Song Qian Ji frowned slightly, unconsciously touching his wrist. The fox-tail bracelet given by Xian Jian Chen was still there; his disguise had no issues, and Wei Zhen Yu should be unable to see through it.

But he still took a step back, letting the tall figure in front of him block him completely.

Wei Zhen Yu bore little resemblance to his familiar steward Wei Ping, nor did he look like the savior who quietly amassed wealth and seized opportunities in his previous life.

He had revealed his brilliance too early, becoming widely renowned as Duke Wei.

“Duke Wei, I’ve long admired your name! Meeting you today proves that heroes emerge from youth, your reputation is well-deserved!” The independent cultivator team leader clasped his fists. “I am Lu Zhou, belonging to no sect or school, fortunate enough to possess a high-grade treasure blade.”

He patted the handle at his waist, releasing a trace of ice-cold energy: “This blade was forged with extremely cold stone. After advancing to Nascent Soul, people in the Southern Celestial Region call me ‘Sixteen Chain Slashes.’ Our team consists entirely of independent cultivators, here to collect spirit herbs. Today we were about to enter deeper into the forest, seeking a hundred-year fire-separation herb…”

Lu Zhou was following proper etiquette—the more detailed one’s self-introduction, the more sincerity shown.

Song Qian Ji listened while using the red bead in his sleeve to investigate. The bead showed no reaction.

The person he wanted to kill wasn’t in Wei Zhen Yu’s team. Song Qian Ji felt relieved and withdrew the red bead.

Lu Zhou was somewhat nervous. This Duke Wei was young, handsome, and passionate, yet his aura was so imposing that one dared not look directly at him.

He continued: “This is our team’s formation master Wu Xiao, skilled in protective formations within thirty zhang and illusion formations within twenty zhang.”

The chubby formation master hurriedly stepped forward: “Greetings, Duke Wei!”

Wei Zhen Yu remained silent, his gaze sharp. Fortunately, Li Ci Quan interjected timely beside him:

“A fellow practitioner! I’m also a formation master. When I first studied chess, Duke Wei taught me personally. We should exchange pointers sometime.”

The independent cultivators smiled at him with a hint of gratitude.

Lu Zhou continued: “This is Zhang Hou, skilled in escape techniques and concealment. Throughout our journey, we’ve faced dangers without casualties, thanks to his vigilance in detecting and avoiding peril…”

Zhang Hou straightened his chest, interrupting: “Willing to serve as a scout and explore the path for everyone.”

Song Qian Ji sighed inwardly. If they truly relied on him, they would have been buried in foreign lands long ago, becoming fertilizer for the secret realm’s flowers and plants, or supplements for evil spirits.

“This is medical cultivator Li Ling, skilled in emergency treatment and qi replenishment.”

“This is our team’s sword cultivator Wang An, known as ‘Swift Sword Chasing Wind’ in Southern Celestial Region.”

Following team leader Lu Zhou’s introductions, the independent cultivators stepped forward one by one, eager to showcase their abilities on the spot.

Even the team’s most talkative and harsh sword cultivator bowed respectfully.

Song Qian Ji was secretly amused when he suddenly heard Lu Zhou say: “This is our team’s talisman master Song Xun, skilled in drawing miasma-dispelling and body-lightening talismans… Little Song? Little Song?!”

Lu Zhou abruptly raised his voice.

Everyone looked over, and Song Qian Ji coughed awkwardly: “I’m here.”

“I know you’re here! What are you standing there for, silly boy? Come quickly and greet Duke Wei!” The independent cultivators enthusiastically beckoned him forward. Song Qian Ji felt like he was being roasted over flames from both sides while facing Wei Zhen Yu’s cold gaze.

The chubby formation master Wu Xiao even pushed him: “This child is just timid, shy, and honest!”

Who’s a child?!

Song Qian Ji’s vision darkened, and he barely managed to mutter: “Ahem, Duke Wei.”

