Song Qian Ji’s frown quickly relaxed.

Tomorrow he would leave the mountain and begin a brand-new life.

Even if Miao Yan came to Hua Wei’s main peak to plant a cart of explosives, it had nothing to do with him.

Cultivators valued the “four treasures”: wealth, companions, methods, and land. In his previous life, he had already possessed immense wealth, auspicious land, and a natal magical weapon—only a Dao companion was missing.

He had wanted to marry Miao Yan, and since she seemed willing, they had set a wedding date.

Only after death did he realize it had been his wishful thinking, a misunderstanding.

Not just with Miao Yan, but with all the grievances and debts of his previous life—it wasn’t that he had forgiven or forgotten them. He simply didn’t want to waste this life, didn’t care to calculate or become entangled again.

Miao Yan was to him now like vanished smoke over water, yesterday’s withered flowers.

Passing by each other on this Bridge of Flowing Waters, they would never meet again in this life.

From now on, she would play her zither, and he would tend to his fields.

His well water would not interfere with her immortal spring.

“Stop staring,” Song Qian Ji urged the two men in front of him. “Let’s go.”

The two messenger disciples came to their senses, let out a startled “Ah,” and then realized their rudeness toward the beauty. Red-faced and embarrassed, they lowered their heads awkwardly, hesitating.

Song Qian Ji had no choice but to step forward first.

“Stop right there!”

A crisp female command.

The two messenger disciples felt their hearts tremble. Looking up, they saw a woman in red emerge from behind Miao Yan.

The woman had a soft whip at her waist, arched eyebrows, and long, upturned eyes, emanating a fierce presence.

It turned out that Miao Yan’s tall figure, with her flowing skirt and arm ribbons, had completely hidden the smaller woman.

The former dressed in blue, the latter in red—one like a serene lake, the other like a burning red lotus.

The messenger disciples bowed respectfully: “Senior Sister Chen.”

After receiving a glare from her, they immediately corrected themselves: “Young Lady.”

Song Qian Ji suddenly realized why she looked familiar—she was Chen Hong Zhu, the only daughter of Sect Leader Immortal Xu Yun.

Currently, Hua Wei Sect had not yet shown signs of decline, and Chen Hong Zhu could have whatever she wanted.

More noble than a mortal princess, and with an even bigger temper.

She coldly examined Song Qian Ji: “Are you the Outer Sect disciple who just sent a note to my father?”

Song Qian Ji: “Yes, it’s me.”

Chen Hong Zhu gave a light snort: “I don’t know what nonsense you wrote, but you’ve ruined the Immortal Maiden’s entire night of zither playing, all for nothing.”

Though her words were reproachful, she glanced at Immortal Maiden Miao Yan with a smile of schadenfreude in her eyes.

Miao Yan’s expression remained unchanged: “Tomorrow night at this time, I will come to play again.”

With that, she departed gracefully.

The two messenger disciples looked completely bewildered, unable to understand their conversation.

Song Qian Ji knew perfectly well what was happening but could only pretend not to understand.

So Miao Yan had come to help regulate the old man Xu Yun’s internal energy.

It made sense—Miao Yan’s master, Immortal Maiden Wang Shu, had been Xu Yun’s close friend for many years, and Miao Yan herself had deep connections with Hua Wei Sect.

Miao Yan practiced the “Celestial Sound Technique.” The music could both aid in battles, disturb the mind, and also soothe turbulent spiritual energy, helping others regulate their internal circulation.

After Xu Yun failed to break through to the Spirit Transformation realm, his cultivation became unstable. Unwilling to let others know, he lived in seclusion, rarely meeting guests.

But with the Grand Conference approaching and various sects gathering at Hua Wei Sect, no matter how low-profile Xu Yun tried to be, he would need to make several appearances to avoid suspicion.

Wanting to use the Celestial Sound Technique to quickly regulate his energy, he had his daughter invite Miao Yan to Hua Wei Sect as a guest, under the pretext of missing her close friend.

Tonight, Song Qian Ji’s note suddenly disturbed Xu Yun’s mind, rendering Miao Yan’s Celestial Sound Technique ineffective.

After understanding the cause and effect, Song Qian Ji couldn’t help but look at Chen Hong Zhu with eyes that seemed to pity a fool.

If Miao Yan played for nothing, wasn’t your father the unfortunate one?

What are you so happy about?

Isn’t Miao Yan your cousin? What great enmity could exist between you two?

Chen Hong Zhu unexpectedly met his gaze and was taken aback.

When she walked with Miao Yan, people always only looked at Miao Yan. That’s why she hated walking alongside the most beautiful woman—she would either walk ahead or fall a few steps behind.

But this person was different. Chen Hong Zhu thought, he frowned at first sight of Miao Yan, yet looked at me with compassion…

Disciples of Hua Wei Sect always looked at her with fear and trepidation, while her senior brothers and father looked at her with indulgence and spoiling.

How absurd! When did I ever need an Outer Sect disciple’s pity?

