After showing off his skills, he humbly added “I only know a little”—this humility certainly contained an element of pretense. This was a common social tactic; those familiar with it would typically respond with passionate denial, insisting that his expertise was far from modest, and thus the back-and-forth would deepen their relationship.

How could Meng Qianzi not see through this ploy? Yet since childhood, her special status meant she never needed to give face to others. Moreover, when Jiang Lian performed his act, she took pleasure in ruining it.

She replied: “Oh.”

After that simple response, she turned and walked away: you can know a little, or nothing at all, or know a lot, or know everything—you could blossom into eight petals for all I care.

Was that it? People say to counter moves with counter-moves, but you can’t counter without a move in the first place. Without any move, how could he respond?

Jiang Lian had to quicken his pace to catch up to her. “Miss Meng.”

Meng Qianzi stopped, stingily turning only half her face toward him. “Yes?”

Jiang Lian hesitated for a moment. “I was wondering if there’s anything I can help with?”

Eating and drinking for free while standing idle wasn’t his style.

Meng Qianzi was frugal with her words: “No.”

She admitted that what Jiang Lian said earlier was quite logical, and he likely had real skill. But what of it?

Meng Jinsong had always had complaints about Jiang Lian, even suggesting they send him away. If she were to use him now, Meng Jinsong would lose face. Besides, the cliff was full of mountain ghosts, and rope descent was their expertise. With plenty of manpower available, why add an outsider? Wouldn’t that just displease the mountain folk?

She walked forward a few steps, then, as if remembering something, stepped back and gave him a sidelong glance.

From this angle, her eyes truly resembled the upturned phoenix eyes of opera performers, arrogance mixed with a touch of allure.

“I heard you’re quite good at washing dishes?”

Damn, the mountain ghosts’ mouths moved quickly. Such a trivial matter had reached her ears.

Jiang Lian couldn’t refuse to answer, so he responded vaguely: “It’s… alright.”

Meng Qianzi uttered another “Oh.” “Well then, as you can see, everyone here is busy with important matters today. We’re a bit shorthanded. If you want to help…”

How could Jiang Lian not understand this implied meaning? “Miss Meng, don’t you think having me wash dishes would be wasting my talents?”

Meng Qianzi replied nonchalantly: “Not at all. These past two days, the people cooking and washing dishes in the kitchen are all experts who can descend cliffs and climb mountains. I believe truly talented people can display their vision and bearing even when washing dishes.”

Very well, she was deliberately making things difficult for him.

Jiang Lian smiled and finally nodded. “Fine, I’ll wash them.”

He rolled up his sleeves: “Let’s go.”

Meng Qianzi certainly hadn’t meant for him to wash dishes. She hadn’t expected Jiang Lian to agree so readily. At first, she thought he was just putting on a show, but when she saw him genuinely stride away, she couldn’t help but follow a few steps and call out: “Hey.”

Jiang Lian stopped but didn’t immediately turn around.

Meng Qianzi said, “If you don’t want to, just say so. People have mouths to speak, to make requests, and also to refuse. If you don’t speak up, how would anyone know what you’re thinking?”

Jiang Lian still didn’t turn around, but the corner of his lips unconsciously lifted into a faint smile.

After a moment, he stepped back, also showing only half his face to her, his tone and gaze quite sincere: “Miss Meng, you misunderstand. I truly enjoy washing dishes.”

Having said that, finding it too troublesome to roll up his sleeves, he pushed them forcefully past his elbows and strode away. Shen Gun, who had been observing from a distance, suddenly saw Jiang Lian leave without understanding why, and trotted after him.

Meng Qianzi, unable to let it go, took two more steps forward before stopping resentfully, gnashing her teeth at the empty air: “What kind of person is he?”

Xin Ci, not far away, witnessed this entire scene.

Since arriving at the cliff, he was the only one who dared not approach within five meters of the edge. If you tried to pull him closer, his face would turn deathly pale, repeatedly muttering things like “impossible, impossible” and “what if that entire block of stone at the cliff edge suddenly collapsed?” In short, he had all kinds of paranoid fears, cherished his life extremely, and preferred to prevent any danger.

