“You don’t need to leave the mountain!”

Chen Hong Zhu’s smug voice echoed in his ears, and Song Qian Ji suddenly felt the world spinning.

No, our definitions of “good news” seem quite different.

He clutched his small bundle tightly and asked with difficulty: “Why?”

Last night, his script had been meticulously crafted, his acting sincere enough to carry the entire scene, and even Xian Jian Chen had assisted with a thunderous display from afar!

It was perfect timing with favorable circumstances and people. Having outmaneuvered those who were unaware, he had led the six members of Hua Wei Sect around by their noses.

After waking from a good night’s sleep, he was suddenly told all his efforts had been wasted.

Was there any justice left in this world?!

“Because of me!” Chen Hong Zhu proudly raised her head, the golden ornaments in her hair swaying at her temples like butterfly wings about to take flight. “I went to the Qian Kun Hall this morning to find my father and learned about your situation. Seeing that you weren’t bewitched by Miao Yan, I find you somewhat agreeable, so I put in a good word for you.”

She paused, waiting for Song Qian Ji’s tearful gratitude.

When it didn’t come, she assumed he was too overwhelmed with joy and continued:

“As long as you stay by my side, you can cultivate in the inner sect as my attendant. Any cultivation methods I can practice, you can practice too, without signing a lifetime contract. This way, you won’t be considered anyone’s disciple, and we needn’t worry about disrupting the generational hierarchy. With me protecting you, you can walk sideways through Hua Wei Sect!”

A brief exclamation erupted in the small courtyard.

Those outer sect disciples, except for Meng He Ze and Zhou Xiao Yun, all showed envious expressions.

Just when they thought all hope was lost, an unexpected turn of events had occurred, and Song Qian Ji had once again struck good fortune.

Chen Hong Zhu’s smile was as brilliant as fire, like a blooming peony: “You don’t need to thank me too much, I’ll spare you the liver-and-brain smearing gratitude. Just serve me well from now on. If I point east, you cannot go west.”

“I refuse,” Song Qian Ji said expressionlessly.

“You!” Chen Hong Zhu suspected she had misheard, and said through gritted teeth, “Would you rather abandon your path to immortality than follow me?!”

In Hua Wei Sect, she had always gotten whatever she wanted. When had anyone ever refused her?

And now she was being rejected so cleanly and decisively, without any face-saving, by an outer sect disciple.

“It has nothing to do with you, Senior Sister. It’s just that such a path to immortality isn’t worth pursuing.” Song Qian Ji smiled lightly. “I know the way down the mountain myself, so there’s no need for you to see me off.”

Chen Hong Zhu watched as he walked toward the courtyard gate, unwilling to stay a moment longer or spare her another glance.

Her expression changed instantly: “Wait!”

Song Qian Ji turned back: “Does Senior Sister Chen have something else?”

“All of you, get out first!” Chen Hong Zhu coldly looked around.

Meng He Ze didn’t move, silently refusing.

The others were also stunned by Song Qian Ji’s statement, “Such a path to immortality isn’t worth pursuing,” and remained frozen in place.

Chen Hong Zhu reached for her whip, about to lose her temper, when Song Qian Ji suddenly said: “It’s fine, go ahead.”

Meng He Ze nodded, and Zhou Xiao Yun along with the disciples who had carried his stretcher finally withdrew.

The small courtyard returned to tranquility.

The two faced each other, Song Qian Ji’s expression even more indifferent.

Chen Hong Zhu’s imposing manner weakened first: “Actually, I was just lying to you earlier.”

Song Qian Ji’s expression softened, but then he heard her change course: “If you leave the mountain now, you’ll have nothing. How will you survive? I’ve pleaded with my father to give you a chance to participate in the Grand Assembly. Let me explain slowly…”

In the cool spring morning breeze, Song Qian Ji felt that life was truly absurd.

The small courtyard had only one broken wooden chair. Chen Hong Zhu’s eyes revealed disgust, but she still sat down and picked up the cracked ceramic cup from the stone table, taking a sip of cool water.

Accustomed to drinking spiritual springs and sweet dew, she thought all plain water in the world was equally clear and sweet, not knowing there was water this difficult to drink.

A strong earthy smell rushed up her nostrils, causing her to cough repeatedly.

But she didn’t complain. She wiped the corner of her mouth and looked up at Song Qian Ji:

“You probably don’t know yet, do you? The Grand Assembly is on the third day of next month. This time our Hua Wei Sect is hosting, and outer sect disciples can also participate. Those who haven’t formally taken a master, if fortunate enough to catch the eye of other sects or families, can transfer elsewhere. If you earn a good ranking, you can also obtain excellent magical artifacts and cultivation methods.”

“You want me to leave the mountain after participating in the Grand Assembly?” Song Qian Ji suddenly interrupted her.

Chen Hong Zhu nodded, her eyes bright: “You can prepare well for these next fifteen days and earn yourself a future at the assembly.”

Having said all this, she felt she held all the cards.

