The black robe that had borne Song Qian Ji’s wrath in his previous life, which he had cleaved in two with a single sword strike, was now worn neat and intact on his body.

Zi Ye Wen Shu had also agreed to his request to take over the ice cave.

They had not continued to argue endlessly or exchange harsh words.

Qing Zhai and Zi Mo stood guard at the exit, anxiously waiting for some time, but heard no sounds of fighting.

Suddenly seeing a pitch-black figure walk out, Qing Zhai was about to call out “Senior Brother Supervisor,” but found himself suddenly speechless.

Zi Mo was startled: “Song Dao Friend, why are you wearing Senior Brother’s robe?”

Song Qian Ji didn’t answer: “Let’s go, take me to meet the other Dao Friends here.”

The same knife, the same black clothes—when Song Qian Ji wore them, he didn’t look like a proper person.

Zi Mo stared at the black figure with resentment: “How shameless of him. Even wearing the dragon robe doesn’t make him a crown prince.”

Qing Zhai transmitted a message: “Whether he looks the part doesn’t matter; at least he didn’t poison Senior Brother with ice leaf grass.”

Zi Mo was distraught: “Are you serious? That counts as a virtue?!”

Other Qingya scholars caught up:

“Dao Friend Song, wait, you can’t just enter—”

While they weren’t paying attention, Song Qian Ji had already walked into the ice cave where the rogue cultivators gathered.

Zi Ye Wen Shu’s ice chamber had mirror-like walls on all sides, empty.

But this place was lined with three layers of cold-resistant beast hides, hung with wind-dried beast meat, while discarded magical tools, array materials, and scraped beast bones were thrown messily in corners, resembling a garbage heap.

A group of more than thirty rogue cultivators sprawled carelessly on the dirty beast hides, gulping down alcohol and cursing with crude language between laughs.

The large man sitting in the middle was as massive as a small mountain. Bare-chested, he cut pieces of beast meat with a dagger, skewering them with the knife tip and eating them directly.

He suddenly looked up and laughed loudly: “Ha! Before we could visit Dao Friend Song, he came to us himself!”

“Leader Yan,” Song Qian Ji said.

“You recognize me? Have heard of my name? Of course, we’re both rogue cultivators!”

The large man rose to welcome him, rising like a mountain of flesh, having to lower his head slightly to avoid hitting the ceiling.

The noise of laughter immediately quieted. The others stood up, and more than thirty pairs of eyes stared intently at Song Qian Ji.

This ice cave had poor ventilation, and with the lack of cleanliness, the foul bloody smell mixed with strong alcohol was quite unpleasant.

The Qingya scholars who had followed Song Qian Ji, upon smelling the foul odor, hearing the unbearable crude language, and seeing the “demonic revelry” inside with Song Qian Ji “joining in their depravity,” immediately frowned and wrinkled their noses: “Perhaps we shouldn’t go in.”

The rogue cultivators inside glanced at them, sneering incessantly.

The rogue cultivator who had gone out earlier to gather information saw Song Qian Ji entering the tiger’s den alone with a gentle attitude, and immediately felt vindicated: “Dao Friend Song came to our place personally, aren’t you afraid of dirtying that Snow Blade knife you borrowed?”

Another person said: “Leader Yan, since he’s come all this way, why not let him lend us his precious knife for a look?”

As he spoke, the other rogue cultivators shifted their positions, inconspicuously arranging themselves in formation, preparing for the visitor to explode in anger.

“That’s right, we’ve never really had a good look at that knife.” The man called Leader Yan suddenly reached out, his five fingers hooked like claws grasping for the knife handle.

Song Qian Ji seemed to have anticipated this, and with a flick of his hand, he tossed the black knife away before the other could reach it.

He smiled: “This precious knife in my hands is just for decoration when not unsheathed. If you all want to see it, go ahead.”

“Thud!”

Ice particles shook loose, covering everyone’s heads.

The thick knife handle was completely embedded in the ice wall, with only a section of the scabbard remaining outside.

Everyone’s eyes changed slightly, and their formation dispersed.

“I’ll go first.” A rogue cultivator who used knives stepped forward, gripped the handle firmly, summoned his spiritual energy, and shouted, “Come out!”

A rush of cold energy surged from the knife sheath, like rolling snow waves directly striking his crown, forcing him to retreat ten steps before steadying himself.

The Snow Blade didn’t move an inch.

Everyone burst into laughter. They weren’t from the same sect, didn’t care about sharing honor or disgrace, and mocking each other was their daily routine.

“Slippery hands, slippery hands.” The man retreated into the crowd.

“Let me try!” Another person stepped forward.

The rogue cultivators cracked their knuckles in anticipation, then were shocked, and finally shook their heads and sighed.

Leader Yan finally summoned all his spiritual energy and only managed to pull the black knife out half an inch.

