Because of Song Qian Ji, Zhao Ji Heng had been startled awake by nightmares many times throughout the night. He kept dreaming that Song would return in the middle of the night, raise his palm, and push him off a cliff.

Just like he had pushed Meng He Ze back then.

Yet when Song Qian Ji stood before him, he wasn’t as afraid:

“What do you mean it doesn’t cost money? Aren’t you bringing a gift for Senior Sister Chen’s engagement banquet?”

Song Qian Ji beckoned: “Little Meng.”

Meng He Ze patted his storage pouch and presented a jade box.

Zhao Ji Heng didn’t dare accept anything from Meng He Ze; the two of them had past grievances.

He leaned backward as if the box contained explosive talismans about to detonate: “Wh-what is this?”

“Winter wheat,” Song Qian Ji smiled, “The gift is humble, but the sentiment is sincere.”

The gifts he brought were all things he had grown himself, so naturally, they didn’t cost money.

“Winter what?” Zhao Ji Heng jumped like a startled bird, “I’ve never heard of it!”

Could it be some kind of magical artifact made in the shape of a musical instrument? Like those used by sound cultivators from Celestial Sound Sect?

Ji Chen stepped forward and proclaimed loudly: “We’ve come by invitation, with both an invitation card and gifts. Is there anything else that doesn’t conform to proper etiquette?”

“This… no,” Zhao Ji Heng was speechless.

“Then we’ll trouble you!” Ji Chen cupped his hands with a smile and strode toward the mountain gate, only to be surrounded by a group of disciples from the Discipline Enforcement Hall.

Meng He Ze rushed in front of Ji Chen, and seeing this, the guard unit disciples followed suit.

In the darkness, both sides were tense and ready for conflict. The gauze lanterns flickered like ghost fires.

Other guests, sensing trouble, backed away, no longer engaging in idle chat.

Everyone stared at Song Qian Ji, waiting for him to speak.

Song Qian Ji thought, what is there to say to someone so unfamiliar he doesn’t even recognize “winter wheat.”

So he sighed lightly and shook his head.

His sigh pierced through the sound of the wind, making the atmosphere even more rigid and heavy.

Zhao Ji Heng’s heart pounded. He intended to advance but instead retreated, staggering a step backward, and screamed: “Don’t move—”

His shout carried a tone of weeping.

“Guests from afar deserve hospitality! We must not be discourteous!” A cough sounded, and the newcomer approached with hands behind his back, looking quite imposing, “Immortal Official Song, the Sect Leader has sent me personally to welcome you.”

“Elder Liu, it’s been a long time,” Song Qian Ji said.

Discipline Hall Elder Liu Hong Feng had presided over his case in both his previous life and this one.

This man’s clan brother, Liu Hong Shan, was the Immortal Official of Hong Fu County whom he had once tricked, and who still hadn’t broken through to the Nascent Soul realm.

Meeting again under the night moon, Song Qian Ji felt the familiarity of seeing an old acquaintance.

Liu Hong Feng similarly sighed with emotion. Back then, this youngster had blended into the outer disciples, living like a dog. Who could have foreseen he would have such a remarkable destiny?

From the youngest Immortal Official to the youngest Nascent Soul cultivator.

With Meng He Ze, the champion of the Deng Wen Assembly’s martial trial, by his side—equivalent to having a fearless guardian.

And with Ji Chen, who possessed the wealth of the Ji family—equivalent to a walking, human-shaped spirit stone mine.

Thinking of this, he felt as if he had swallowed ten thousand flies, yet he smiled and said: “Immortal Official Song, please enter—”

…

The lamps in Qian Kun Hall were relit, the curtains drawn, the hall doors tightly closed.

“Song Qian Ji has ultimately come,” Virtual Cloud True Person said, “What do you make of him?”

Liu Hong Feng said: “Besides Ji Chen and Meng He Ze, he brought more than twenty others, all outer disciples who had left the sect. He’s here to show his power.”

“These young cultivators find themselves in our sect, yet show no fear. This demonstrates they’ve undergone rigorous training and are fiercely loyal to him, willing to risk their lives.”

Everyone in the hall had different appearances, but their anxious expressions were identical.

Liu Hong Feng continued: “Song Qian Ji’s ability to train such a guard unit proves he’s not content being an Immortal Official. He’s had ambitions to establish himself as a king for some time now; it’s just a matter of when. Just wanting to farm? Who would believe that?”

Everyone shook their heads.

Virtual Cloud said gravely: “Thousand Channels County no longer has any connection with our sect.”

Zhao Tai Ji suddenly laughed loudly: “Indeed! A dead land brought back to life, yet now it has nothing to do with the sect!”