“So uncouth,” sword cultivator Wang An grumbled disdainfully.

“Little Song is shy by nature, Duke Wei, please don’t take offense,” Lu Zhou smiled.

This abnormal behavior made Wei Zhen Yu look at him more closely: “Your surname is Song?”

His voice wasn’t loud, yet the crowd immediately fell silent.

The clear wind couldn’t disperse the heavy smell of blood. The sun hid behind clouds, suddenly darkening the forest.

“Yes,” Song Qian Ji nodded.

Wei Zhen Yu said nothing, merely beckoning with his hand.

Song Qian Ji was speechless, thinking, who taught you this bad habit? Are you calling a cat or a dog?

After leaving Song Academy, why haven’t you learned better manners?

Although “kindness doesn’t command armies, emotion doesn’t establish authority,” Wei Zhen Yu’s air was too grand. Song Qian Ji felt displeased and was reluctant to respond.

Drawing closer, he noticed Wei Zhen Yu’s face was slightly pale, with what seemed like bloodshot eyes.

“Having killed so many red-eyed snakes overnight, he doesn’t look as composed as he appears. He must be depleted of spiritual energy and needs rest, yet fears losing control of others. He can’t command respect and authority, so he forces a cold and aloof demeanor.”

With this thought, Song Qian Ji’s displeasure faded, finding it merely amusing.

“Song what?” Wei Zhen Yu asked.

“Song Xun,” Song Qian Ji answered good-naturedly.

The independent cultivators exchanged glances, their faces showing confusion:

We’ve been showing off our skills without any response, yet this quiet Song fellow has somehow caught his attention.

“How is it written…” Wei Zhen Yu’s sword had been wiped clean of blood.

The blade gleamed like silver moonlight, cold as ice.

His wrist moved slightly, the sword tip tracing through the blood-soaked reddish-brown soil, drawing three water radicals.

Song Qian Ji lowered his head, staring at the sword tip.

“Xun,” Wei Zhen Yu sheathed his sword. “This character?”

“Close enough,” Song Qian Ji relaxed.

“Either it is or it isn’t, what do you mean by ‘close enough’!” Lu Zhou scolded. “How dare you mislead Duke Wei?”

Song Qian Ji just smiled.

“No matter,” Wei Zhen Yu waved his hand. “You may go.”

He wouldn’t lower himself to trouble a timid independent cultivator.

Song Qian Ji returned to stand behind the group.

Li Ci Quan pointed to a spot nearby, smiling amiably: “Everyone, please wait here a moment.”

The independent cultivators obediently moved aside, waiting for Wei Zhen Yu to decide their fate.

“Had I known, I would have chosen the surname Song first,” someone in the team muttered.

Shortly after, Li Ci Quan returned, his smile more genuine:

“We are also heading deeper into the forest, and fortunately, we can travel together for a while. Duke Wei didn’t come for spirit herbs, so you can have all the herbs we find along the way. However, as for other things…”

“Other gains certainly belong to Duke Wei!” Lu Zhou quickly interjected. “We’ll coordinate against enemies and advance or retreat together! What would you like us to do?”

Li Ci Quan was pleased with his understanding: “Duke Wei is generous and won’t let you work for nothing. We’ll see how things unfold in the forest. Just do your best.”

The implication was clear: more work, more reward. If they happened to be helpful, they could share in rewards beyond just spirit herbs.

If they couldn’t help, Duke Wei would simply consider them as extra baggage on a spring outing, protecting them for part of the journey.

Once out of the miasma forest, they would part ways.

Some team members were dissatisfied with being underestimated, and their expressions were sour.

Sword cultivator Wang An said coldly: “We brothers have long admired Duke Wei’s reputation. We came to meet a hero, not to freeload or seek easy benefits!”

Lu Zhou gave him a warning look, then smiled at Li Ci Quan: “A long journey tests a horse’s strength. I won’t say more.”