A hint of rouge appeared on her cheeks, immediately followed by great anger:

“How dare you! What are you looking at?”

Song Qian Ji lowered his gaze and smiled: “My apologies.”

“What are you smiling at?” The red-clad young woman struck the white jade railing with her whip, producing a crisp sound.

The five-colored carp below the bridge were startled and leaped among the sea of clouds.

Song Qian Ji didn’t take issue with her and simply ceased smiling.

Seeing this, the two messenger disciples felt immense sympathy for Song Qian Ji:

This person had already stood up for his unfortunate brother Meng He Ze, taking the blame, and had miraculously obtained a chance at survival. If at this moment he were inexplicably struck by a whip from “Tyrant Chen,” there would truly be nowhere to seek justice.

The taller one mustered his courage and said: “Young Lady, he’s just an Outer Sect disciple visiting the main peak for the first time. He doesn’t understand the rules—please be understanding.”

The shorter one also chimed in: “The Sect Leader is still waiting…”

“Silence!” Chen Hong Zhu impatiently interrupted, glaring at Song Qian Ji: “Don’t let me see you again!”

The red-clad young woman swung her whip and walked away quickly.

After twenty-three steps, she couldn’t help but stop and look back.

The man’s figure was gradually receding, his shadow elongated by the moonlight.

The Bridge of Flowing Waters, reinforced by formation arrays, was immaculate. Yet his cloth shoes bore traces of mud, naturally leaving marks on the white jade bridge surface.

The mud prints were faint but conspicuous.

Yet he didn’t seem uncomfortable at all, walking steadily.

Chen Hong Zhu frowned.

She understood her father. With profound cultivation and having weathered many storms, he could face a collapsing mountain without changing expression.

Even if his face showed emotion, his mind remained undisturbed like a placid lake.

But tonight, her father had closed his eyes, expressionlessly apologizing to Miao Yan.

Thus the zither music fell silent, and Miao Yan bowed, taking her leave.

A cloud drifted over, and the figure at the end of the long bridge was no longer visible.

“What exactly did you write on that note?”

…

By the time Song Qian Ji glimpsed the gates of Qian Kun Hall, the two disciples were more nervous than he was.

“Do you visit the gambling houses below the mountain?” the taller one asked.

“What?”

The shorter one explained: “You, an Outer Sect disciple, enter the Inner Sect for the first time and can go straight to the main peak. Your first time on the main peak, you meet Immortal Maiden, Miao Yan. Even when troubled by Chen the Tyrant—I mean, Senior Sister Chen—not a single hair on your head is harmed. With such one-in-a-million luck, you could walk into a gambling house blindfolded and still win big!”

Song Qian Ji shook his head with a smile: “My luck has always been terrible.”

“No need to be modest! If you can walk out of this Qian Kun Hall unscathed, we’ll follow your bets in the gambling house for the rest of our lives!”

A young attendant with lowered eyes approached. The two disciples stopped at the hall entrance, vigorously waving to him:

“We’ll wait for you here!”

The grand hall was empty and solemn, with dim lights and lowered curtains.

The heavy doors closed behind him.

Song Qian Ji composed himself, playing the role of an Outer Sect disciple who had stumbled upon an extraordinary opportunity, and bowed properly:

“This disciple greets the Sect Leader!”

A gaze pierced through the floating gauze curtains and landed upon him.

Though seated, the figure behind the curtains was like a great mountain.

The gaze had weight, like a sharp sword aimed to pierce through his internal organs.

Song Qian Ji maintained his bowing posture, silently forcing cold sweat to appear on his forehead.

Xu Yun observed the young man before him.

No matter how he looked, this was an Outer Sect disciple of minimal cultivation.

There were no signs of possession by an ancient ghost or soul-body incompatibility. He was so fragile that he could be killed with a single finger.

If he were an Inner Sect disciple, his birth date, personality, daily habits, who recruited him into the sect, even his hometown, and secular family relationships—every detail, no matter how small, could be compiled into a thick dossier and placed on Xu Yun’s desk in half the time it takes to drink a cup of tea.

But Song Qian Ji was an inconspicuous Outer Sect disciple, and information about him was scarce.

Fifteen years old, on the mountain for three years. Diligent, focused on entering the Inner Sect. Aloof, unlikable, with some grievances against Steward Zhao.

Things that Zhao Yu Ping thought Xu Yun didn’t know, Xu Yun knew all along.

As long as the Outer Sect remained stable, with no major problems in the overall direction, he was willing to turn a blind eye to small matters. Otherwise, who would work hard at a job with no benefits?

Although Qian Kun Hall stood among the clouds, the massive spirit stones supporting the cloud formation array came from mines deep below ground.

Xu Yun understood clearly that if a cultivator could not tolerate impurities in his vision, if his heart only sought cultivation and the Dao, without understanding management, strategy, and how to recognize and employ talent, then he would only be suitable as a leisurely elder or a solitary expert, not a sect leader.