Song Qian Ji watched carefully.

By coming here, these rogue cultivators would naturally test his foundation. He had made the first move, turning it into him testing these people.

After each rogue cultivator had stepped forward to pull the knife once, his spirit bead remained as motionless as if dead.

Wu Xiang or Wu Xiang’s avatar was not here.

Song Qian Ji addressed everyone: “We all come from humble origins, so I won’t beat around the bush. I have my own business in this place. If you don’t interfere with me, I won’t interfere with you.”

He opened his five fingers.

“Whoosh!” The Snow Blade broke through the wall, as if with eyes of its own, and flew steadily into his palm.

The rogue cultivators were silently speechless, all wondering what strange technique this person had used to control someone else’s natal magic weapon.

“Good skills!” Leader Yan shouted. “So straightforward!”

He transmitted a message to Song Qian Ji: “But that Zi Ye Wen Shu is not easy to deal with. You’ve tricked him into trusting you to do your own business, aren’t you afraid he’ll give you trouble later…”

Song Qian Ji seemed not to understand his cooperation hint and laughed: “Fortune favors the bold. I’m certainly not afraid!”

Before others could say more, he had already walked away with the snowblade in his arms.

The rogue cultivators looked at each other.

—Who would have thought, this was a fierce character?

After the visitor left, the enthusiastic and unrestrained atmosphere in the cave instantly disappeared, and the rogue cultivators’ faces darkened.

“Zi Ye Wen Shu always has a long face, putting on airs of a major sect, looking down on us brothers from the bottom of his heart. That’s fine, he looks down on us, and we look down on him. But this Song Qian Ji suddenly appears, mixing with the Qingya people… standing guard for Zi Ye Wen Shu? Ha, who would do such a thankless task.”

“This Song Qian Ji is calm and composed as if he could escape at any time. He must have backing and plans. Maybe we’ll be fortunate in our misfortune this time—perhaps there’s a valuable treasure hidden here.”

Leader Yan said in a deep voice: “When he stands guard tonight, you go too. Watch him closely! If necessary, make a show of helping him.”

…

“Dao Friend Song is back so quickly?” a Qingya scholar asked curiously.

“No trouble?”

Song Qian Ji: “Let’s go.”

The ice cave where the family disciples gathered had been polished, spacious, and flat without any angles.

Inside, forty huge shark pearls provided illumination, with spirit stones maintaining a constant temperature array.

When Song Qian Ji entered, he saw that although all the young men wore magnificent clothes, their expressions were dejected.

Some were sobbing quietly, their faces filled with sorrow as if the world had ended and the sky had collapsed: “I came to this secret realm, endured so much hardship and suffering, only to have to watch Zi Ye Wen Shu’s face!”

Some raged impotently: “You’re all useless! If this young master falls here, how will you explain when you return?”

Among them, one person was protected in the center by three Yuan Ying protectors. Wearing a five-colored brocade robe, he raised his chin proudly and arrogantly, like a crowing rooster:

“So you’re Song Qian Ji? Why didn’t Zi Ye Wen Shu come?”

From garbage heap to greenhouse, the Qingya scholars displayed angry expressions, but seeing Song Qian Ji still smiling gently, they were angry at his lack of indignation and withdrew from the ice cave one after another.

Once they had left, the rooster-like young man beckoned: “Come here.”

“Young Master Cao is calling me?” Song Qian Ji stepped forward.

“You recognize me? Not bad eyesight. I think you’re better than that Qingya supervisor—ah!”

A scream of pain.

“Young Master Cao!” Shocked cries arose.

Song Qian Ji, like grabbing a chicken by the neck, held the young man by the back of his neck, controlling his pulse points, and pulled him out from his layers of protection: “My temper is better than his, isn’t that right?”

“I’ve come over.” Song Qian Ji approached the others, patting their shoulders one by one, observing their reactions while paying attention to any movement from his spirit bead.

“Y-you dare be so disrespectful!”

The Yuan Ying protectors shouted and brandished their magical tools, but were wary of the hostage in his hands.

The other richly dressed young men huddled together like a group of trembling quails.

Someone shouted: “You can’t do this! We want to see Zi Ye Wen Shu!”

“See your head!” Song Qian Ji sneered, “He’s already been restrained by the deadly ice leaf grass poison I administered, locked in an array. See if you can get in!”

“How could Qingya allow such behavior? I don’t believe it!” The young man in his grasp cried out in despair.

“Then why don’t you try it.” Song Qian Ji said, “I still have one plant left.”

A protector anxiously said: “Young master, please say no more! This person did indeed come out holding ice leaf grass just now.”

Everyone paled in shock.

—Who would have thought, this was a madman?

The spirit bead showed no movement.

None of them. Song Qian Ji frowned slightly and walked to the entrance with a flick of his hand.