Thus, he only patrolled in these safe areas far from the cliff edge.

He walked up to Meng Qianzi, curiously peering in the direction Jiang Lian had left: “Qianzi, what happened?”

Meng Qianzi responded irritably: “That person—I wanted to teach him some life wisdom, but it’s a pity. Some people’s heads just don’t accept guidance.”

Life wisdom? Xin Ci became interested.

Meng Qianzi gave him a sidelong glance: “This applies to you, too. The child who cries gets candy, understand? In all matters, if you don’t speak up, don’t fight, don’t ask, don’t know how to argue back—you deserve to be bullied and won’t get anything.”

Xin Ci was disgruntled. How did this apply to him? He was certainly someone who expressed himself. Whenever old Meng made him uncomfortable, he always found an opportunity to retort.

However, he didn’t completely agree with this “life wisdom”: “I don’t think so. It depends on the person’s character. For instance, I don’t like those who cry and make a fuss. If I were handing out candy, those pushing and grabbing at the front would just irritate me…”

“Instead, I would especially notice those squeezed to the back—the ones who don’t fight or grab, who are quiet and introverted. How endearing they are! My maternal instinct would suddenly overflow, wanting to pour the entire basket of candy into them. Qianzi, everyone has maternal instincts…”

Meng Qianzi cut him off harshly: “I don’t.”

The tone was wrong. Xin Ci immediately fell silent. After a while, he muttered quietly: “I was talking about myself, not you.”

Half an hour later, breakfast for dozens of people finally concluded. The trays and dishes piled up, numbering at least two or three hundred. To prevent unnecessary damage, most were made of stainless steel, which inevitably created a jarring noise when washed.

Jiang Lian sat on a small stool, washing dishes in a large foldable waterproof canvas basin. He wasn’t washing alone; there were three or four others. Originally, they had each guarded their pile of dishes, working independently, but after he arrived and offered a small suggestion, they turned the process into an assembly line.

The first person was responsible for wiping off leftovers. After being used, dishes inevitably had remnants of rice grains and oil residue. If directly soaked in water, the basin would immediately become murky with floating scallions and vegetable leaves—quite disgusting. So wiping them clean was important—it made washing easier and saved water.

The second person was responsible for sorting: bowls in one pile, plates in another, spoons in another, chopsticks in yet another. This way, for some time, only one type was washed, making the motions practiced and saving time.

The third person was responsible for washing, with the canvas basin full of dishwashing liquid bubbles.

The fourth was Jiang Lian, responsible for rinsing. The mountain ghosts were wealthy; the dishwashing liquid was high-end with little residue, so one rinse was sufficient. Shen Gun crouched beside him as an assistant, responsible for drying and stacking.

This way, everything became orderly: people at each stage could temporarily finish their task and help those before or after them. It was much more convenient than before. Initially, the others were quite resentful of Jiang Lian coming to direct operations, but after starting, they found his method effective and said nothing more.

But Shen Gun’s mouth wasn’t idle.

He fumed: “This Miss Meng is really… Making someone as capable as you wash dishes!”

Shen Gun’s volunteering to help was quite unexpected to Jiang Lian. And though flattery never fails, from their first meeting, this man had called him “sophisticated,” then praised him as “cultured,” and now acclaimed him as “capable.” Jiang Lian finally appreciated Shen Gun’s endearing quality through these successive compliments, finding that this large face constantly bobbing before him wasn’t so annoying after all.

He glanced at the people not far away, ensuring they wouldn’t hear: “These few dishes wash quickly. The mountain ghosts setting up the descent system still need to test it—they won’t finish that soon. It won’t prevent us from going to watch the excitement.”

After Jiang Lian’s explanation, Shen Gun no longer held much hope for his descent down the cliff, but still…

He grumbled: “I might not go, but you, with your knowledge, should be over there… showing off your skills.”

Jiang Lian smiled without responding.

