“Bang, bang!”

Fireworks burst in succession, thousands of strands scattering, like a magnificent, brilliant meteor shower.

At the steps of Song Estate, He Qing Qing and Chen Hong Zhu both looked up.

The cold wind carried a faint smell of gunpowder. The night sky changed colors—before one bloom faded, another ignited, brilliant gold or emerald green, crimson red or silvery white.

The light cast upon their faces made them appear otherworldly one moment, and sacred the next.

“If not for your engagement ceremony, I wouldn’t have seen such beautiful fireworks,” He Qing Qing sighed.

“Though fireworks are beautiful, they vanish in an instant, leaving only smoke,” Chen Hong Zhu hadn’t finished speaking when someone called loudly from beyond the small path: “Young Mistress, we shouldn’t disturb you, but you must return now. You still need to prepare for tomorrow’s ceremony.”

Chen Hong Zhu frowned slightly and shouted: “What’s the hurry?!”

The outer courtyard fell silent for a moment, then another voice sounded: “Young Mistress, please don’t make things difficult for us. Young Master Wei has personally come to escort you.”

Footsteps approached in disarray. Chen Hong Zhu jumped onto the peach tree and took a look.

Not only were the steward and attendants present, but also people from the Discipline Hall and Enforcement Hall. Over twenty people clustered together, as if afraid she might run away. It wasn’t clear whether they had come to escort or to apprehend her.

He Qing Qing whispered: “He’s arrived, hasn’t he?”

Chen Hong Zhu’s eyes brightened, and she clapped her hands with a laugh: “Yes, if not for his arrival, why would they behave this way?”

Her voice suddenly lowered, “Actually, at a time like this, I—I would rather he didn’t come.”

“Since he has come, I must go see him,” He Qing Qing smiled.

Chen Hong Zhu couldn’t help but show surprise in her eyes.

She discovered that He Qing Qing had not only shed all signs of timidity but was now a hundred times bolder than ordinary female cultivators.

“If Miao Yan knew, she would be furious,” Chen Hong Zhu said.

The higher a female cultivator’s status in the Celestial Sound Sect, the more rules she had to follow. Miao Yan would never meet with a male cultivator in the dead of night without visiting cards or proper announcements.

He Qing Qing said: “My grandmother’s old illness has flared up. My master, Immortal Jiang Yun, and Miao Yan’s master, Immortal Wang Shu, have both stayed at Celestial Sound Sect to attend to her. I am Miao Yan’s senior sister. Where a senior sister goes and whom she meets, a junior sister cannot control.”

“I used to dislike Miao Yan, but now I feel she must have many difficulties too,” Chen Hong Zhu sighed lightly.

“I know what you want to say. As long as she doesn’t block my path, I don’t wish to make things difficult for her. There are already too many enemies before me. If she’s willing to step back a bit, I won’t even notice her.”

He Qing Qing smiled, her exquisite face showing vibrant colors under the fireworks’ light, reminding Chen Hong Zhu of a mountain spirit that had taken human form.

Recalling certain rumors about the senior sister of Celestial Sound Sect, and looking at the young woman beside her, she felt the night wind growing colder.

The fireworks had dispersed, but the full moon remained.

“Is it worth it?” Chen Hong Zhu asked.

He Qing Qing didn’t answer: “Each person can only walk their path. Once on the road, one cannot turn back.”

Chen Hong Zhu thought, that after the sages had successively retreated or perished, the cultivation world was destined to see the old fall and the new rise. Who could predict the future?

Tonight’s fireworks and moonlight, once gone, would never return.

What about herself?

Where would she go from here?

Outside, the urging voices rose again, a jumble of sounds, as the chaotic lantern lights approached.

“I want to see him too!” Chen Hong Zhu suddenly said, looking into He Qing Qing’s eyes, “Not tomorrow at the ceremony in Qian Kun Hall, but tonight—right now!”

…

To prevent Song Qian Ji from building relationships with other guests, the guest quarters assigned to his group were extremely remote.

So remote that when Song Qian Ji pushed open the window, he could only see the stark white snow on the cliff edge.

Mountains face each other in emptiness, as lonely as the snow.

Other sects and families, like Purple Cloud Taoist Temple, Green Cliff Academy, Red Leaf Temple, and Celestial Sound Sect, could see the beautiful view of five-colored carp leaping in the Cloud Sea Formation.

