“Has it already reached this point? Can things still be turned around?” Song Qian Ji cursed inwardly at the absurdity.

He wasn’t clear on the grudge between Ji Chen and the Ji family’s branch in his previous life, only vaguely having heard rumors:

After the fall of Immortal Master Ji, who had supported the Ji family, he left behind a son and a daughter.

These two were born into nobility, but unfortunately, the son Ji Chen was dull-witted, studying talisman arts for eight years with nothing to show for it. The daughter Ji Xing was frail, bedridden for years, and didn’t live past eighteen.

The family had no choice but to select Ji Guang from a branch family as the heir. The worthless Ji Chen, jealous of the talented Ji Guang, became enemies with the family, caused a scene, and disappeared.

A hundred years later, Ji Chen returned to his old home, having obtained the legacy of an evil formation master. With his power alone, he slaughtered the entire clan, causing a once-illustrious family to vanish.

Afterward, he became deranged, spending his days half-drunk. At first, some people spoke up for the Ji family’s downfall, but no one dared provoke a dangerous madman, so they could only avoid him.

One night, Ji Chen got heavily drunk and tried to pluck a star from the sky. He crashed into the Celestial Wall and was torn apart by the fierce winds and currents.

The stars hung beyond the Celestial Wall, and cultivators who hadn’t ascended couldn’t break through this barrier. This was basic knowledge in the cultivation world.

Ji Chen, a great formation master of his generation with countless souls perishing in his formations, died in such a bizarre and absurd manner.

“Flying to Pluck Stars” became a famous joke in the cultivation world for a time.

These stories reached Song Qian Ji’s ears because they were either shocking or too sensational.

In his previous life, Song Qian Ji was busy cultivating and traveling, naturally not knowing much about others’ gossip.

The Ji Chen he met was indeed rambling madly as the rumors suggested, even trapping him in a formation wanting to fight, but unwilling to engage in purposeless, meaningless conflict, he broke through the other’s formation and escaped using teleportation techniques.

In this life, however, Song Qian Ji had already met Ji Chen at the Renowned Literary Gathering.

During the painting and calligraphy test, Ji Chen was still an innocent young master from a wealthy family.

Although he was mocked as useless for failing to draw talismans, he remained optimistic, and self-deprecating, and even created a series of cynical motivational sayings for his amusement:

“The harder you try, the worse it gets. Don’t try, and it becomes easy.”

“Life is about participation. I excel at being last through genuine ability.”

“Though I’ve been unlucky lately, we must believe heaven rewards the wealthy. I still have a chance.”

Later, when Song Qian Ji taught him chess notation and formation arrangement, he abandoned his dejection, learning with extreme seriousness, and never slacking off.

If Song Qian Ji pointed at the moon in the sky and told him the moon was square, he would widen his eyes and say: “Looking carefully, it does seem a bit square. Brother Song is amazing.”

When Meng He Ze, Wei Ping, and Lin Fei Yuan were at daggers drawn, it was he who mediated.

The multiple formations of Song Academy and Qian Qu were also carefully arranged by him.

How could such a Ji Chen harbor jealousy and become enemies with his branch family brothers?

Moreover, although Ji Chen was wealthy, he didn’t value money highly. He only cared about his sister Ji Xing, so how could he resent the family property distribution so much that he would harbor hatred and exterminate the entire clan?

Most importantly, Ji Xing in Qian Qu was strong and healthy, having safely passed the age of eighteen. How could there be talk of her being bedridden and dying before eighteen?

Previously, when Wei Zhen Yu was compiling “360 Basic Facts of the Cultivation World,” he asked the Ji siblings for help, bribing Ji Xing with delicacies and using Ji Xing to torment Ji Chen.

Wei Zhen Yu said Ji Xing could eat three bowls of rice and six dishes by herself, and when she raised her fist, Ji Chen would run away with his head in his hands, begging his sister for mercy.

The previous life’s rumors had too many suspicious points and couldn’t be trusted at all.