When he came to wash dishes, he had already thought it through: there’s a distinction between intimates and outsiders, insiders and outsiders. He might be good, but the mountain ghosts who lived near the mountains—how bad could they be? For a life-or-death matter like descending the cliff—a household task for mountain ghosts—how could they involve someone like him, whose status was undetermined and who had a record?

So now, washing dishes was the only way he could contribute: love what you do, wash them clean and shiny, wash with vision, wash with bearing.

The sun rose high, and all ten or more setup points had been tested.

The main setup point was where Duan Wenxi had descended the cliff before, also considered by generations of predecessors as the most suitable descent point. If shifted left, one might descend into a colony of black bats—even with the “Beast Avoidance” charm working well enough to avoid attacks, the feeling would still be disgusting. If shifted right, the cliff face had more moss, with concave and convex terrain making it difficult to gain leverage and easily wearing down the static rope.

Meng Qianzi stood at the cliff edge, with Liu Guanguo helping her put on the upper body harness and equipment bag, then a helmet: when people are below, even a small stone falling from above could be fatal.

Meng Jinsong confirmed the number of people accompanying her: “At least eight, right? Can’t be less.”

Meng Jinsong had wanted her to rest for a couple of days before descending: after all, she still had knife wounds, although self-inflicted and controlled, an injury was still an injury. But Meng Qianzi’s reasoning made sense—having come all this way, would they stay atop the cliff to recuperate? Resolving matters quickly would put everyone at ease.

According to the plan, Meng Qianzi would descend first to clear the path. The Beast Subduing Golden Bells’ power was gentler, unlike the fierce Human Body Blood Charm. Initially, it could only protect her alone, then spread outward like a bell sound, expanding its range. Only after ensuring this journey’s safety could the mountain folk follow.

However, how many people to bring was a question.

Meng Qianzi preferred fewer: after all, they were descending into a heavenly pit. With everyone struggling for themselves, sheer numbers were meaningless and might even increase the casualty rate. To be blunt, she’d probably be more nimble descending alone.

But Meng Jinsong wasn’t reassured: what if she twisted her ankle or became lame? Having people by her side would assist.

Like sawing back and forth, they reduced from the initial twenty to fifteen, then ten. Meng Jinsong felt that eight was his bottom line.

Meng Qianzi stopped insisting: “Fine, pick those who are mentally agile and physically nimble. Also…”

She leaned closer to Meng Jinsong, lowering her voice: “On this cliff, you keep watch. I don’t want to come back up and find that Bai Shuixiao has taken all of you down.”

Liu Guanguo was good, but couldn’t shoulder major responsibilities. Meng Jinsong needed to stay and hold the fort.

Meng Jinsong laughed, also lowering his voice: “I’ve arranged everything. If she dares come, she won’t escape.”

That’s good. Meng Qianzi smiled, tightened the guide rope, turned her back to the cliff opening, planted one foot firmly at the edge, ready to descend.

Taking a deep breath, her gaze swept across the cliff face, suddenly catching sight of Jiang Lian again.

He probably finished washing dishes, so he had time to watch the excitement. However, he couldn’t get close, being blocked by the security line more than ten meters away, squeezed among a group of mountain folk.

He also saw Meng Qianzi. Unexpectedly, his face didn’t display that trademark-like smile, but rather appeared slightly solemn. His lips moved slightly—judging by the lip movement, he seemed to be telling her to be careful.

His sudden seriousness made her feel a bit unaccustomed. Besides, concerning her own life and safety, how could she not be careful?

Meng Qianzi lowered her eyes and, in just an instant, disappeared below the cliff.

The mountain ghosts on the cliff immediately grew agitated, letting out “haiyo” sounds of encouragement and support.

Jiang Lian didn’t know the mountain ghosts had this habit and was startled. In that momentary distraction, Meng Qianzi had already vanished.

He sighed inwardly.

He wanted to go to the cliff edge to observe her progress, but couldn’t get through: to facilitate the rope descent, that area had been cleared, with unrelated people kept in the outer perimeter. Only Meng Jinsong and his group, along with a few accompanying mountain folk, could move around nearby.