Great families like the Wei, Zhao, and Ji clans could see Yao Guang Lake, which in deep winter froze as smooth as a mirror.

During the Deng Wen Assembly, when the Chess Ghost, Calligraphy Saint, and Qin Immortal had suddenly arrived, Hua Wei Sect had felt tremendous pressure, even Sect Leader Virtual Cloud had been troubled about the arrangements.

Having once been a cautious and nervous host, this time they finally felt proudly relieved, truly experiencing the home field advantage.

Do you want to let Song Qian Ji see something? Let him see snow!

Meng He Ze was busy checking utensils, testing tea and snacks for poison, and making beds.

Ji Chen jumped up and down with his formation disk, spinning like a top.

Song Qian Ji: “No need to be so busy, we’re only staying one night.”

Ji Chen didn’t stop what he was doing: “What if assassins come in the middle of the night?”

Lin Fei Yuan lazily raised his hand: “The assassin is right here, stop shouting.”

Meng He Ze passed by and punched him: “You’re quite proud of that, aren’t you?”

When no outsiders were present, Lin Fei Yuan still maintained his disguise and concealed his cultivation level, yet he sprawled comfortably on Song Qian Ji’s lounger:

“Hey, that Liu Immortal Official from Hong Fu County is staying in Cheng Ping Palace. Letting you stay in this broken tile house—you’re both territorial Immortal Officials, and you’re even a Nascent Soul cultivator. Isn’t this bullying?”

“Isn’t this place nice?” Song Qian Ji asked, standing under the eaves, watching crystal icicles gleaming in the moonlight.

Snow water dripped from the tips of the icicles, splashing into water droplets, congealing into frost, and transforming into scattered jade-like ice crystals.

He found it comfortable to look at, with only one regret—why hadn’t they planted some cold-resistant flowers, herbs, or vegetables in such a good place?

“Fine, if you say it’s good, then it’s good,” Lin Fei Yuan leaped onto the eaves. Two or three icicles in front of Song Qian Ji fell, shattering into seven or eight ice petals.

Lin Fei Yuan called to Meng He Ze and Ji Chen, “All of you, go rest. I’ll be on the roof tonight.”

Ji Chen blinked his big eyes and asked: “What will you do on the roof all night? Watch the moon?”

Lin Fei Yuan said irritably: “We assassins have no night!”

Meng He Ze snorted lightly: “If you want to keep watch, just say so. Let’s go; he’s the chief assassin, no assassin can get in.”

Ji Chen stubbornly walked outside the courtyard gate, placing the last formation material, ensuring the formation was complete.

Looking up, he suddenly cried out: “Who says no assassins! Aren’t there two… oh, friends from Celestial Sound Sect have arrived? My apologies.”

The two maids wore lake-blue dresses of Celestial Sound Sect, with lowered eyes, carrying blue gauze lanterns.

From a distance, they looked like two ghostly fires floating out of the darkness.

Behind the maids, a woman wore a magnificent hollyhock-red ceremonial dress, her head slightly lowered.

“Ah, Immortal He, please come in.” Ji Chen had seen He Qing Qing in Thousand Channels County and knew she had come to find Song Qian Ji.

The two maids stood on either side of the courtyard gate, holding lanterns and waiting.

The young woman remained silent, lowering her head as she crossed the threshold, hurriedly passing by the laughing guard unit disciples, and walking into Song Qian Ji’s courtyard.

“Immortal He, how did you…” Ji Chen sensed something strange, looked closely, and suddenly cried out, “Who are you?!”

Two shadows flashed, and with a clang, the small courtyard gate closed. Lin and Meng had positioned themselves front and back, blocking the visitor’s retreat path.

The young woman spoke: “I’ve taken a disguise pill; it will only last for one cup of tea’s time.”

“You are…” Meng He Ze found this voice extremely familiar.

“Greetings, Daoist Chen,” Song Qian Ji’s voice sounded.

Ji Chen suddenly clapped his hands, extremely excited: “I knew I wasn’t wrong!”

Brother Song and Miss Chen indeed had feelings for each other.