In the blink of an eye, Song Qian Ji had already sorted through his thoughts. And Ji Chen’s voice sounded again:

“You all heard, this person says he’s my friend.”

He projected his voice so that everyone in the building could hear clearly.

The once-bustling wine house had fallen deadly silent, with seven or eight brief, light sounds breaking the silence.

Song Qian Ji knew without turning his head that these were the sounds of knives and swords being quietly unsheathed and magical artifacts being infused with spiritual energy.

The assembled cultivators were at the ready.

Ji Chen patted Song Qian Ji’s shoulder: “They want to kill me. As my only friend, you’ll certainly stand up for me, right? Otherwise, what kind of friend would you be?”

Song Qian Ji looked around: “These people can’t kill you.” Meeting those increasingly hostile gazes, he felt somewhat helpless and said quietly, “Stop making trouble.”

Ji Chen laughed heartily: “Did you all hear that? My friend also looks down on you!”

Though he spoke casually, his words were extremely mocking, making people’s anger surge and their blood rush to their heads.

Someone slammed the table and shouted: “Villain, don’t be so arrogant! The Ji family has accumulated virtue and done good deeds for many years. The family head is respected and virtuous, yet you threaten to exterminate his entire family. You’re simply deranged, insane, and demonic, not knowing the heights of heaven and depths of earth!”

Someone immediately echoed: “Being so arrogant, do you think White Phoenix County has no one capable?”

“Today we’ll kill Ji Chen and his accomplice, eliminating a threat to the cultivation world!”

Outside the window, the rain continued to fall, and the sky gradually darkened.

Spring in White Phoenix County was always like this, with continuous rainy days irritating people’s moods.

The patter of rain further encouraged the momentum within the building.

The crowd denounced Ji Chen’s crimes, emboldening each other with alcohol, their words grand and righteous.

As if they weren’t the ones who had just been drinking and making merry with Ji Chen, waiting for an opportunity to ambush him.

Song Qian Ji sighed: “It’s better if everyone returns home early. The rain is about to get heavier.”

In such weather, one should listen to the sound of plants drinking water, not people’s curses and shouts.

As soon as the words left his mouth, everyone looked at him in astonishment.

Could it be that after all their shouting, this person only heard the rain outside the window?

“What’s wrong with it getting heavier?” Someone suddenly responded, “Zhang Lu of the Spring Rain Sword from the Southern Continent asks for your guidance!”

The voice came from the first floor. A sword light, like a strand of rain, floated up.

With emotions running high, someone had to take the lead.

The first to strike naturally faced the greatest risk but would also gain the most attention.

In the future, when others spoke of this demon-slaying battle, they would always praise his bravery and fearlessness.

The sword light arrived before Song Qian Ji, aiming directly at his vital point.

The sword’s energy was swift, sharp, and cold, like the night rain outside arriving with the wind.

At the same time, two others, unwilling to fall behind, launched attacks—a crimson long knife and a silver chain—toward Song Qian Ji’s back.

“Having drawn your sword, there’s no need to announce your name,” Song Qian Ji’s hand gripped his sword hilt.

A sword cultivator’s sword was their identity.

Once the sword is drawn, the opponent should recognize it. Why need to speak it aloud?

The Spring Rain Sword took advantage of the rain’s momentum, making the most of the timing and terrain, enhancing the power of the long knife and chain of the other two.

With Ji Chen watching from the sidelines, Song Qian Ji seemed even more isolated and weak.

Everyone held their breath, about to watch them battle, but there was no battle.

“Boom!”

Only a thunderous explosion.

Dazzling light burst from Song Qian Ji’s scabbard, like lightning in the night sky or autumn waters under the moon.

Everyone instinctively closed their eyes for a moment. When they opened them, they saw the Spring Rain Sword released from its owner’s grasp, the long knife shattered, and the chain broken.

Three figures flew out together, crashing straight through the roof.

Beams collapsed, and tiles shattered.