Song Qian Ji listened impassively, wondering where Wei Zhen Yu had learned such tactics—showing goodwill yet being dismissive. With just a few words, he had a group of people eager to prove their worth.

In a couple of days, if he showed them new respect and honored their talents, wouldn’t these independent cultivators be moved to tears?

But entering the miasma forest without seeking spirit herbs meant he must be after something greater. Was he looking for a great beast’s core or the entrance to an underground palace in the miasma forest?

“Let’s go,” Wei Zhen Yu stood up.

His silver-armored guards followed him like a well-trained army.

The independent cultivator team fell behind, with the chubby formation master forcibly engaging Li Ci Quan in casual conversation: “This is my first time meeting a fellow formation master in the secret realm. What formations does Senior Brother Li specialize in?”

Li Ci Quan was younger than him, yet he fluently called him “Senior Brother” with wide eyes.

“I practice the Yin-Yang Double Kill Formation the most. Has Daoist Friend Wu heard of it?”

The farther they got from the imposing Wei Zhen Yu, the more relaxed the atmosphere became. The group chatted and laughed, at least appearing to enjoy the conversation.

The topic turned back to Duke Wei, and Li Ci Quan suddenly lowered his voice: “Duke Wei has two taboos that I’ve figured out myself. I’ll share them with you for reference.”

The independent cultivators became slightly solemn, pricking up their ears.

“Sometimes Duke Wei does things that seem strange. Don’t ask too many questions. Even if you don’t understand, just follow his instructions. He doesn’t like explaining himself to others, but he’s always right.”

Song Qian Ji remained silent, wondering if this was the confidence of a savior.

“And the second one?!” Lu Zhou asked eagerly.

“The second is, don’t mention that Duke Song in front of him. Don’t say anything good or bad.”

“Does Duke Wei have a grudge against that one from Qian Qu?”

Li Ci Quan said solemnly: “Don’t ask too much.”

“Alright, we brothers understand the importance. We won’t ask what shouldn’t be asked or say what shouldn’t be said. Rest assured!” Lu Zhou patted his chest in the guarantee.

But Song Qian Ji couldn’t help asking: “Which Duke Song?”

Zhang Hou laughed loudly: “Who else could it be? Being called a duke isn’t like being called a sect leader, gate master, elder, or immortal. You can’t just raise a bamboo pole, hang a flag, and call yourself one. You need territory, money, power, and most importantly, people’s hearts. You need the presence that makes people respond to your call; only then will others acknowledge you as a duke.

“Currently, the only one who can be called Duke Song is Song Qian Ji of Qian Qu. Unfortunately, they each occupy different regions, so one duke never meets the other.”

Song Qian Ji laughed: “Actually, that’s a rumor. Song Qian Ji himself has never claimed to be a duke.”

Lu Zhou laughed at his naivety: “He’s just biding his time, conserving strength. It’s like snow in winter—the only question is whether it falls early or late.”

Song Qian Ji didn’t want to be snow, but tried to struggle a bit more: “Actually, he’s just an immortal official who farms and grows flowers daily, with no grand ambitions…”

“Immortal official? Qian Qu hasn’t been under Hua Wei Sect’s control for a long time. Hua Wei Sect has closed its doors for three years—who still really consider him an immortal official!” The sword cultivator laughed coldly. “Farming? Nominally farming, actually stockpiling grain and winning people’s hearts. As the saying goes, ‘Build high walls, store abundant grain, claim dukedom later.’ If he truly had no ambition, why would he guide disciples? Qian Qu cultivators call themselves ‘disciples of Song Academy’—who isn’t loyal to him?”

Song Qian Ji fell silent.

At this point, circumstances were forcing his hand. Even if he pointed a sword at his heart and swore he had no interest in grand affairs, probably no one would believe him!

“These words are just between us. In front of Duke Wei…” Li Ci Quan looked toward Wei Zhen Yu’s back.

