Song Qian Ji’s face wasn’t flushed, and his eyes weren’t unfocused. He tapped the jade table while singing, not appearing drunk at all.

“Can drunken crab even be considered alcohol? Don’t worry needlessly.” Lin Fei Yuan transmitted, “He just broke through Immortal Miao Yan’s ‘Sound of Heaven technique.'”

Meng He Ze immediately sensed the dangerous situation—

They had fallen into an illusion with the pipa melody, yet the Blue Cliff and Purple Cloud Temple disciples nearby showed no awareness. Looking across at the Celestial Sound Sect, only He Qing Qing showed concern.

The Hua Wei Sect members, led by True Void, maintained their insincere smiles while continuing to power the Cloud Sea Formation.

Beneath the appearance of auspicious celebration, murderous intent lurked everywhere, with undercurrents surging.

Ji Chen was still somewhat bewildered: “Immortal Miao Yan has no grudge against our Thousand Channels. Why target us just because Song Brother once spoke ill of her?” He shook his head, “I almost forgot, Miao Yan is Chen Hong Zhu’s cousin, a relative of Sect Leader True Void! I can’t see any flaws in the Cloud Sea Formation. Which direction should we escape from?”

Meng He Ze restrained him: “Why escape? The pipa has stopped.”

With the pipa melody paused, Song Qian Ji continued singing:

“Loneliness is not my wish, the immortal path cannot be expected, the world has many troubles, it is better to wander with a sword!”

The lyrics spoke of “troubles,” but his singing was carefree and bold, resonating throughout the great hall with a force that could challenge the stars and echo through the clouds.

He seemed spontaneously inspired, casually responding.

Guests in the hall felt surging emotions, tapping jade tables to the rhythm, repeatedly shouting praise.

Only Miao Yan had cold sweat emerging on her forehead, her fingertips tightly gripping the pipa, slightly pale.

Her pallor made her appear somewhat weak. She gazed at Song Qian Ji in surprise, her eyes glistening with moisture, inspiring pity:

“Official Song, do you understand music?”

Her voice was clear and gentle.

With that single call, the hall’s cheers instantly quieted.

Some realized the situation wasn’t simple. The phoenix’s golden image had just dispersed, and Immortal Miao Yan’s pipa had abruptly stopped—had it been suppressed by Song Qian Ji’s singing?

Qing Zhai couldn’t help saying: “Immortal Miao Yan kindly played heavenly music for us. Why must he try to outdo others…”

These words were meant for Zi Ye Wen Shu to hear, implying Song Qian Ji was being disrespectful.

But Zi Ye Wen Shu stopped him with a low rebuke: “Mind your words!”

Zi Ye Wen Shu hadn’t been affected by the pipa attack and didn’t understand the Sound of Heaven technique.

But he could vaguely sense the abnormal changes in the Cloud Sea Formation’s spiritual energy. Song Qian Ji was most likely being forced to respond.

Everyone was looking at Miao Yan’s pitifully delicate face, except Song Qian Ji, who didn’t raise his eyes.

He smiled at the wine-soaked crab roe on his plate: “A mere trivial skill, not worth mentioning.”

“Trivial skill?” Miao Yan was shocked, involuntarily repeating, “Official Song thinks music is a trivial skill?”

The hall erupted in an uproar.

How arrogant.

Not just arrogant—his arrogance knew no bounds!

With one sentence, he offended Miao Yan and all her admirers.

Moreover, he offended the Celestial Sound Sect, even seeming to disregard all music cultivators in the world.

This time even Lin Fei Yuan was somewhat exasperated: “Is he always like this when he drinks?”

The female cultivators of the Celestial Sound Sect had always prided themselves on their status, striving to maintain perfect, flawless smiles like Immortal Miao Yan, but this time they all changed expression at once.

They were usually so admired, never having faced such public disrespect.

“What does Official Song mean?”

“Insulting our sect—if you can’t explain yourself, don’t expect this to end well today!”

He Qing Qing turned around and coldly commanded: “Silence.”

The disciples were indignant, speaking rashly in their excitement:

“Head Senior Sister should support Senior Sister Miao Yan. How can you side with an outsider?!”

“This concerns our sect’s reputation. We should demand an explanation!”

He Qing Qing’s face turned pale.

Ji Chen reached out to support Song Qian Ji: “Well, Official Song is drunk, I mean, intoxicated from eating. Immortals, please excuse him…”

But who would believe someone could get drunk from eating crab roe?

“What explanation do you need?” Song Qian Ji shook him off, waving his sleeves and laughing: “Whoever disagrees, just come forward!”

The hall fell silent, partly from shock, partly from anger.

Song Qian Ji turned around: “Who brought a zither?”

As if asking what to eat for lunch, or who brought Thousand Channels’ Sixteen Fragrances.