Wind and rain poured in through the large hole in the roof, creating a desolate scene.

A single, lonely sword light had cut through three life-bound magical artifacts.

“The Solitary Light Sword Technique! He—he is Song Qian Ji!”

“Why is Song Qian Ji in White Phoenix County?”

“I heard he’s been collecting materials for forging recently, wanting to forge a life-bound treasure sword. The Phoenix Fire Seed unique to White Phoenix Mountain is a superior forging fire. He must have come for this and passed through here!”

A group of people transmitted messages while quietly slipping away in the darkness, wishing they had never entered the Phoenix Immortal Tower tonight.

They had come here either having received benefits from the Ji family or wanting to eliminate a threat to the cultivation world to make a name for themselves.

Some came to watch the excitement or harbored hopes of picking up scraps.

With no deep grudges, no one was willing to risk their lives.

After a brief panic, only a dozen or so people remained, all at the Nascent Soul stage and with old ties to the Ji family.

An elder calmly said: “Why has Your Excellency come to wade into these muddy waters? What benefits has Ji Chen promised you? Can we negotiate the price?”

Three people behind him bowed to Song Qian Ji with clasped hands, their attitude courteous.

Song Qian Ji sheathed his sword: “Ji Chen is my friend. Tonight is not about business. I must take him away.”

The elder pondered.

With the conversation reaching this point without coming to blows, it meant there was still room for negotiation.

“Clap, clap, clap!” A series of crisp applause sounded.

The original protagonist of the night leaned against the window frame, applauding and sincerely praising:

“As expected of the Undying in a Hundred Battles Song Qian Ji. To think I have such a formidable friend—it seems I won’t have to die tonight. You’ve come from afar, but what can you do to me now?”

Song Qian Ji’s vision darkened.

With Ji Chen provoking and taunting like this, there was no way a fight wouldn’t break out.

“The current head of the Ji family is also my friend!” The elder flew forward, striking a palm toward Ji Chen. “Do you think everyone fears Song Qian Ji?”

The other three were prepared, all attacking Ji Chen together.

To prevent Song Qian Ji from intervening, they moved extremely fast and with full force, aiming to kill with a single strike.

Song Qian Ji saw Ji Chen’s fingers move slightly and felt an inexplicable sinking in his heart. He shouted in alarm: “Don’t go near him!”

The four seemed not to hear and were already within two and a half feet of Ji Chen.

Ji Chen raised his hand, as if plucking a zither string, gently fingering something.

“Pat, pat, pat.”

Like raindrops falling on roof tiles, chunks of flesh and blood fell onto the floor.

Song Qian Ji couldn’t intervene in time and watched helplessly as the four were cut into pieces by countless transparent formation lines, turning into a pile of shredded meat, impossible to reconstruct into human form.

Not even a scream was heard.

“Sorry, I was bored earlier and strung a few lines,” Ji Chen moved his foot away, displeased that the blood had soiled his cloud-stepping boots.

The remaining cultivators, seeing this, revealed terror in their eyes and hastily bid farewell.

In such a situation, who would still care about the Ji family’s grudges?

In the devastated Phoenix Immortal Tower, only two people remained standing opposite each other.

Ji Chen still leaned against the window frame, his expression relaxed as if his feet were not piles of shredded flesh and broken bones but clusters of fresh flowers.

Song Qian Ji shouted angrily: “What are you doing?!”

What was wrong with Meng He Ze and Ji Chen in their previous lives?

One liked to smash people’s heads, the other liked to cut people into pieces.

When they got back to Qian Qu, they should all go pull mill stones in the fields—no grinding wheat grains, no eating.

Ji Chen smiled innocently: “Fighting your way would take forever. I never knew the Undying in a Hundred Battles Song Qian Ji was such a soft-hearted person.”

After speaking, he lightly pushed off with both hands, flipping out the window, disappearing into the night rain like a swallow.

…

“Weren’t you angry? Why are you still following me?”

Ji Chen looked back, and through the fine rain curtain, Song Qian Ji trailed not far behind him.