Especially not the leader of a behemoth like Hua Wei Sect.

Before Song Qian Ji entered the hall, he had thought this young man was simple, without any secrets.

But now, face to face, he felt an inexplicable unease.

Those with powerful cultivation could sense heaven and earth, seeking fortune and avoiding calamity, never disregarding their intuition.

“Rise.”

The pressure on Song Qian Ji dispersed, and an elderly but calm voice sounded: “What is the meaning of the sentence you wrote?”

“This disciple does not know.”

Xu Yun was very satisfied with this answer, his voice becoming more gentle, like a kind old man:

“If you don’t know, why have me see it?”

“Someone told this disciple. He said if there was an opportunity, to convey these words to the Sect Leader.”

“Who? Where did you meet him?”

“Seven days ago, before dawn, I was practicing sword at daybreak when a figure suddenly appeared on my courtyard wall and spoke to me. The mountain protection array showed no disturbance, and he sat openly on the wall, so I thought he was an elder of our sect and bowed to him. His first words were, ‘Young man, you won’t achieve anything practicing like that…'”

Before a shrewd expert like Xu Yun, even the most rehearsed lies would be seen through instantly.

So Song Qian Ji was truly recalling.

Recalling fragments from the river of time, what the “savior’s” master had looked like.

And the conversation that took place when he first met the savior.

Song Qian Ji’s speech alternated between fast and slow, jumbled and out of order, which made it more believable.

At least Xu Yun believed half of it, already having three or four candidates in mind.

Some experts were unrestrained and unconventional, not following common sense. Passing by another sect and impulsively guiding an Outer Sect disciple wasn’t too outlandish.

Hua Wei Sect’s truly formidable arrays were in the Inner Sect; the Outer Sect arrays were as fragile as thin paper before a Spirit Transformation expert.

Since that person left those words, it indicated no malicious intent.

Xu Yun smiled and asked: “He taught you, and you learned. Those who don’t know cannot be blamed—this isn’t your fault. You still remember what he looked like, right?”

Song Qian Ji: “He wore a single topknot, his robes were worn, but he had a wildflower pinned to his front. He carried no sword, yet claimed to be the strongest sword in the world.”

Behind the curtains, Xu Yun’s face suddenly paled.

Song Qian Ji continued: “He was always smiling as if born with a smiling face. He had a small wine gourd hanging at his waist, taking a sip every few sentences.”

Xu Yun’s wrinkled face began to tremble slightly, with fear appearing in his eyes.

“Oh right, I remember now, he said his name was…” Song Qian Ji opened his mouth, about to utter a name.

“Wait!” A stern shout suddenly rang out.

Song Qian Ji’s mind shook.

Had Xu Yun discovered the Immortal Spring in his body?

At his current level, not yet at the Spirit Transformation realm, how could he penetrate the disguise of a supreme treasure like the Immortal Spring?

If not for a full day of harmonization, with his body’s energy completely integrated with the Immortal Spring in his Violet Palace, Song Qian Ji wouldn’t have dared risk coming to this Qian Kun Hall.

Many contingency plans flashed through his mind, but he didn’t act rashly.

He simply continued to utter that name.

As if unable to stop in time, an inadvertent slip.

So his voice was very soft, very weak:

“Xian Jian Chen.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, the bright moon outside the hall suddenly dimmed.

A great wind arose, crushing the flowing clouds!

“Bang!”

All the windows in the hall flew open, cold wind rushed in, gauze curtains tore, and all candles extinguished.

“Boom!”

Thunderstruck from the heavens, hitting Qian Kun Hall!

The entire cloud formation trembled!

Five streaks of light shot out from five mountain peaks, arriving in an instant, and breaking through the hall doors!

Sect Leader Immortal Xu Yun drew his sword and pointed to the sky!

But the collapse of heaven and earth lasted only an instant. By the time his sword left its sheath, the five Peak Masters had broken through the hall doors, and the inexplicable gale had already stopped.

Dark clouds dispersed, and the bright moon emerged.

The overturned heaven and earth returned to normal.

Only the hall’s devastation and the echoing thunder proved it wasn’t an illusion.

One Peak Master shouted in exasperation:

“Who? Who said that name?!”

Song Qian Ji was also stunned.

So there was such a person in the world—just mentioning his name would invite a lightning strike.

Savior’s master, Xian Jian Chen, truly lived up to his reputation.

Xu Yun maintained his sword-drawing posture, frozen in place.

It was as if that person were sitting on the ruins before him, smiling and saying:

“Don’t be afraid, I don’t want to kill you all, and I won’t come back in the future. Hua Wei Sect is yours now.

“But I don’t like people speaking ill of me behind my back. So in the future, never mention my name in this Qian Kun Hall, understand?

“Don’t just nod, can someone say something?”

Xu Yun heard his weak voice:

“I, I understand.”

“Good that you understand. This jar of wine is for you. Yes, you—you’ll be the Sect Leader from now on.”

Two hundred years had passed, yet this scene felt like yesterday.