Ji Chen had learned many noble family protocols since childhood, but Song Qian Ji was an exception to him. He felt that if Brother Song killed someone, he would help bury the body. If Brother Song eloped with a female cultivator tonight under flowers and moonlight to escape marriage or publicly snatched the bride in Qian Kun Hall tomorrow morning, he would help with that too.

Meng He Ze glanced at him and said coldly: “Control those chaotic thoughts in your mind.”

Ji Chen exclaimed in surprise: “How do you know what I’m thinking?”

Song Qian Ji went inside and poured a cup of hot tea.

Chen Hong Zhu lowered her head and followed him in, breathing rapidly, her heart almost leaping out of her chest.

She couldn’t help but blame herself for being impulsive.

Only when Song Qian Ji handed her the tea did she feel her stiff, cold fingertips gradually warm up.

Song Qian Ji opened the door. He also opened all the windows, letting in a stretch of bright moonlight.

He said to Ji Chen: “Light the lamps.”

Ji Chen lit a small candle at the corner of the table.

The room wasn’t large; the candle was enough for illumination, just a bit dim and hazy.

Song Qian Ji looked at him: “Light all the lamps.”

In an instant, doors and windows were wide open, bright lamps shone high, and the room was as bright as day.

A noble female cultivator on the eve of her engagement had disguised herself as someone else to come here.

Moreover, Song Qian Ji had a reputation for being romantic. Lin Fei Yuan, accustomed to being unruly, initially wanted to make a few casual jokes.

But Song Qian Ji had set up such a serious atmosphere, without a trace of a frivolous smile on his face.

Lin Fei Yuan suddenly felt joking would be inappropriate and patted Ji Chen’s shoulder: “Get to work, what are you looking at? Aren’t you going to test your formation?”

“Will you test it with me?” Ji Chen immediately became interested.

Chen Hong Zhu silently swallowed a mouthful of the coarse tea.

It was the same familiar, bad-tasting tea she had first tried at Song Estate.

But this time she didn’t cough. She didn’t know what to say at this moment.

He Qing Qing seemed to possess a fearless power; after speaking with her briefly, Chen Hong Zhu felt bewitched. She had nervously evaded all the patrolling disciples, and dizzily, excitedly came here.

She regretted not coming but also regretted coming. Chen Hong Zhu looked outside; she had always been proud. If someone were to tease or joke about her now, she would probably want to draw her sword and kill them.

Fortunately, the three people around Song Qian Ji were very calm and acted as if they didn’t notice, continuing with their own business.

It was as if she hadn’t rushed here in the night, but had simply met Song Qian Ji on the road and exchanged a few words.

Chen Hong Zhu finally let out a long breath, but her eyes suddenly reddened.

Song Qian Ji took out a handkerchief: “Don’t cry.”

Though outwardly calm, his heart was racing with panic. Don’t cry, please don’t cry.

Fortunately, Chen Hong Zhu didn’t take it, instead glaring at him: “I’m not crying! Am I crying?”

Under the candlelight, her face was unusually pale.

“Alright, alright, I apologize,” Song Qian Ji said helplessly. “Daoist Chen, why have you come so late at night?”

Chen Hong Zhu lowered her head: “I wanted to see you. I should resent you, yet I’ve come to thank you.”

“It is I who should thank you,” Song Qian Ji said, “For little Meng—ahem, Meng He Ze’s matter, thank you.”

Chen Hong Zhu suddenly became angry, as if about to crack a whip: “You think I did it for you? That you need to show gratitude?!”

It seemed that every time they met, she would say a few words and then get angry.

“Of course not for me, nor do I expect your gratitude,” Song Qian Ji said calmly.

“Good that you know! Hey, I just saw Miss He.”

Song Qian Ji nodded. It was expected that the Celestial Sound Sect would attend the banquet.

Chen Hong Zhu didn’t look at Song Qian Ji, turning her head to look out the window: “I’m not afraid of you laughing, but looking at her, then at myself, I think that the good times in a person’s life are limited. In my youth, I got whatever wind or rain I wanted, having enjoyed all the benefits…”

Outside the window were withered trees, decaying grass, desolate mountains, and accumulated snow.

Chen Hong Zhu said: “Now it’s as if spring has passed and winter has come. In this vast white snow, red flowers will never bloom again.”

“Though it’s winter, whether a flower is willing to bloom, one must still try,” Song Qian Ji smiled.

