“May I ask which sect this fellow cultivator belongs to, and where you came from? Did you enter this place by mistake?” the lead cultivator asked cautiously.

Everyone held magical tools, maintaining a distance of three or four zhang from Song Qian Ji.

Having just been roasted by the Endless Fire, Song Qian Ji’s palms were red, swollen, and painfully stinging. He was too lazy to explain much: “Is your Academy Supervisor here? Take me to see him.”

The Blue Cliff scholars exchanged glances at the sudden appearance of someone of unknown background asking to see their supervisor.

Seeing their reaction, Song Qian Ji called out loudly: “Zi Ye Wen Shu, are you here—”

The ice cave was filled with ice spikes, like layers of white curtains. His voice repeatedly collided, echoes lingering, as ice fragments fell with rustling sounds.

“What do you want?! Stop right there!” the lead scholar shouted in shock and anger.

Song Qian Ji continued walking forward as if he didn’t see the magical tools poised and ready before them. His posture relaxed, and he opened his empty hands to show friendliness: “I’m a friend of your Academy Supervisor. He called me here to help. You’re in trouble, right? Once I see him, he’ll explain everything to you.”

The scholars backed away against the ice walls, their faces full of doubt, communicating with each other through voice transmission.

Given their supervisor’s personality, he didn’t seem like someone who would send messages asking for help.

Even if he were to send a message, who could he send it to? They had never heard that he had any friends of the same generation.

But the person before them was thin, with an utterly ordinary appearance, looking as if he had just crawled out of a fire, with several charred holes burned in the hem and cuffs of his clothes.

“Golden Core realm and injured. No threat. If he harbors ill intentions, we can handle him without the supervisor getting involved. Let’s take him.”

Song Qian Ji followed them easily.

He knew these scholars would yield to softness but not to force. In his previous life, this group had complained that he was an uncouth peasant with no manners, while he complained they were a hindrance causing trouble. Both sides couldn’t stand each other. Being in the same ice cave, they had had many conflicts.

Besides the Blue Cliff scholars, at that time the cave also contained more than a dozen female cultivators from the Flower Stream Sect, three teams of wandering cultivators from the Western Heavens Prefecture, disciples from the noble families of Yan Shui County, Fu Yang County, and so on.

All walks of life, the righteous and the wicked, a mixed crowd of all kinds.

The passages inside the cave were like silk threads, crisscrossing each other. The widest areas could accommodate more than a hundred people gathered together, while the narrowest could only allow one person to pass through by stooping.

In all directions, there was only one color, which became irritating after looking at it for too long.

Outside the cave, more than a hundred thousand-year-old spirits lingered without leaving, watching covetously. Inside the cave, a group of human cultivators were heavily wounded, guarding against each other, scheming and plotting.

Some believed they shouldn’t explore deeper into the ice cave: “There must be something more powerful inside, which is why they don’t dare enter.”

Some wanted to try their luck going deeper: “Unable to advance or retreat, are we just going to be trapped here waiting to die?”

“Wait until Blue Cliff’s Zi Ye Wen Shu recovers from his injuries, then he’ll kill his way out and naturally lead us to freedom. Let’s stick close to the Blue Cliff team.”

“But Song Qian Ji will certainly not be willing to take us along. What if he throws us out halfway as bait to feed the spirits? Should we eliminate Song Qian Ji first?”

“No! The spirits attack once every night. We still need him and Zi Ye Wen Shu to stand guard at night!”

“He and Zi Ye Wen Shu also met by chance on the road, they’re not of one mind. Why not first find a way to force him out to divert the spirits?”

Song Qian Ji encountered all kinds of probing and enticements during that period.

He was beyond annoyed, placing his sword beside him while meditating. Whoever approached would be wounded by his sword energy. From then on, his reputation became even worse.

Meanwhile, Zi Ye Wen Shu stood like a statue, bearing the hopes of everyone in the cave, silently guarding the entrance every night.

He wondered what the situation was like in this life. Song Qian Ji asked the scholar leading the way in front of him: “Blue Cliff cultivator, how many people are in the cave now?”

His tone was polite. The lead cultivator thought for a moment: “The various sects are not in one place, but we exchange news from time to time. Altogether, about one hundred and forty people.”

Song Qian Ji thought, goodness, forty more than in his previous life.