“Thousand Channels’ population has more than doubled and continues to increase rapidly. Today they dig channels and find spirit stones, tomorrow they build roads and discover oil deposits. If the day after tomorrow they excavate a powerful immortal’s dwelling filled with treasures and legacies, I suppose you wouldn’t be interested in that either!”

Claiming no interest was a lie.

Everyone in Qian Kun Hall was tempted.

Zhao Tai Ji continued: “Song Qian Ji has already destroyed the temple. Our golden statues have all been melted down by him!”

If Thousand Channels becoming prosperous only concerned power and wealth, this matter concerned status and dignity.

Combined with the outer disciples’ twice “leaving,” the Hua Wei Sect’s leadership couldn’t help but be furious.

They had become accustomed to established rules and had never encountered such a situation in their long cultivation journeys.

Because “anomalies” like Song Qian Ji didn’t exist.

Virtual Cloud smiled: “He now relies on his backers, betting that we won’t dare to kill him openly.”

“This impudent upstart! If not for the sect guiding him onto the path of immortal cultivation, where would he be today?” another peak master said urgently, then remembering those outer disciples, he couldn’t help adding, “A bunch of ungrateful wretches!”

“Don’t be hasty. Let him think we truly don’t dare,” Virtual Cloud said.

“What does the Sect Leader mean?” Zhao Tai Ji probed.

“Give him leeway at every turn, treat them well,” Virtual Cloud narrowed his eyes, “After the banquet ends, I want them to leave the mountain gate fully satisfied and completely off guard…”

Blurry shadows fell on the gauze curtains, the light and shadows twisting into something grotesque, barely human.

A moment later, the hall was silent again.

People filed out one after another, their expressions no longer anxious but rather filled with a kind of eager excitement.

Only two figures remained in the hall.

“Qing Shi,” Virtual Cloud called.

A young cultivator bowed deeply, exceedingly respectful.

“Do you think your master is being too harsh?”

“This disciple knows that Master is acting for the future of the sect.”

“No, your master has selfish motives,” Virtual Cloud’s tone changed, his authority slightly diminished, “You’ve watched Red Zhu grow up. I know you view her as a sister. In her current state, who is to blame?”

Yuan Qing Shi shook his head: “Before Sister Chen met Song Qian Ji, she was lively and adorable, just a bit spoiled, which was harmless. Now she thinks about ‘reform’… alas.”

Reform—something that even that person whose name couldn’t be spoken couldn’t achieve.

What good was being the world’s best if it led to wandering far from home?

Seemingly carefree and unrestrained, but in reality, a man alone.

Some things, no one in the world could accomplish.

Yuan Qing Shi thought to himself, that if he had known this would happen, he shouldn’t have allowed his junior sister to meet Song Qian Ji that night on Passing Water Bridge.

As a fellow disciple of the same generation, he knew more about this matter than Virtual Cloud, who was like a father.

Initially, it was only because she shared a dislike for Miao Yan that Chen Hong Zhu showed special concern for Song Qian Ji, like a child throwing a tantrum and playing house.

Who could have predicted what would follow?

“So your master acts not only for the sect but also for his daughter.” Virtual Cloud suddenly stood up, and pushed open the window, letting the mountain wind rush into the great hall, sending all the gauze curtains flying:

“As long as Song Qian Ji lives, he will certainly ruin Red Zhu’s life!”

Like a compassionate father, he raised his disciple with both hands:

“Red Zhu has taken the wrong path, and I don’t know if she can turn back. The sect will eventually be handed over to you.”

“This disciple is overwhelmed by the honor!” Yuan Qing Shi said, “Once Master finds the Dead Sea Silver Lotus to heal his injuries, advancement to the Spirit Transformation stage will be imminent, and our Hua Wei Sect will last for thousands of generations.”

The fact that Virtual Cloud had failed to break through, carried hidden injuries, and needed a specific medicine for healing was supposed to be a secret.

When Song Qian Ji broke into the Judgment Hall that night, he used this information to create a ploy, writing “Dead Sea Lotus falls, Life Gate opens in the clouds.”

If not for Chen Hong Zhu’s disruption, Song Qian Ji would have used these two lines of poetry to explain himself and escape down the mountain long ago.

Listening to his disciple’s pledges of loyalty, Virtual Cloud showed no happiness.

His confidant, sent to “Life Cloud Strait,” had sent no news for a long time.

He said softly: “This task is entrusted to your command. Can you handle it well?”

Yuan Qing Shi’s body stiffened, showing slight hesitation.

But seeing Virtual Cloud’s cold face, he regained his composure and solemnly said:

“This disciple will not fail Master’s trust!”