Shen Gun complained: “They won’t even let us watch. Really.”

Jiang Lian said quietly: “It’s not over just because she’s gone down. Those above should be watching. Meng Qianzi only has one pair of eyes—above her head, below her feet, to her left and right—there should be people watching and alerting her at any moment…”

As he said this, he saw Liu Guanguo hand a monocular telescope to Meng Jinsong.

He stopped speaking: the mountain ghosts’ arrangements should be reliable.

After hearing Jiang Lian’s explanation, Shen Gun increasingly found him professional. Looking at those mountain ghosts who were equipping themselves, they somehow seemed more and more irritating: “Look at them, so clumsy. Not as professional as you, nor as handsome in their gear.”

Jiang Lian found it both amusing and exasperating.

Shen Gun nudged him with his elbow: “Little Jiang, tell your big brother the truth—how would your SRT skills rank here?”

His English was always poor; he couldn’t remember something as complex as SRT.

Jiang Lian answered: “I can’t speculate that others are no good, but I’ve been practicing rope descent for quite some years. Ranking in the top three here should be possible.”

Shen Gun grew increasingly indignant.

Top three!

He had never cared about status or proper conduct, following the principle that “the capable should lead”: with someone so knowledgeable, why keep him out? The cliff top was spacious, not crowded. Why couldn’t Little Jiang go over and take a look? He might even spot Miss Meng making non-standard movements and correct her.

He urged Jiang Lian: “Why don’t you go talk to Assistant Meng? Tell him you’re an expert.”

Jiang Lian glanced toward Meng Jinsong: “Forget it, it’s impossible. People like him are always on guard. He might suspect my motives aren’t pure, that I have some ulterior motive.”

True, Assistant Meng’s face showed he was deeply scheming—only an old hand like himself could handle it. Shen Gun proudly said, “Little Jiang, you’re still too young. Let big brother teach you how to be flexible in handling matters.”

Before Jiang Lian could react, Shen Gun had already raised his arm, waving vigorously at Meng Jinsong: “Assistant Meng! Assistant Meng! It’s me.”

After catching Meng Jinsong’s attention, he crouched down, gleefully ducked under the security line, and trotted up to Meng Jinsong.

With Lady Qionghua’s influence before, and having been vetted, Meng Jinsong was quite polite to him: “Mr. Shen, what is it…?”

Shen Gun went straight to the point, raising his hand to point at the row of system anchors set up toward the cliff edge: “Assistant Meng, I want to learn… SRT techniques.”

Meng Jinsong didn’t quite understand.

Shen Gun talked confidently: “I don’t know how to use this equipment—it looks so advanced. I heard a set is quite expensive. I want to learn about it. You know my working environment—might need it someday. It’s good to have more skills. Your equipment is so complete, and you have so many skilled users. Once we leave this place, such opportunities are rare.”

These words made Meng Jinsong feel good. He also thought such an opportunity was rare for Shen Gun: the mountain ghosts’ setup like this wouldn’t happen more than once in ten years.

He pondered for a moment: “Learning is no problem, but we’re busy here. Perhaps, after everything is finished…”

Shen Gun quickly interrupted: “No problem, you carry on with your work. I counted—you’ve set up so many anchor points, even with eight people descending, you won’t use them all. Just spare one for me to learn.”

Meng Jinsong was momentarily speechless: he had indeed asked people to prepare extra anchor points for contingencies. With Shen Gun pointing this out, it was hard to refuse.

He looked toward the security line: “That’s fine. I’ll find someone to teach you.”

Shen Gun pointed at Jiang Lian: “No need, no need. You’re all busy. Just let Little Jiang teach me. He has nothing to do anyway, and he knows a bit about this. He was just explaining to me about anchor points and descenders.”

Meng Jinsong was startled and looked at Jiang Lian.

Jiang Lian didn’t know what the two were discussing. Seeing Shen Gun gesticulating wildly, he thought he was extravagantly boasting to Meng Jinsong about how professional he was, giving Jiang Lian the awkward feeling of being pushed onto a pedestal, making his scalp tingle.

