Sect Leader Hua escorted her guest out and smiled at Song Qian Ji in front of the Qingya scholars:

“In such a bitterly cold and flavorless place, we sisters have no one to talk with and inevitably feel lonely. Dao Friend must come to visit often!”

The group of female cultivators behind her joined in the laughter. Their voices were coquettish, like falling feathers gently brushing across a lake surface, drilling straight into one’s heart.

Cloud-like hair and flowery countenances, bright eyes like silk threads, exuding charm in countless ways.

The Qingya scholars’ faces turned completely red, their footsteps faltering, but their tickled hearts made them more ashamed, and their shame turned to anger:

“If we weren’t trapped here together, we would never have the slightest contact with these women!”

“Preposterous! Female cultivators should be dignified and proper, how can they be so frivolous?”

Despite saying so, they couldn’t help looking back at the beauties.

“Dao Friend Song, why did you stay so long this time? Weren’t you bewitched?” Qing Zhai took out a talisman, “Dao Friend, quickly put this on.”

Song Qian Ji’s gaze was clear, he only asked in puzzlement: “A purifying heart talisman? What do I need this for?”

The scholars were too embarrassed to explain clearly, stammering incoherently. Song Qian Ji carried his knife and walked away.

Zi Mo caught up to him, taking a deep breath: “Dao Friend’s private affairs are not our business! But you cannot, cannot wear Senior Brother’s clothes, carry Senior Brother’s knife, and engage in undignified acts outside! If those female cultivators spread word later, it will affect Senior Brother’s reputation…”

Before he could finish speaking, Song Qian Ji had already walked into the Celestial Sound Sect’s residence.

After they disappeared, the charming and alluring gazes of the Huaxi female cultivators all turned cold, instead revealing mocking intent.

“What are those boys afraid of? They ran quite fast. This sister is also very picky, who would want to harvest essence from ordinary goods.”

“Ha, orthodox sects are so boring. Either they secretly covet beauty while saying ‘form is emptiness,’ or they’re like Zi Ye Wen Shu, practicing some obscure technique until their seven emotions and six desires are damaged. That’s a cold statue, not a complete living person.”

“This Song Qian Ji is different. He loves and cherishes flowers, neither filthy nor cold, neither hypocritical nor blindly confident.”

“Yes, although he’s more likable than Zi Ye Wen Shu, he’s quite dim-witted and probably unreliable.”

Sect Leader Hua said lightly: “Find someone to go with him tonight when he stands guard.”

…

A curtain of cloud-like gauze hung in front of the Celestial Sound Sect’s ice cave, pure white and ethereal as smoke.

As Song Qian Ji approached, it moved on its own without wind, parting to both sides.

Seeing Song Qian Ji boldly walk straight in, Zi Mo hurriedly apologized for the rudeness.

Female cultivators from the Celestial Sound Sect emerged in single file, holding jade-green gauze lamps, their skirts moving like lotus petals as they walked.

A wave of refined, faint fragrance came toward them, and the scholars immediately perked up:

“Immortal ladies, we apologize for the disturbance.”

“May we have the honor of meeting Immortal Lady Miao Yan?”

Under the illumination of the jade-green gauze lamps, the ice surface reflected a pale golden glow, like pure crystal.

The lamp wicks burned hot, creating bursts of white mist from the collision of hot and cold. The immortal ladies holding the lamps wore veils, their figures shrouded in clouds and mist, seeming both real and illusory.

The Qingya scholars didn’t leave this time and almost pushed Song Qian Ji to the back.

They exchanged glances and transmitted messages:

“After seeing so many demons and monsters, coming to these immortal ladies’ place truly feels like moving from a spider den to a celestial palace.”

“This place is clean and elegant, truly where cultivators should stay.”

“Greetings, Dao Friend Song.” A melodious voice sounded.

The voice was clear and crisp like spring water striking stones, like a beauty plucking strings.

The Qingya scholars looked toward the sound and saw a slender silhouette projected on a plain screen, elegant and otherworldly.

The less they could see, the more they wanted to see clearly. All the scholars stared at the screen.

Qing Zhai bumped Song Qian Ji’s arm, whispering: “Why are you stunned? That’s Immortal Lady Miao Yan!”