Just imagine, you’re a stubborn person who refuses to bend, and your self-respect doesn’t allow you to be someone else’s attendant.

So she sits in your chair, drinks your water, closes the distance between you, and thinks of your interests in every word.

Moreover, she is a noble, imperious, and beautiful young lady.

Willing to humble herself like this for you—what grassroots young man wouldn’t be touched to the point of dizziness?

Song Qian Ji merely gave a light laugh.

In his previous life, he had little interaction with Chen Hong Zhu, having only met her a few times.

But after True Master Xu Yun’s demise, his chief disciple Yuan Qing Shi succeeded as sect leader. It was said that when he first took office, the older generation of the Hua Wei Sect did not trust this “chief disciple.”

It was Chen Hong Zhu who, changing her arrogant nature, became decisive and shrewd, a good judge and good strategist, helping Yuan Qing Shi secure his position as sect leader.

“What are you laughing at?” Chen Hong Zhu was startled.

Song Qian Ji repeated the four words “Grand Assembly” to himself.

Unexpectedly, the excuse he had used to fool Meng He Ze at Broken Mountain Cliff was now being used to fool him.

“Well, well, well!”

Chen Hong Zhu knew things weren’t going well.

She had still underestimated him.

Song Qian Ji slowly spoke: “Too bad that person didn’t teach me swordsmanship. Even if you let me participate in the Grand Assembly, there would still be nothing for you to see.”

Chen Hong Zhu’s face instantly turned pale, yet she didn’t fly into a rage.

Her black eyes stared deeply at Song Qian Ji: “I don’t believe you!”

You practice the sword, and he practices the sword.

You met him while practicing swordsmanship, and he taught you other techniques—how could he not teach you swordsmanship?

“You don’t believe me.” Song Qian Ji calmly asked: “What can you do about it?”

Chen Hong Zhu glared at him and opened her mouth in shock, but no sound came out.

A moment later, realizing she truly could do nothing about him, her eyes welled up with tears, yet she could only throw a tantrum like an ordinary young girl, slapping the table:

“Get out of here! I never want to see you again!”

Song Qian Ji looked at her again with eyes that seemed to pity a fool. You said the same thing last night, so why did you come looking for me this morning?

“…This is my home.”

“Bang!”

A red whirlwind swept through, raising dust, and the old wooden door was shattered into pieces.

Song Qian Ji was speechless.

When “storming out” actually involves destroying a door—couldn’t you have done that to the Qian Kun Hall’s door instead?

Outside the courtyard, a group of people carrying a stretcher rushed in.

“Senior Brother Song, are you all right?” Meng He Ze looked at the broken door panels scattered on the ground, frowning with concern.

Song Qian Ji shook his head: “I’m fine.”

Everyone looked at each other, knowing that Song Qian Ji already had issues with Steward Zhao, and now he had offended Chen the Tyrant. How would he survive the days ahead?

Zhou Xiao Yun mustered her courage and puffed out her chest: “Senior Brother Song, don’t be afraid, we will protect you! We’ll collect money to buy you a sword!”

They would surely buy the best sword in the outer sect, even better than Zhao Ji Heng’s.

Song Qian Ji shook his head: “If you want to buy me something, buy a door.”

Zhou Xiao Yun was taken aback: “A door?”

Song Qian Ji rubbed his nose.

The old chair where Chen Hong Zhu had sat left a faint fragrance of flowers and rouge, floating through the courtyard.

He frowned and said: “Throw away the chair and teacup too. Get new ones.”

Since he would be staying for another half-month, he should live comfortably every day.

And he couldn’t leave empty-handed either.

Song Qian Ji thought Hua Wei Sect has many affiliated states and counties in the mortal world. I should take away a piece of land.

To farm for the rest of my life.

****

Chen Hong Zhu hadn’t slept all night.

Her mind was full of mysteries, at times guessing the content of the note, at times recalling that person’s compassionate gaze and the upright figure on Flowing Water Bridge.

At dawn, she hurried to Qian Kun Hall, only to find her senior brother Yuan Qing Shi already there, talking with her father at the white jade table.

Seeing them laughing and talking, it seemed they were discussing something pleasant.

Qian Kun Hall remained as majestic as ever, solemn and imposing.

Looking closer, she noticed that all the furniture, curtains, and decorations had been replaced with new ones.

It was as if something major had happened here overnight, yet had been silently covered up.

“Hong Zhu, you’ve come at the right time.” True Master Xu Yun kindly called her closer. “The Grand Assembly will be crowded and full of matters to attend to. You should help your senior brother share the burden.”

“Father, Senior Brother.”

Chen Hong Zhu sat down, listening absently for a moment. The more she looked at Qian Kun Hall, the stranger it seemed.

She finally couldn’t help asking: “Father, what was the name of that outer sect disciple who came last night?”

Xu Yun’s smile faded: “Song Qian Ji.”

“Which characters for Qian Ji?”

“The ‘Qian’ from ‘hidden dragon should not be used’ and the ‘Ji’ from ‘schemes coming to an end.'”