Meng Jinsong was somewhat hesitant: Meng Qianzi had vouched for Jiang Lian, saying this person was no problem. He trusted Qianzi’s words, but couldn’t completely let down his guard toward Jiang Lian.

Seeing that Meng Jinsong hadn’t nodded, Shen Gun continued to chatter: “If you’re afraid we’ll disturb you by talking, give us the two at the far end. We’ll speak quietly, absolutely won’t disturb you. Cousin Xian Qionghua would never have thought that during my trip to Xiangxi, I’d learn a new skill!”

Impressive—he brought up Aunt Qionghua again.

Meng Jinsong looked toward the two most distant anchor points and finally nodded.

The anchor points needed to be set up at intervals. Those two were at least ten meters away from Meng Qianzi’s rope, indeed causing no disturbance. Besides, even the stupidest person wouldn’t cause trouble at a cliff edge.

He smiled at Shen Gun: “Mr. Shen, a cliff isn’t level ground. Don’t fall off if you’re not careful.”

Shen Gun reassured him: “Assistant Meng, what are you saying? I’m getting on in years—how could I be so careless?”

Jiang Lian hadn’t expected Shen Gun to have a way. Although he still didn’t understand the details, he certainly saw Shen Gun in a new light.

However, Shen Gun’s desire to learn wasn’t completely an excuse.

Two sets of equipment were suitable for teaching and learning: Jiang Lian first demonstrated himself, teaching Shen Gun to put on each piece, fasten the buckles, prepare safety measures, and then explained in detail how to use each item.

During his explanation, he occasionally looked down the cliff.

After so long, Meng Qianzi had descended less than two hundred meters. He didn’t know she needed to carefully observe her surroundings: Duan Wenxi’s previous descent had left a route diary for posterity; her journey down would also need to produce results.

Everything was proceeding smoothly with no abnormalities on the periphery. Meng Qianzi’s figure grew smaller, and the atmosphere on the cliff began to relax: some walked around stretching, preparing for the descent later; some opened mineral water bottles, gulping to moisturize their throats; Shen Gun clicked and fiddled with the descender’s brake handle, reviewing the operation techniques Jiang Lian had just taught him, his brain gradually turning to mush…

At that moment, a boom sounded from the depths below.

This “boom” was soft, definitely not an explosion. An explosion would be much louder and cause the mountain to shake, but the cliff remained stable with no tremors felt.

An orange brightness spread from below. Jiang Lian quickly looked down.

Within sight, a billowing cloud of orange-red fire erupted, illuminating the darkness below. Meng Qianzi was completely invisible, swallowed by the fire cloud.

Meng Jinsong leaned over the cliff edge, completely stunned.

At that moment, a figure flashed by rapidly. Jiang Lian stepped forward swiftly, grabbed an open mineral water bottle from a mountain dweller’s hand, covered the bottle mouth with his palm without wasting a moment, and leaped straight down the cliff.

Meng Jinsong finally reacted: “Quick! Quick! Descend the cliff, descend immediately!”

The group, as if receiving an imperial edict, almost simultaneously rushed toward the cliff edge.

Shen Gun had been standing far away before. Hearing the commotion, he rushed over to see what was happening. Seeing Jiang Lian grab the mineral water and descend, his brain short-circuited. Forgetting the danger, he just found it puzzling, thinking that the bottle of water wasn’t enough to extinguish a fire.

When he saw a group of people rushing over, he suddenly realized something was wrong and shouted: “Hey, hey, watch out, don’t bump into me!”

Fortunately, those people avoided him, urgently descending the cliff. As Shen Gun finished breathing his sigh of relief, he suddenly felt his ankle tighten, and his body was instantly dragged down, speeding toward the cliff bottom.

In a flash, he realized what had happened: when he ran over, his rope had become entangled with someone else’s. As they descended, the force would inevitably pull him down too.

He screamed: “Hey, catch me…”

The “hey” still lingered on the cliff, while the three words “catch me” followed him down like a dumpling into boiling water.