Chen Hong Zhu didn’t understand: “How to try?”

She immediately smiled too. This was just a metaphor, expressing emotions through scenery. Song Qian Ji was slow-witted and didn’t seem to understand her meaning.

Without waiting for his answer, Chen Hong Zhu said: “I should go. Tomorrow, be—be careful.”

There wasn’t much more to say; this adventure was over.

Song Qian Ji saw her out.

Chen Hong Zhu looked back and saw him standing in the snow wearing his brand new ceremonial robe, his posture straight, with long sleeves hanging down, adorned with elaborate patterns.

The qualities of “plain and gentle” and “aloof and remote” were marvelously blended in him.

After Chen Hong Zhu had gone far, Lin Fei Yuan said: “What flirting with flowers and willows, what romantic reputation—it’s all fake. This man is utterly boring.”

Meng He Ze said coldly: “Senior Brother Song has a gentleman’s demeanor. What would someone like you know?”

Lin Fei Yuan always upheld the principle of “I can mock myself, but others can’t mock me,” and immediately challenged: “Someone like me? What kind of person am I? Say it.”

Ji Chen honestly tried to mediate: “Stop arguing, you two.”

…

Wei Zhan Yang walked reluctantly on the path toward Worry-Free Palace, occasionally examining the woman beside him.

Because of the incident at Passing Water Bridge during the day, some gossip had spread.

His father had told him to escort Chen Hong Zhu and say a few soft words to show his affection, and he had no choice but to comply.

The two walked in silence. When passing Yao Guang Lake, he decided to speak first.

“Hong Zhu,” he coughed lightly. The people behind them deliberately kept their distance, giving them space to be alone.

The young woman in the white cloak suddenly stopped and transmitted her voice: “You may go. No need to escort me further.”

Wei Zhan Yang was stunned, feeling the voice familiar, and turned pale with shock: “Immortal Qing Qing, it’s you?!”

“Shh—” He Qing Qing raised her index finger to her crimson lips and softly transmitted: “You won’t tell anyone about this, right?”

Wei Zhan Yang waved to those behind him, indicating they should move even further away.

His eyes flashed with excitement, his face flushed red: “Of course, of course! I know Immortal Qing Qing is doing this all for me.”

He Qing Qing thought to herself, what on earth is he talking about?

But Wei Zhan Yang thought, she risks disguising herself as my fiancée to meet me secretly at night, how deep her feelings must be! We must have fallen in love at first sight, our feelings mutual!

Under the moonlight, Yao Guang Lake was extremely beautiful, its glassy ice surface covered with lingering cold mist.

The stone pavilion in the center of the lake was like a pearl, with jade-like trees along both shores. The person beside him seemed enveloped in immortal clouds.

The world was dressed in silver, a fine night with snow scenery—who wouldn’t be enchanted?

“People say Immortal Miao Yan is the world’s most beautiful woman. But I find her unreal, with the same expression always, like observing a lake from clouds, seeing not the lake and mountains, but only cold mist,” Wei Zhan Yang found courage and continued, “Immortal Qing Qing, I must tell you, you are the most—most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

“You like this face of mine?” He Qing Qing said softly.

“Of course not just your face; how could I be so superficial?”

Wei Zhan Yang’s thoughts raced. Chen Hong Zhu was favored, and Hua Wei Sect could provide spirit stone mines as her dowry.

But Chen Hong Zhu had no real power. After marriage, Hua Wei Sect’s affairs would still be controlled by the Virtual Cloud.

Compared to that, Celestial Sound Sect was certainly better, and Senior Sister He Qing Qing even more so.

Fortunately, the engagement ceremony hadn’t yet taken place; it wasn’t too late to back out!

“Tonight I’ll go back and inform my father, and tomorrow I’ll break off the engagement!” Wei Zhan Yang said excitedly.

He Qing Qing was somewhat surprised but more confused: “You want to break off the engagement?”

“For the sake of the Immortal, I am willing to face any difficulty.”

He Qing Qing suddenly laughed loudly, her voice shaking the accumulated snow from the branches.

Wei Zhan Yang’s face turned pale: “Lower your voice, don’t let people discover you’re not Hong Zhu.”

He Qing Qing glanced at him, and before turning to leave, she smiled lightly: “With just this much courage, you still want to break off an engagement?”