Wei Zhen Yu looked unconvinced: “With that ordinary skill of yours, you dare claim you can cook?”

“Is your skill good?” Song Qian Ji deliberately asked. “How many times have you done it?”

“Never!” Wei Zhen Yu coldly spat out these two words, then angrily pressed down on his sword hilt. “Stop your wild guessing. Let’s go!”

Song Qian Ji smiled slightly and slowly descended the stairs.

The path ahead was filled with traps, hidden passages, maze formations, and guardian beasts appearing one after another. Sometimes golden eagles shrieked, and sometimes countless arrows flew.

When scouting, Song Qian Ji walked at the very front. If he stepped on a trap, he would immediately run back, leaving the fighting opportunities to others.

He ran fast, like a slippery fish impossible to catch. Wei Zhen Yu couldn’t grab him and had to take the lead, drawing his sword against the overwhelming符雨 talismanic arrows, rallying the troops: “For Bei Mo, for the New Heaven!”

The silver-armored team burned with fighting spirit, swinging their blades and shouting in unison: “For the New Heaven!”

Song Qian Ji had to admit that these young people fighting with faith in a new world created quite a stirring scene.

It was like when he had seen Ji Chen and Li Ci Quan facing off earlier—evenly matched opponents refusing to yield, their fighting spirit blazing.

Though he had no particular faith, he suddenly felt that having someone in the world who could play a serious match with him was not a bad thing.

Song Qian Ji decided that once Xian Jian Chen’s matter was settled, he would visit Purple Cloud Temple to seriously play another game of chess with the old master, telling him that he had inherited the Dragon-Slaying Formation and had taught it to someone who killed a two-thousand-year-old jiao dragon.

With no more dragons in the world, using the Dragon-Slaying Formation to kill a Jiao dragon wasn’t a waste of talent.

After each battle ended, with devastation all around, before Wei Zhen Yu could turn his head to catch the “fish,” Song Qian Ji had already walked to the front again.

“You certainly run fast,” Wei Zhen Yu said.

“I’ve specially practiced the art of escape,” Song Qian Ji looked back and asked, “Will you let me choose again this time?”

“You choose,” Wei Zhen Yu said.

You’re leading this large group of people yet following the word of an “assassin”—your team will eventually fall apart.

But falling apart was impossible.

Despite numerous difficulties, with Song Qian Ji’s hints and guidance, they always managed to turn danger into safety.

Even Song Qian Ji felt his luck had improved, encountering only places he had personally explored in his previous life or had heard analyzed in detail by the contract spirit.

They finally reached the deepest part of the underground palace.

The descending staircase ended here, and everyone seemed to be suspended at the edge of a cliff.

Forty zhang below was a large jade-built pool, as vast as the plaza’s maze formation at the entrance, stretching beyond sight.

What flowed in the pool was not water, but a purple-red flame.

Sparks flew and heat waves rolled.

Even with spiritual energy protecting their bodies, the cultivators’ skin still burned painfully from the rising fire.

Wei’s confidants seemed not to feel the pain, their expressions extremely excited:

“Prince Wei is destined by heaven!”

“Congratulations to Prince Wei for fulfilling his wish!”

Only Wei Zhen Yu himself looked solemn: “It’s too early to celebrate.”

This thing was ferocious and violent. If one couldn’t tame it, they would be burned to ashes, not even a wisp of soul remaining.

But he had already come this far. From the day he left Thousand Channels, there was no turning back.

Wei Zhen Yu looked around at the walls, where countless symbols flickered with faint light. He closed his eyes and calculated the position. Although the fire pool was at the very center of the underground palace, it wasn’t being heavily protected. Rather, it was like a prisoner trapped in an underground jail, prevented from escaping and harming the world.

Wei Zhen Yu sent out a thread of divine consciousness, attempting to communicate with it.

“The thing Prince Wei came to Blood River Valley for is this, right?” Song Qian Ji pointed to the center of the fire pool. “The Endless Fire.”

There, a purple lotus bloomed, like a spring eye, with endless flames surging from its petals, yet constrained by the symbols on the cold jade pool’s edge.

Wei Zhen Yu proudly said: “If you wish to compete with me for it, let it be based on our abilities.”

“I have no such intention,” Song Qian Ji shook his head.

In his previous life, with such a treasure before him, he would naturally have fought for it.

But now, no matter how beautifully the Endless Fire bloomed, in his eyes it couldn’t compare to the true lotus in Song Estate’s large vat, complete in both color and fragrance.

By the pool, winding symbols formed an ancient saying:

“Those who tame fire shall be consumed by fierce flames.”

It was clear that this “flower” was not only difficult to nurture but also prone to devouring its master.

Wei Zhen Yu suddenly opened his eyes: “Step back!”

His voice was stern. Everyone hurriedly retreated, clearing the area to facilitate his work.

Wei Zhen Yu, holding his long sword, leaped.

At the same time, a figure rushed ahead, passing by his side and heading straight for the center of the fire pool.

It was Song Yin, who had just said he had “no such intention”!

Wei Zhen Yu let out a cold sneer, turning his sword toward Song Yin: “Draw your sword!”

That light, thin, transparent, and lusterless murderous sword the other carried—he had long disliked it.

The silver-armored team tried to step forward to assist, but the staircase suddenly gave a thunderous roar, bending backwards and collapsing, like a door closing, instantly cutting everyone off from the fire pool.

The underground palace mechanism sensed someone rushing toward the fire pool and drove the others away.

