterior hiding a dark, venomous heart.”

Lin Fei Yuan clenched his fists, suddenly lowering his head to walk quickly, but was grabbed by someone.

Song Qian Ji asked: “Where are you going?”

Lin Fei Yuan retorted: “Didn’t you hear what they said?!”

Song Qian Ji helplessly said: “Previously, dislocating your jaw was to make you drink medicine. Sealing your spiritual energy and binding your hands was to prevent you from moving and hurting yourself. I only placed silence talismans on you when you were talking nonsense, not intentionally tormenting you…”

“Why bring this up now!” Lin Fei Yuan said angrily, his voice quickly lowering, “Of course I know that.”

Song Qian Ji was puzzled: “Then why are you angry?”

“Who said I’m angry at you?” Lin Fei Yuan said, “I’m angry at their gossip, tarnishing your reputation.”

After the Deng Wen Assembly, Song Qian Ji’s reputation was excellent—a talented scholar, master of both qin and chess. Now he was the youngest Nascent Soul talent, yet people described him as a perverted sadist who enjoyed torturing others.

Lin Fei Yuan thought these people, unable to find real flaws, were making things up, spreading rumors just to satisfy their dark thoughts. How could they have the nerve to call themselves prestigious immortal sects?

But Song Qian Ji thought, I’m just a farmer, what do I need a reputation for?

If my reputation is too good, what if Xian Jian Chen comes looking for me?

“Such things don’t concern me,” he said.

Lin Fei Yuan was exasperated: “What if I care, is that alright? They’re talking about me like this, don’t I have face to save?”

Song Qian Ji nodded: “Very well, then.”

“What’s ‘very well’?” Lin Fei Yuan was stunned, seeing Song Qian Ji already walking forward, stopping those cultivators at the mountain gate, saying earnestly:

“Don’t create rumors, don’t spread rumors. Starting with each person, let’s make the cultivation world cleaner and more beautiful!”

Lin Fei Yuan leaned against a tree, roaring with laughter, instantly appeased.

That group of people was stunned, looking at each other in bewilderment.

One was the first to recover, cursing loudly: “Where are you from? What business is it of yours?”

“I’m also here to attend the banquet,” Song Qian Ji said.

Lin Fei Yuan anxiously patted the tree trunk. Release your Nascent Soul pressure! Slap them with your big hand! Song Qian Ji, what are you doing?!

The Discipline Enforcement Hall disciple raised the gauze lantern, illuminating Song Qian Ji’s face.

“It’s you!” A shocked exclamation came from within the mountain gate.

Everyone looked toward the sound. The speaker wore the robe of a Hua Wei Sect inner disciple. He had been welcoming other guests but was now trembling all over, pointing with one finger, “You’re Song Qian Ji!”

He turned his head to call out: “Quick, someone come, protect me.”

The atmosphere instantly changed. Song Qian Ji signaled Meng He Ze and the others not to move.

Zhao Ji Heng looked around, reassuring himself that this was Hua Wei Sect, filled with powerful experts, so he mustn’t show fear.

So he shouted, causing the accumulated snow on the trees to fall:

“Why have you come?!”

Song Qian Ji thought that, though a long time no see, this youngster still lacked some brains.

However, considering that he had once sent a lounger, and it had been very sturdy and comfortable, he smiled:

“You sent an invitation asking me to attend the banquet.”

Zhao Ji Heng’s face turned ashen, stammering: “Y-you dared to come to the banquet!”

Song Qian Ji: “Attending a banquet doesn’t cost money.”

“Song Qian Ji has arrived!”

—This news broke the deep night’s silence, awakening the entire Hua Wei Mountain.