The aftermath was much more troublesome than thrusting a sword. Song Qian Ji used a flame talisman to burn the body on the ground, followed by a gust wind talisman to scatter the ashes, and then skillfully concealed the bloodstains and cleaned up traces of the fight.
Thanks to his fake identity as “Little Song,” he spent his days drawing talismans when not cooking. Recently, he had made many new items, some of which he never imagined would come in handy.
Like these seemingly useless sound-amplifying talismans, which had no combat value and were rarely traded even in black markets.
“The trial is over, the entrance to the underground palace is now open—” Song Qian Ji cleared his throat, attaching talismans to create mysterious effects.
Another burst of jubilant cheers came from the direction of the riverbank.
The moon shadow sank, the night veil lifted, and daylight gradually brightened.
The fresh dawn breeze blew across the open wilderness, lifting Song Qian Ji’s sleeves.
He walked toward the riverbank, silently enjoying the breeze for a while before taking out a tiny drop from the Immortal Spring to wash away the speckled bloodstains on his clothes and the faint bloody smell on his fingers, restoring himself to his appearance before drawing his sword.
Wei Zhen Yu was keen and suspicious, so to be safe, he didn’t use the cleaning methods common among ordinary cultivators.
This time, not only did the Pure Bottle shake frantically, but even the working souls in the wheat field domain cursed him for wastefully squandering resources.
“Keep complaining and I’ll deduct points,” Song Qian Ji said, cold and merciless.
“You tyrant! Can’t we say anything at all?”
“Wait until your master returns, and see how he disciplines you!”
Small complaints echoed within the domain.
Song Qian Ji chuckled: “The reason we’re trapped here today, unable to return home or tend to our fields, is all thanks to my ‘good master’!”
The working souls quietly cursed him for being disrespectful to his teacher and not understanding filial piety.
“Want to talk? Here’s a chance to earn points,” Song Qian Ji suddenly said. “From one to ten points, depending on your performance.”
Ten points?
The cursing immediately stopped. The souls eagerly anticipated while despising themselves for being so easily manipulated by a points system.
Song Qian Ji was unaware of their complex psychological activity: “I need information about Blood River Valley, as much as possible.”
From today’s events, it was clear that Wu Xiang knew more about this place than he did, enabling him to orchestrate this situation.
But the opponent died too easily, with cryptic last words, no relic emerging from the burning body, and not even a remnant soul attempting to escape. Everything made Song Qian Ji wary.
Immortal Han Tian said: “Blood River Valley has never had an accurate map. Mountains, dense forests, and plains float slowly on the Blood River like different islands on the sea. When cultivators engage in large-scale battles, or treasures emerge causing spiritual veins to shake, the terrain changes even more dramatically.”
Song Qian Ji: “No points for basic knowledge. Tell me something I don’t know.”
Immortal Han Tian hurriedly added: “The underground palace of Blood River Valley isn’t a palace hidden from daylight, but an underground space with multiple entrances and exits.”
“One point for encouragement, but I knew that too.”
“There’s a hidden river in the palace connecting to the Dead Sea. If one is fortunate enough to find this river, they can enter and exit the Dead Sea even when the secret realm is closed, though the river is extremely dangerous,” said Immortal Heng Xuan. “This master once crossed the river in my youth and can tell you in detail.”
“Two points.” Song Qian Ji thought I’d been there too. Back then, he and Zi Ye Wen Shu, along with a group of cultivators, drifted to the Dead Sea. However, with divided hearts, they were suspicious and calculating against each other while competing for opportunities, allowing evil spirits to take advantage. The outcome was quite tragic.
The wheat field souls, now honestly working, were once mighty sect masters in life. The thousand years of accumulated knowledge from major sects was like a treasure trove, giving Song Qian Ji a feeling of both reviewing old knowledge and cheating frantically.
The souls couldn’t understand how Song Qian Ji knew so much, so they could only rack their brains to provide information.
Suddenly, Immortal Hua Wei coughed lightly: “In my youth, I was pursued by enemies and fell off a cliff with a friend, accidentally entering the deepest part of the secret realm, where I encountered a lake and the legendary Three Lives Stone… With time, I don’t know if it still exists.”
The wheat field instantly fell silent, with all souls staring at the old ancestor:
“Does the Three Lives Stone exist?”
“Can that stone reflect previous lives?”
Another “falling off a cliff and finding treasure” routine, Song Qian Ji thought. Why was it that in my previous life, falling off a cliff always meant serious injury, serious injury always meant encountering enemies and encountering enemies meant facing masters?
Immortal Hua Wei narrated slowly: “I lowered my head to drink and saw the lake water as clear as a mirror, yet there was no reflection of me in the water. Attracted by something, I unconsciously walked toward the center of the lake…”
“Is the Three Lives Stone submerged at the bottom of the lake, and can the water reflect the ‘past’ and ‘future’?” Song Qian Ji asked curiously.
The souls were greatly shocked, with some even suspecting that the old ancestor was making up stories to earn points.
But Song Qian Ji had died once and had watched the river of time for who knows how long with the narrator, so his acceptance was relatively strong.
“Some see their ‘previous life,’ some see the ‘future.’ I didn’t see the ‘past,’ but witnessed myself slaying powerful enemies, founding a sect, and passing on teachings; I also saw the Hua Wei Sect growing stronger, becoming the premier sect in the Western Continent.