Song Qian Ji wasn’t dazed. The bead on his body that had shown no reaction until now finally flickered with light when he entered this place.

Then it lost its sensing and showed no more movement.

Song Qian Ji stood in place and nodded: “Immortal Lady Miao Yan.”

His gaze swept past the screen, scanning the scene.

The female cultivators wore specially made veils that blocked spiritual probing and were covered from head to toe by their clothes, not even showing their hands.

Song Qian Ji couldn’t see their faces, let alone distinguish between them, and was momentarily stunned.

This attire reminded him of He Qing Qing when they first met. The Celestial Sound Sect used to like showing their faces, but he didn’t know when hiding faces had become fashionable.

Wu Xiang’s avatar was disguised as a female cultivator. Wouldn’t he feel awkward?

In his previous life, even when escaping for his life, disguising himself as a beggar or a fool, he never dared disguise himself as a female cultivator. Because of limited contact, he couldn’t convincingly imitate one and would instead attract attention.

The silhouette behind the screen moved, instantly capturing everyone’s gaze.

After much anticipation, she finally appeared—a face of extraordinary beauty, like a bright moon illuminating the ice cave.

Her beauty outshined all others, making a thousand flowers instantly lose their color.

The scholars were momentarily stunned before remembering to greet her.

However in recent years, debates have emerged about “whether Miao Yan is truly the most beautiful,” “if Miao Yan isn’t the most beautiful, what is the standard of beauty for female cultivators,” and “whether beauty should have a standard,” with some people devaluing Miao Yan to worthlessness to assert their viewpoints when Miao Yan truly stood before them, the Qingya scholars still showed friendliness and eagerness.

Except for Qing Zhai, Zi Mo, and several cultivators who had attended the Hua Wei banquet with Zi Ye Wen Shu—they had heard Miao Yan play the pipa and seen her in a disheveled state, so looking at her now, they didn’t find her as enchanting.

Song Qian Ji frowned slightly.

Something was wrong. The curve of her smile was wrong. Miao Yan’s smile should reach her lips but not her eyes.

Looking more carefully, this person’s appearance was identical to Miao Yan’s, but her movements lacked Miao Yan’s flowing grace, and her demeanor had a subtle sense of incongruity.

She was merely imitating Miao Yan, copying without capturing the essence.

Song Qian Ji walked closer, so close that “Miao Yan” had to step back, softly asking: “Does Dao Friend have a business?”

“Dao Friend Song, what are you doing!” Zi Mo pulled him back, “Don’t be disrespectful.”

“Meeting the immortal lady for the first time, I wanted to look carefully.” After saying this, Song Qian Ji turned and asked another veiled female cultivator beside “Miao Yan”:

“Would the immortal lady allow me to look at you?”

That female cultivator was confused, hesitating for a moment before lifting her veil, her face slightly red: “Dao Friend Song wants to look at me?”

How strange. After seeing Miao Yan, the world’s most beautiful woman, he still had an interest in looking at others.

Since ancient times, green leaves set off red flowers. After seeing the red flower, who would still love to look at green leaves?

“Excuse me. Thank you.”

After looking, Song Qian Ji asked the next female cultivator the same question.

His tone was serious. Although he only looked for a moment, he looked earnestly, then stepped back after looking.

The Qingya scholars couldn’t stop him and could only transmit messages in despair:

“It’s over! Senior Brother Supervisor’s reputation is completely ruined!”

“Song Qian Ji, what is the meaning of this!” The “Miao Yan” summoned her zither and interrupted coldly.

“I’m curious,” Song Qian Ji said.

The “fake Miao Yan” was not Wu Xiang, and he couldn’t be certain which one was Wu Xiang’s avatar.

Having killed him once before, Song Qian Ji wasn’t in a hurry. This person was willing to disguise as a female cultivator to infiltrate this place—let’s see what he wanted to do.

In his previous life, there had been no Celestial Sound Sect group in the ice cave, no Miao Yan, no Wu Xiang.

Fortunately, he had come, Song Qian Ji thought.

With just Zi Ye Wen Shu alone and one Snow Blade knife, they could slash through all the demons in the secret realm but couldn’t break through the web of human desires and greed.

Miao Yan paused, then waved her sleeve and said: “Dao Friend was disrespectful first. Please forgive my Celestial Sound Sect for not being able to continue hosting Dao Friend. See him out.”