“I am your friend,” Song Qian Ji said again.

“Oh right, I almost forgot. Then follow if you wish.”

Despite his words, Ji Chen silently gathered his energy.

Two blurred figures chased each other in the rain.

A cultivator could go without sleep all night but couldn’t maintain high mental alertness constantly. They also needed to meditate, regulate their breath, and organize their spiritual energy.

Since Ji Chen entered the city, the Ji family had sent people to track him every night, but they could never keep up and never discovered where he was staying.

Ji Chen was somewhat proud until tonight when he met Song Qian Ji, whom he couldn’t shake off.

He was a formation master, his understanding of space surpassing other cultivators. Why was Song Qian Ji’s teleportation technique and movement superior to his?

Ji Chen looked back, showing an annoyed expression for the first time: “You can still keep up? Aren’t you tired?”

Song Qian Ji said leisurely: “This is my first visit to White Phoenix County and White Phoenix City. I’ll treat it as sightseeing.”

Ji Chen had no way to deal with him: “Suit yourself!”

The rain gradually stopped, though rain clouds still obscured the hazy moon.

The two made some detours, winding through several turns, and finally jumping over a wall together.

Inside the wall, the carved railings and painted buildings were already dilapidated, with cobwebs covering the corridors. Only the garden’s flowers and plants grew wildly, lush and verdant.

“Is this within the Ji mansion?” Song Qian Ji asked in surprise.

“It’s where I lived as a child,” Ji Chen said.

Song Qian Ji thought, aren’t you the legitimate son? Why would you live in a side courtyard by the street?

Ji Chen said proudly: “I opened a ‘door’ in their protective formation.”

So Ji Chen rested here every night.

How could the Ji family imagine that Ji Chen was right under their noses?

“Sit anywhere, make yourself at home,” Ji Chen took out soft couches and brocade quilts from his storage pouch, lying down relaxedly.

Song Qian Ji jumped onto the roof eaves, holding his sword on guard.

The post-rain breeze blew away the floating clouds in the night sky, revealing the hazy moon.

The plants in the courtyard rustled.

“Why set the time for three days later, the night of the Awakening of Insects?” Song Qian Ji asked.

Ji Chen said with his eyes closed: “The Awakening of Insects is good. All creatures stir, and spring thunder begins to sound—perfect for activating formations, especially killing formations.”

“Wouldn’t the Clear and Bright Festival be better? The Clear and Bright winds arrive, and aren’t you more proficient in wind and thunder formations?”

Ji Chen’s laughter came: “A madman’s actions need no reason, no cause.”

Song Qian Ji thought for a moment and said: “The day of the Awakening of Insects is the hundredth anniversary of your sister’s death, right?”

The insect sounds fell silent, the atmosphere dead.

When Ji Chen spoke again, his tone was icy:

“Do you know what you’re saying?”

Song Qian Ji said: “I know Ji Xing.”

He wasn’t lying, but Ji Chen didn’t believe him.

“I may be mad, but I’m not stupid,” Ji Chen sneered. “You just said this is your first time in White Phoenix County. But my sister died at eighteen, and during her lifetime, apart from attending one Renowned Literary Gathering, she never left White Phoenix County. How could she know you?!”

Suddenly his expression changed slightly: “Right, the Renowned Literary Gathering…”

Song Qian Ji had once been an outer disciple of the Hua Wei Sect, hunted for years after betraying the sect.

Calculating the time, when Song Qian Ji was hiding in Hua Wei City at the foot of the mountain, Ji Xing happened to come to Hua Wei Sect for the Renowned Literary Gathering. Finding the Hua Wei Sect boring, she often went down to the city to wander and play.

The two could indeed have met.

And when Song Qian Ji mentioned Ji Xing’s name, the familiarity in his tone and the concern in his eyes did not seem feigned.

He had most likely met Ji Xing, and the two were friends, not enemies.