“What kind of person is he?”

Xu Yun’s expression remained kind, but his voice grew slightly stern:

“What kind of person he is has nothing to do with you. He’s leaving the mountain today!”

“Why?” Chen Hong Zhu was greatly surprised.

“Last night, he came to deliver a message for that person!”

Xu Yun knew his daughter’s character—she would dig to the root of any matter—so he simply tossed the note to her.

“No wonder,” Chen Hong Zhu murmured, “so it was that person.”

“This matter need not be mentioned again.” Xu Yun didn’t wish to continue this topic. “About the opening of the Grand Assembly, what are your thoughts?”

“No, we can’t just let Song Qian Ji leave like this!” Chen Hong Zhu suddenly stood up. “If that person finds out that his messenger was sent down the mountain right after delivering his message, what would he think?”

Xu Yun’s smile disappeared.

Yuan Qing Shi intervened with some reproach: “Junior Sister, enough!”

“What if ‘that person’ also taught him swordsmanship? Why don’t we keep Song Qian Ji for half a month more and use the Grand Assembly to take a look at his swordsmanship?”

Chen Hong Zhu slowly crumpled the note in her palm. “That person isn’t a god. He too will grow old and die. In another hundred years, who knows whose hands the world will be in?”

The young woman looked up, her gaze cold: “I want to see that person’s sword!”

Xu Yun shouted: “How dare you!”

The smoke from the incense burner on the jade table trembled.

Chen Hong Zhu met his gaze, refusing to back down.

Xu Yun silently stared at his daughter, the Qian Kun Hall becoming extremely tense.

Just as Yuan Qing Shi couldn’t help but apologize for his junior sister, True Master Xu Yun suddenly sighed: “Enough.”

He lowered his eyes, becoming like an old father. “All these years I’ve been walking on thin ice, seeking stability and victory, and my sharp edge has long been worn smooth. You’ve been spoiled by me to the point of lawlessness, daring to think what others dare not. For the future of our Hua Wei Sect, that might be a good thing.”

Chen Hong Zhu smiled: “Then please inform the Steward’s Hall not to bother him anymore. Don’t assign him tasks or arrange classes. Whatever he wants to do before the Grand Assembly, let him be.”

Xu Yun frowned, seeming to be considering.

“If you and the uncles don’t want to see him if seeing him reminds you of ‘that person,’ I can be responsible for keeping an eye on him. After all, I’ve never met that person, so I don’t have any trauma.” Chen Hong Zhu hooked her arm through her father’s, laughing playfully. “I’ll do the dirty work and heavy lifting. That should be acceptable, right?”

She eventually got her way.

The red-clothed young woman bounced along the Flowing Water Bridge.

Cloud seas churned below the bridge.

Five-colored carp leaped and danced, their scales reflecting the morning sun, rippling out colorful halos of light.

Yuan Qing Shi caught up with her, teasing: “Little Junior Sister, tell the truth, do you have no personal interest in keeping that boy around longer?”

“I do,” Chen Hong Zhu admitted frankly. “He frowned at first sight of Miao Yan. I have a feeling that with him around, sooner or later he’ll infuriate Miao Yan to death!”

“You’re being ridiculous!”

“Yes, I am ridiculous.” Chen Hong Zhu pushed herself up with one hand and flew onto the railing of the Flowing Water Bridge, sitting and swinging her legs. “What pleasures does my life have besides cultivation and annoying Miao Yan?”

When not cultivating, she would often sit alone like this on the bridge, watching the flowing clouds. Occasionally, she would cut her finger and let fresh blood drip down to feed the five-colored carp.

She wasn’t like Zhao Ji Heng, that second-generation cultivator who enjoyed gathering friends and collecting followers for parties and amusement.

Her senior brother and father were very good to her, but her relatives weren’t friends, and no one dared to be her friend.

Chen Hong Zhu, the young lady of Hua Wei Sect, was a person without friends.

Yuan Qing Shi laughed helplessly: “Why are you always at odds with Miao Yan? You’re considered cousins after all.”

“Precisely because we’re cousins, I know how fake she is. She’s as beautiful as a doll, a doll specifically made for people to admire! The entire cultivation world loves fake dolls—isn’t that absurd?”

Her voice rose, frightening the five-colored carp into hiding deep within the clouds.

“The love of beauty is universal. Don’t harbor jealousy,” Yuan Qing Shi sighed like an old man. “I’m also at fault. It’s because Master and I have spoiled you too much, spoiling you to the point where you have no tolerance for others.”

Chen Hong Zhu sneered, glancing at him sideways: “Oh, I knew it. You like fake dolls too.”

“There’s no talking sense to you. I’m going to practice my sword now.” Yuan Qing Shi fled in disarray.

Chen Hong Zhu watched his retreating figure and snickered.

Why was it so difficult to find someone who genuinely disliked fake dolls?

In the vast Hua Wei Sect, it seemed only Song Qian Ji did.