“With this extraordinary encounter, I knew the future, always anticipating and staying one step ahead of my peers, truly becoming a master of a generation as seen in the lake. I never mentioned the Three Lives Stone to anyone, thinking this secret would dissipate with me across heaven and earth.” Immortal Hua Wei sighed, “But I never expected…”
He looked around at the golden wheat, with a face expressing “I saw the beginning of a legend, but didn’t guess this ending,” moving Song Qian Ji: “Ten points!”
Immortal Hua Wei smiled slightly, then turned to the souls and said: “Understand now? Your ancestor will always be your ancestor.”
The wheat field became noisy again.
…
This battle fought in the dark of night with howling winds, turned the world upside down, with bloody waves staining both shores red.
The cultivators were in high spirits, united as never before.
The giant serpent, not yet fully awake and still drowsy, was trapped in the formation.
Over ten thousand cultivators followed the “ancestor’s” instructions, with clear division of labor, taking turns to attack.
Though the giant serpent was dead, its aura of pressure remained.
People standing beside the serpent appeared tiny, no larger than one of its claws.
The cultivators, awakening from the atmosphere of bloody battle, realized how terrifying it had been:
“If this wasn’t the ancestor’s trial, and we encountered this serpent, we would likely have become its meal.”
“Don’t say such frightening things!”
The corpse stretched across the ground like a continuous mountain range.
The serpent’s tail had shattered two mountain peaks, and the river channel was blocked by accumulated rocks, forming a vast red barrier lake.
The south and north banks now formed a single lakeshore, no longer facing each other from a distance.
Medical cultivators were busy applying treatments, while the wounded meditated to recover.
Ji Chen’s feelings were complex, both joyful and worried.
He was happy that Song Qian Ji was watching in secret but also worried for the same reason.
He and Meng He Ze had deliberately intercepted Wei Zhen Yu, not following Brother Song’s instructions, and he didn’t know if Brother Song would be angry.
He also wasn’t sure if Brother Song had seen them tormenting Zhao Ren earlier.
There was no time to think during the battle, but now the more he thought, the more uneasy he felt.
He stood up, determined to make amends.
The Qian Qu disciples were accustomed to hunting in the poisonous miasma forest, so facing the giant serpent was like catching a snake. Their combat coordination was high, and they had many protective treasures, so few were injured.
Rogue cultivators with slightly lower cultivation and less wealth, or disciples from other sects lacking practical combat experience with beasts, weren’t so fortunate.
“Fellow Daoist, have a bottle of Qi Replenishing Pills,” Ji Chen displayed his natural sociability.
The young disciple he approached was overwhelmed by the honor: “Ed-Editor Ji?”
Ji Chen enthusiastically helped unfamiliar cultivators, seeing Song Qian Ji in everyone.
“What’s wrong with you?” Meng He Ze was puzzled.
Ji Chen could only transmit a message: “From now on, be nicer to Wei Zhen Yu. The situation is complicated; I’ll explain later.”
Meng He Ze pointed at the cold-faced Wei Zhen Yu: “Who’s looking unhappy now? Is it me?! Mother’s bastard, it’s not me!”
Wei Zhen Yu, with his keen perception, looked up.
Meng He Ze met his gaze and, under Ji Chen’s frantic hinting, managed to force an awkward fake smile.
Wei Zhen Yu was momentarily stunned, pretended not to see, and continued searching for someone:
“Has anyone seen Song Xun just now?”
Everyone shook their heads. Wei Zhen Yu, unable to find him after searching everywhere, looked even more displeased.
Under Ji Chen’s influence, the Qian Qu disciples began extending help in all directions.
The cultivators were dumbfounded, not knowing how to react.
During the serpent slaying, they were shocked by the unity and strength of the Qian Qu people, and afterward, they experienced their goodwill.
“Qian Qu’s style is more like that of a major sect than actual major sects.”
“Editor Ji isn’t as stern and harsh as rumored; true to his title, he’s very helpful.”
A satisfying side-by-side battle, along with the enthusiastic generosity of the Qian Qu disciples, greatly improved relations between all parties.
Regardless of what purpose they originally had for coming to the shore, everyone now felt the joy of surviving a calamity:
“Your sect’s spiritual replenishment technique is truly impressive; I was too prejudiced before.”
“Not at all, we should thank you for drawing the giant serpent’s attention with your timely moves.”
“Thanks to the people of Qian Qu and the Northern Desert; they contributed the most this time.”
With the underground palace of Blood River Valley like an even bigger prize looming ahead, facing the treasure-laden corpse of the giant serpent, people not only didn’t fight over it but even deferred to each other.
Also, wary of that lingering consciousness or soul, no one wanted to leave the ancestor with an impression of greed and shallowness, which might affect future opportunities.
Such a scene, with perfect timing, favorable location, and harmonious people, was a great harmony rarely seen in the cultivation world in a hundred years.
When Song Qian Ji returned, he overheard a cultivator quietly educating his junior sect members:
“You must remain calm! Look at the King of Qian Qu—why was he recognized by the powerful at the Deng Wen Conference back then? Because he could remain calm, understanding how to advance by retreating. See how he appears to have no desires, no demands, no fighting, no grabbing—isn’t it refreshingly out of the ordinary?”