Thinking of this, Ji Chen’s gaze underwent a subtle change as he examined Song Qian Ji.

Could he be my sister’s fiancé who never got to marry her?

Is it because of Ji Xing that he came to help me today, claiming to be my friend?

A normal person with such suspicions would probably seek confirmation from the other party, or care for their deceased sister’s beloved, and years later, sweep tombs and burn incense together, remembering the departed.

Ji Chen’s thoughts, however, were peculiar.

—This Song Qian Ji has a handsome appearance and outstanding temperament, indeed looking like someone who would appeal to female cultivators.

Since he has an old friendship with Little Star, why not arrange a ghost marriage between him and Little Star? In the underworld, he could take care of Little Star.

Otherwise, Little Star would be a lonely ghost, alone. What if she’s bullied by other female ghosts?

But this man has extraordinary fighting skills and never parts with his sword. He won’t be easy to deal with. I still need to put in some effort.

Song Qian Ji could never have imagined that Ji Chen was turning over such crazy ideas in his mind.

Otherwise, he would have grabbed his scabbard and beaten Ji Chen until his head was covered in bumps and his teeth scattered on the ground:

When Ji Xing was in Qian Qu, you were already randomly matchmaking her with Meng He Ze and Wei Zhen Yu, introducing suitors to your sister. Now she’s dead in this life, and you still want to arrange a ghost marriage for her. Are you even human?

Aren’t you afraid your sister will pummel you?

“Brother Song, since you’re my sister’s friend, you’re my friend too. Ahem, aren’t you cold sitting on the roof in the wind? Come down and drink some wine with me to warm up,” Ji Chen said.

Song Qian Ji heard the familiar, warm “Brother Song” and was slightly taken aback.

He didn’t know why the other’s attitude had changed so dramatically, but a madman’s thinking couldn’t be measured by common sense.

He jumped down from the eaves: “Do you believe me now?”

“Of course, I believe you!” Ji Chen blinked his big eyes, saying innocently.

Song Qian Ji had just pulled out a talisman paper when Ji Chen immediately covered his forehead with both hands: “Again? Is this a lie-detecting talisman?!”

Still, he was a moment too slow.

“Come back!” Song Qian Ji commanded.

Ji Chen tore off the talisman, skillfully folding it into a paper swallow: “Why are you putting talismans on me? Where else could I go back to?”

He tossed the paper swallow, which flew lightly, landing in the courtyard pond, shattering the reflection of moonlight and flower shadows.

Song Qian Ji looked at the soaked talisman paper, muttering: “Each challenge is harder than the last.”

…

The Ji mansion was extremely large, like a city within a city.

The main courtyard was in the very center, surrounded by layers of guards, as majestic as an imperial palace in the mortal world.

As the current head of the Ji family, Ji Guang was accustomed to having absolute authority in White Phoenix County, like a local emperor whose word was law.

But since Ji Chen entered the city, he would face the greatest test since his succession. Due to the pressure, he couldn’t even meditate properly at night.

During this period, Ji Chen was waiting, and so were the Ji family members.

Ji Chen’s expenses at the Phoenix Immortal Tower were all charged to the Ji family’s account.

Ji Guang sent him fine wine, beautiful women, and spirit stones, finding people to drink with him, gamble with him, and entertain him.

Drinking every day—could his mind still be clear? Beautiful women in a tender embrace—could his killing intent still be firm?

Living in debauchery—could his hands still be steady enough to set up formations?

Ji Guang waited anxiously. But why hadn’t Ji Chen completely lost his mind yet, and why couldn’t they kill him no matter what?

The night was deep, candles flickered, and Ji Guang was still pacing in his study:

“When did Ji Chen become acquainted with Song Qian Ji? Such important information—why am I only hearing about it now?”

More than ten people in the study were all old advisors to the Ji family.

One of them sighed: “Song Qian Ji was in disguise before. No one knew he had come.”

“Find someone to meet with Song Qian Ji,” Ji Guang finally made up his mind. “No, I’ll go personally.”