The rooster-like young man was thrown towards the protectors, letting out a soft cry of pain.

After Song Qian Ji walked away, the exaggerated expressions of fear and tension disappeared from everyone’s faces.

“This Song Qian Ji truly has all the habits of a rogue cultivator, the barefoot isn’t afraid of those wearing shoes. Difficult to deal with.”

“To handle this kind of person, you have to go along with him first.” The young man said, “Go with him tonight to stand guard, and be careful he doesn’t go crazy and let spirit beasts in.”

…

“Dao Friend Song came out even faster this time!” a Qingya scholar muttered, “They disrespect Senior Brother, yet you’re so good-tempered…”

Suddenly he sneezed. The Huaxi Sect’s residence was near.

Rolling flower fragrance, heavy perfumed wind, and waves of warmth tickled the heart.

The Qingya scholars smelled the strange fragrance, felt inexplicable emotional surges, sneezed repeatedly, and their faces flushed red.

“How strange, when we came earlier, there wasn’t this peculiar fragrance,” Qing Zhai said.

Song Qian Ji seemed not to hear and continued walking forward.

“A place of such evil methods, it seems specially prepared for Dao Friend Song.” Zi Mo angrily flicked his sleeves in embarrassment, “If Dao Friend Song insists on going, then go by yourself!”

The Qingya scholars watched with strange expressions as Song Qian Ji walked into the “spirit spider den.”

The cave was cold, yet surprisingly filled with pots of blooming fresh flowers, the fragrance emanating from them.

What should have been a cold fragrance somehow made people feel hot all over.

Female cultivators lined both sides, all wearing crimson gauze skirts. Finally, a beautiful woman more stunning than the fresh flowers emerged with graceful steps and smiled gently:

“Is this Dao Friend Song?”

“Greetings, Sect Leader Hua.”

“You recognize me? Of course, those pedantic scholars from Qingya must have told you, speaking ill of us.” Sect Leader Hua’s eyes sparkled flirtatiously.

But after Song Qian Ji greeted her, he bent down to examine the rouge-colored peony flowers closely.

The petals overlapped, the stamens were tender yellow, brilliantly gorgeous, covered with cold dew, possessing a unique delicate charm.

The female cultivators stared at him, gradually revealing confusion in their eyes.

“Don’t you find this place strange?” someone asked quietly.

“Yes, it’s very strange. What variety of peony is this?” Song Qian Ji exclaimed, “So cold-resistant, remarkable.”

In his past life, he had also encountered these people but had never visited their residences or seen these flowers.

But even if he had seen them then, he would probably have “viewed flowers as enemies,” with no heart to appreciate them.

Sect Leader Hua had been somewhat annoyed, but seeing his relaxed demeanor, with the Snow Blade hanging loosely at his waist, his surprised expression didn’t seem feigned.

“My Huaxi Sect is established beside the flower stream, with flowers everywhere. Naturally, we love and wear flowers. When we plant the flower seeds, we use our sect’s unique ‘Yin-Yang Bewilderment Technique’ to stimulate them, making them bloom more brilliantly. What’s so surprising about that?”

She stared at him, deliberately mentioning the cultivation technique.

“So it’s because of the cultivation technique.” Song Qian Ji crouched down to look closer, murmuring, “The color and appearance of this flower are outstanding, truly rare.”

The female cultivators exclaimed in surprise.

This person was so close, completely unguarded and surrounded by the flower fragrance, yet his eyes remained clear, untainted by impure thoughts.

“Unfortunately, most people consider these vulgar and bewitching objects, never as elegant and precious as pine and bamboo, or as pure as plum and orchid.” Sect Leader Hua glanced in the direction of the Celestial Sound Sect.

She was using flowers as a metaphor for people, with other implications.

However, Song Qian Ji only focused on the flowers: “The thousands of flowers and plants in the world are all naturally born and nurtured, products of nature’s creation. Why divide them into high and low, noble and common?”

It was like the spring cabbage in his field, which also had many varieties, only distinguished by whether they grew vigorously or slowly. If one had to distinguish which variety grew vulgarly and which grew elegantly, wouldn’t that be a joke?

Sect Leader Hua was momentarily stunned, then suddenly waved her sleeve.

Seeing this, all the female cultivators simultaneously ceased their techniques, and the heavy fragrance suddenly dispersed.

“Dao Friend Song is quite right. If this cursed place had wine, I would certainly invite you to drink a few cups!”

“I don’t drink alcohol. May I take one flower?” Song Qian Ji asked.

“It’s just one flower. If it pleases Dao Friend, take it. My Huaxi Sect isn’t that petty.”

Song Qian Ji took out a jade box and carefully placed the picked flower inside.

The female cultivators covered their mouths and laughed softly.

—Who would have thought, this was a simple-minded fool?