The Thousand Channels group frantically grabbed their hair and pinched their fingers:

“I’ve never even touched a zither in my life!”

“We’re not afraid to fight—at worst it costs us our lives. But Senior Brother Song is challenging someone to a music duel, and we’re not music cultivators!”

They were about to collectively restrain Song Qian Ji when suddenly a voice of admiration rang through the hall:

“What spirit!”

The guests looked toward the main seat in the hall—it was True Void, the Sect Leader of Hua Wei Sect.

True Void smiled with satisfaction, like a senior appreciating a junior.

Beside him, Chi Shui Peak Master Zhao Tai Ji also smiled: “Official Song is a young hero. Since today he wishes to determine superiority in music with the immortals of the Celestial Sound Sect, let us bear witness. It adds color to the celebration—just a friendly competition without hard feelings.”

Someone said: “If you dare boast, you must show your skill. Otherwise, even at a celebration, this can’t end well!”

This was one of Immortal Miao Yan’s fervent followers.

“At Chen Young Lady’s betrothal ceremony, to witness such an extraordinary event in the cultivation world—we thank our host!”

These were small sects and vassal states dependent on Hua Wei Sect.

“I’ve only heard that Song Qian Ji excels at calligraphy and chess. Never heard he understands music.”

These were neutral cultivators who enjoyed watching the drama unfold.

Miao Yan had already put away her fragile demeanor, straightening her back and lowering her eyes to tune the strings: “The Celestial Sound Sect requests Official Song’s guidance!”

When she wasn’t smiling, her mouth naturally turned downward, giving her a cold, stubborn feeling.

Many who were captivated by appearances only now realized that Miao Yan wasn’t just the foremost beauty, but also the leading disciple of the Celestial Sound Sect.

Among the younger generation of music cultivators, no one could challenge her in her area of expertise.

“Again?” Meng He Ze reached to draw his sword. He thought the other party, protected by the formation, was going too far.

Lin Fei Yuan immediately restrained him, transmitting: “At a celebration banquet, they attack with music that others can’t detect. If we draw weapons, we’ll only be seen as taking advantage!”

With Hua Wei Sect having already taken a position, a contest betting on sect honor was inevitable.

The guests held their breath, waiting for Song Qian Ji’s response. They saw Song Qian Ji lean forward and quietly say something to Zi Ye Wen Shu.

“Friend Zi Ye, may I borrow the ‘Jade Phoenix Flute’?”

Zi Ye Wen Shu was slightly stunned.

He spent years abroad eliminating demons. The “Jade Phoenix Flute” was a gift from the Calligraphy Saint. Because it was made of “Clear Spirit Precious Jade,” it had the effect of resisting demonic energy and calming the mind.

He never played it, only carried it for protection, so others didn’t know he had it.

How did Song Qian Ji know about this?

Perhaps the Calligraphy Saint or the Academy Chancellor told him?

Zi Ye Wen Shu said coolly: “If I don’t lend it to you, what will you do?”

“I’ll surrender immediately!” Song Qian Ji said matter-of-factly. “What else can I do?”

Having just made such bold statements, he now spoke of surrendering so casually.

A famous figure, yet he regarded his reputation as nothing.

Zi Ye Wen Shu thought, how could there be such a person in this world?

“Thanks for this, friend. Next time I’ll teach you how to play,” Song Qian Ji smiled.

Zi Ye Wen Shu came back to his senses, only to find the “Jade Phoenix Flute” already in the other’s hand:

“No need.”

True Void shook his whisk, and the five Peak Masters understood, jointly activating the formation.

The flower illusion in the sky pressed downward, driving the whirlpools in the sea of clouds to spin rapidly, raising the formation’s pressure to the extreme.

Li Ying showed concern: “I believe Senior Brother Song is truly drunk…”

He Qing Qing’s lips pressed slightly together. This was different from before—it was now out in the open. Miao Yan was clever, turning her and Hua Wei Sect’s secret alliance into a matter for the entire Celestial Sound Sect, preventing her from helping Song Qian Ji.

Feng Zi Yi anxiously stroked his tiger’s fur.

The pipa sound rose again like a silver vase suddenly shattering.

It was the original “Wind and Snow Battle Formation” melody.

With one phoenix cry, before the golden phoenix illusion appeared, ten phoenix birds flew from the pipa’s surface, extending their necks and flapping their wings, all rushing toward Song Qian Ji.

Miao Yan’s expression became solemn, completely different from before.

Song Qian Ji turned the “Jade Phoenix Flute” in a circle, weighing it, before bringing it to his lips.

Behind him, the Thousand Channels group was deeply worried.

Most of the hall’s occupants were watching with schadenfreude.

But he seemed genuinely unafraid of embarrassment.

Even his flute had just been borrowed from someone else.