…

The lead cultivator stopped at a fork in the path closest to the cave entrance and bowed toward the inside of the cave:

“Academy Supervisor Senior Brother, this person suddenly appeared in the cave, saying he wants to see you, and he also said he is…” The word “friend” he really couldn’t say out loud, so he changed it to, “someone you know…”

“Just leave me here, I’ll go in by myself!” Before the words were finished, Song Qian Ji strode in.

“Wait!” Everyone reached out to stop him, but his movement was too fast, like a shadow.

“I understand.” Zi Ye Wen Shu’s voice sounded from within the cave.

The entrance was narrow. Song Qian Ji turned around two bends, and suddenly the space opened up before him.

This natural ice chamber was about ten zhang in length and width, without ice falls or ice curtains, and the four walls were smooth.

Zi Ye Wen Shu, dressed in black with black hair, sat cross-legged on the ice surface meditating. His eyebrows and eyelashes were covered with a thin layer of snow and ice, like a pitch-black stone statue frozen in ice and snow.

His lips were dark, and the wound on his left shoulder was tinged with a purplish-blue color. The foul blood flowing from the wound had a burnt smell.

Seeing him in this state, Song Qian Ji couldn’t help but coldly laugh: “You’ve done this to yourself again. Fine, keeping true to your original heart across two lifetimes, huh.”

Zi Ye Wen Shu raised his eyes, his gaze cold, and reached out to grasp his Snow Blade.

Song Qian Ji silently recited to himself, “I’m not here to argue, in this life I won’t argue, arguing can’t solve any problems.”

“You’ve been poisoned by the fire toad’s flame toxin. The antidote pills you brought won’t work. All things are born of nature and nurtured by the earth, each thing has its natural counterpart. For poisons unique to secret realms, you need something from within the secret realm to cure them. Deep in the cave grows ice leaf grass, which can cure this poison.”

Zi Ye Wen Shu asked: “Who are you?”

He gripped his blade, not letting the other come any closer.

He didn’t believe a word Song Qian Ji said.

In the current situation, it was indeed very difficult to get past this.

Song Qian Ji sighed, placing a shielding talisman at the cave entrance to block outside spiritual sense probing.

He removed his bracelet: “It’s me.”

Song Yin’s form stretched taller, and his features, aura, and cultivation level all changed at once, finally revealing Song Qian Ji’s true appearance.

Zi Ye Wen Shu’s eyebrows moved slightly in surprise, but he remained unmoved: “Prove it.”

Song Qian Ji understood what he meant: this only proved his previous face was fake, not that he was Song Qian Ji.

Song Qian Ji took out a small box: “The Calligraphy Saint’s box contains a painting of spring mountains, genuine and authentic. Come and take a look.”

Zi Ye Wen Shu didn’t take it.

Song Qian Ji thought he must be guarded against the box containing hidden weapons: “Last time at Hua Wei Sect’s Qian Kun Hall, I was drunk and borrowed your Jade Phoenix Flute, saying I’d teach you when I had time. You remember, right?”

“Many know of this, it’s not sufficient proof,” Zi Ye Wen Shu said.

“Half a year ago, I sent some local specialties to Blue Cliff, all new varieties cultivated by Thousand Channels. There was a kind of bamboo shoot that was both crisp and tender. You wrote back saying they tasted even better after being pickled.”

Zi Ye Wen Shu remained silent, seeming to consider whether others might know about this matter.

Song Qian Ji turned to leave: “If you don’t believe me, so be it. I’ll go out now and shout that the Blue Cliff Academy Supervisor, besides writing the date, also draws two little people fighting on the back of his letter paper. After I leave Blood River Valley, I’ll let all of Thousand Channels, no, the entire cultivation world know about this!”

Zi Ye Wen Shu: “…Enough!” He paused, his tense aura relaxing considerably: “Those were blade technique analyses.”

Not “little people fighting.”

Besides Song Qian Ji, the King of Thousand Channels, who else could be so unreasonable?

“Good that you believe me. I’ve come here to kill someone who’s hiding nearby. When I make my move, could you take everyone and hide far away?” Song Qian Ji asked.

Given Zi Ye Wen Shu’s personality, when trapped in a predicament with others, being the strongest, he would feel responsible for protecting others from harm.

If he said nothing, the other would certainly try to stop him when he acted. Then they would inevitably fight.

If he told Zi Ye Wen Shu, the man of few words who minded his own business would never reveal his identity to others.

Zi Ye Wen Shu lowered his gaze to stare at his red and swollen arm: “What happened to you?”

“It’s a long story. Never mind,” Song Qian Ji shook his head. “I’ll go find the antidote for you first.”