The Endless Fire was the core inheritance of the underground palace, to be passed to only one person.

Song Qian Ji and Wei Zhen Yu moved simultaneously. Now both were in mid-air, with Wei Zhen Yu’s sword light stabbing straight at Song Qian Ji’s back.

Song Qian Ji blocked with his sleeve, having no time to explain to Wei Zhen Yu—

His dantian already contained the Undying Spring with the strongest vitality. Water and fire were naturally incompatible, and they could no longer accommodate the ‘Endless Fire’ that burned all things.

The Pure Bottle shook incessantly, urging him to leave quickly.

In his domain, the contract spirit felt the wheat field’s temperature rising and cursed him for making trouble.

Water benefits all things without contention, and the Undying Spring was willing to step back.

But the Endless Fire seemed provoked, its anger accumulated over thousands of years uncontrollable, like a volcanic eruption.

The fire pool suddenly surged with waves, and fire tongues like long dragons shot straight toward Song Qian Ji.

It appeared as if the Endless Fire was coming toward him, actively choosing him.

Wei Zhen Yu’s attack grew more urgent.

Purple flames in front, sword light behind, and the contract spirit cursing in his domain.

“Don’t curse me, curse Xian Jian Chen if you must!” Song Qian Ji, amid chaos, didn’t forget to curse back in his mind.

Just now when Wei Zhen Yu jumped, the spirit bead in his sleeve suddenly flashed momentarily before becoming dim again.

He awoke with a start and sent out his divine consciousness to investigate.

Beneath the pool was carved a random teleportation formation, presumably to facilitate the inheritor’s departure after receiving the inheritance.

Having not encountered anyone else along the way, the person he needed to kill could only be on the other side of the teleportation formation beneath the pool.

The landing point of the random teleportation formation would change, and the opportunity couldn’t be missed. He had to jump into the fire pit immediately.

This made him both shocked and angry.

That bastard Xian Jian Chen, just how many people did he want him to kill? Without extra pay?

“Song Yin, you should know that the Endless Fire is only passed to one person!” Wei Zhen Yu’s sword light was obstructed, but he didn’t feel annoyed. Rather, he felt it was as it should be.

This person had hidden his cultivation level and followed by his side all along, surely with ulterior motives. Since it wasn’t for assassination, it seemed that coveting the treasure was the only explanation.

“I know,” Song Qian Ji simply stopped.

The Endless Fire had already been provoked by his Undying Spring and was in its most violent state.

If it were to leave the pool now, it would launch a fierce attack.

He had the Undying Spring to protect him, but Wei Zhen Yu did not.

The two stood facing each other, with the purple multi-petaled lotus burning between them, quite beautiful.

Song Qian Ji sighed inwardly, thinking he owed him, but outwardly smiled and said: “There are only the two of us here. If it doesn’t choose me, it will choose you—a fifty-fifty chance. Shall we gamble?”

“Gamble on what?” Wei Zhen Yu asked.

“On our lives, of course. I’ve been your vanguard all along; this time it should be my turn to scout ahead.”

“Very well,” Wei Zhen Yu slowly nodded, like a proud king. “I’ll let you go first.”

Watching Song Yin stretch out his hand to touch the lotus, his face changing from red to white, forehead soaked in sweat like rain, seemingly enduring pain.

Wei Zhen Yu stared intently at his face, as if the next moment the other would be burned to ashes.

But it didn’t happen.

Song Yin’s slender fingers finally touched the stem of the Endless Fire, gently broke it, and plucked it from the fire pool, like picking an ordinary lotus.

The Endless Fire struggled angrily in Song Qian Ji’s hand, sparks bursting with crackling sounds, but was suppressed by the Undying Spring covering his palm.

In his dantian, the roars of the Endless Fire echoed, and the Undying Spring, unwilling to be outdone, tried to rush out of the Pure Bottle to drench the other thoroughly.

Wei Zhen Yu only saw Song Yin effortlessly pluck the flower, instantly losing all expression, his eyes deep: “I lost the bet.”

The other had taken the flower and, though pale-faced, was in no hurry to leave, instead smiling at him: “You’ve never lost before.”

Then that person threw the Endless Fire casually toward him.

Wei Zhen Yu was struck as if by lightning at these words, instinctively catching the lotus but not looking at it.

Memories like a rain of fire, falling densely before his eyes.

On a rainy night, someone had said to him: “You’ve never lost before.”

The same.

How could it be the same?

A flash of lightning split Wei Zhen Yu’s mind. He reached out, striving forward, trying to grasp the other’s clothes.

But the Endless Fire burned in his hand, burning from his chest into his dantian, burning him immobile, distorting all scenery before his eyes.

That figure was extremely blurry, disappearing into the sea of fire in the blink of an eye.

“Ah—”

…

Song Qian Ji, cursing Xian Jian Chen in his heart, passed through the teleportation formation at the bottom of the pool and crashed onto the white snow.

In the deepest part of the ice cave, the four walls were as smooth as mirrors. Going from extreme heat to extreme cold, Song Qian Ji couldn’t help but sneeze.

“Who goes there?!” A loud shout rang out.

Before long, three or four young cultivators hurriedly arrived. Their expressions were alert, their clothes tattered, appearing somewhat disheveled, yet they were recognizably dressed like Blue Cliff scholars.

“No way,” Song Qian Ji murmured as he looked toward the cave entrance.

Everything had changed, yet how could Zi Ye Wen Shu still be trapped in the ice cave from his previous life?