“We understand, we understand!” The independent cultivators hastily agreed. The sword cultivator glared at Song Qian Ji several times, indicating he shouldn’t have brought up the topic.

Song Qian Ji smiled good-naturedly, disarming others of their annoyance.

Zhang Hou applied a miasma-dispelling talisman from Song Qian Ji, then shot up a large tree like a gust of wind, swinging on vines and disappearing in a few leaps to scout ahead.

He was eager to report back at the slightest movement.

However, Wei Zhen Yu’s snake-killing commotion last night had been so great that the small beasts in the forest knew formidable opponents had arrived. Being cowardly and afraid of the strong, they remained hidden. Occasionally, a few fire foxes would show their heads or paws, only to be immediately killed by the silver-armored guards beside Wei Zhen Yu.

The independent cultivators had no chance to display their skills the entire way, much to their disappointment.

By nightfall, sitting around the campfire, they were still sighing heavily.

Everyone poked at the fire, weaved grasshoppers, and silently counted stars.

Lu Zhou tried to boost morale: “Everyone, rest well tonight and prepare for battle tomorrow!”

Song Qian Ji hinted: “Things that are too quiet often hide dangers.”

After sunset, things hidden in the darkness reveal their true forms.

He vaguely sensed a familiar aura—that spirit creature hadn’t died.

Wei Zhen Yu had killed all her snakes but spared her. She would surely seek revenge.

Song Qian Ji thought he understood. The spirit creature was exceptionally beautiful and skilled in bewitching illusions.

Wei Zhen Yu was in his youth; feeling pity and sparing her once was understandable.

Everyone appreciates beauty; there’s no shame in it.

“What danger? Even the demons have been scared away by Duke Wei… Hey! Senior Brother Li!” The chubby formation master saw Li Ci Quan approaching, threw down the half-woven grass leaves, and wiped his hands on his Daoist robe.

The independent cultivators all rose to greet him, glancing toward Wei Zhen Yu in the distance.

“Everyone, did any of you bring seasonings?” Li Ci Quan asked directly.

“Seasonings?!” Lu Zhou was stunned. “Does Duke Wei want to eat?”

Li Ci Quan smiled bitterly: “The belly meat of these red-eyed snakes contains abundant spiritual energy. It’s highly nourishing and a delicacy in cultivation world restaurants. Unfortunately, none of us knows how to cook it properly. When we stewed it, the taste was fishy and gamey, the texture sticky—truly difficult to swallow.”

“Cooking?” Lu Zhou’s eyes lit up.

Song Qian Ji knew this was trouble and immediately moved sideways, blocking Lu Zhou.

“Little Song knows how!” Zhang Hou suddenly shouted.

The medical cultivator also exclaimed loudly: “Yes, Little Song cooked noodles for us before! They were delicious!”

Song Qian Ji let out a light hiss as if having a toothache.

He had indeed cooked a few meals to blend into the team and gain his teammates’ trust.

Now these teammates were exaggerating his basic cooking skills tenfold, praising him as if he were a reincarnated culinary god.

The sword cultivator, for once not mocking, looked envious: “Multiple skills don’t weigh you down. Today’s your chance to shine.”

“This opportunity is yours. Make the most of it and do us proud!” The chubby formation master slapped Song Qian Ji’s shoulder heavily.

Song Qian Ji: “…”

I really must thank you all.

Li Ci Quan’s gaze was full of expectation: “Daoist Friend Song, please!”

“Can’t Duke Wei cook for himself?” he asked casually as he followed Li Ci Quan.

“Daoist Friend is joking. Duke Wei’s hands were born to hold swords—when have they ever held ladles? He’s been fasting for years and doesn’t know grains! The snake soup is to replenish everyone’s spiritual energy, haha!”

Song Qian Ji nodded.

Wei Zhen Yu, I don’t believe a word of that.