Seeing Miao Yan angry, the Qingya scholars apologized profusely and hurriedly pulled Song Qian Ji away to take their leave.

After they had gone far away, the “fake Miao Yan’s” expression turned submissive as she walked in front of another female cultivator and bowed.

Only then did that female cultivator speak: “This Song Qian Ji is not right.”

It was also Miao Yan’s voice.

The other female cultivators gathered around: “Senior Sister, what’s wrong?”

“His eyes,” Miao Yan said.

“Although his behavior was somewhat strange, his eyes were clear and proper, not like a madman,” said the female cultivator disguised as Miao Yan.

“You don’t understand.” Miao Yan smiled faintly. Even with another face, her smile was just as perfect, making people dizzy.

“Zi Ye Wen Shu may be cold, but when he looks at living people, he sees living people. This Song Qian Ji seems gentle, but when he looks at you, it’s like looking at this beautiful jade-green gauze lamp. Do you understand?”

“Senior Sister, I truly don’t understand. Why don’t I go with him tonight and observe him more carefully?”

Miao Yan was silent for a moment, seemingly in thought, while the female cultivators waited quietly.

“It might be dangerous for you to go alone,” she finally said. “I’ll accompany you personally.”

“Thank you, Senior Sister.” The female cultivator disguised as Miao Yan was deeply moved. “Only sect upheaval has forced Senior Sister to endure such humiliation in this secret realm. Believe that Elder Aunt Wang Shu will certainly set things right. In this world, evil ultimately cannot triumph over good!”

“That’s right,” another person agreed. “Once we succeed this time, the Jiang Yun master and disciple can no longer act tyrannically!”

“When we leave the secret realm, we won’t have to see those masters and disciples again. I don’t know how far Elder Aunt Wang Shu will go, but those outer sect dogs raised by He Qing Qing should all be beaten and killed!”

Miao Yan remained silent, her expression cold.

Everyone observed her reaction and said no more.

…

The ice cave was not a plate of loose sand, but a ship sailing on a stormy sea.

Zi Ye Wen Shu held the helm, and apart from dealing with the wind, waves, and sea beasts, he also had to handle teammates from four cabins with different styles and logic, who attempted to seize freshwater or wreck the ship.

And with Song Qian Ji aboard, regardless of what each party thought or their purposes, they tacitly agreed that someone should be sent to stand guard with him.

The night deepened.

Silvery moonlight slanted into the cave entrance, and within the howling wind outside, the song of spirit beasts sounded again.

Song Qian Ji, with the black knife on his back, strolled out like he was taking a leisurely walk.

The Qingya scholars watched his silhouette disappear, remembering the previous fierce battle, and they all shuddered involuntarily.

The cultivators in this cave could now move and speak, but they all carried injuries of varying degrees.

“Dao Friend Song said we don’t need to go,” Zi Mo said anxiously. “Are we not going to follow?”

Another young disciple said: “I think we should go. He’s unreliable! This person claimed to come to help us escape our predicament, but since arriving, he hasn’t done anything useful, just keeps diving into crowds of female cultivators! Can looking at beautiful women solve our difficulties?”

Qing Zhai thought for a moment: “I don’t think Dao Friend Song is the type to crave flowers and lust after beauty. The female cultivators also get along well with him.”

“That’s just out of respect for Senior Brother Supervisor! Now everyone knows he’s a friend of the Qingya Supervisor, yet he doesn’t cherish Senior Brother’s reputation!”

Song Qian Ji walked out of the ice cave to bask in the moonlight, breathe fresh air, and stretch lazily while holding the Snow Blade knife.

The roughly arranged protective array at the entrance was like a semi-transparent shield, with cracks already visible.

A passage wide enough for one person to enter and exit was left in the center.

In the past, every night, Zi Ye Wen Shu would stand here alone, silently wielding his sword.

One man guarding the pass, ten thousand were unable to break through.

No matter how many injuries he sustained or how many bones were broken, he could not retreat or tire.

In the vast night, the singing drew closer, with spirit beasts densely covering the hills.

Standing here, Song Qian Ji recalled the blood they had shed in his previous life.

He looked up at the moon, suddenly smiled, and swung his blade.

“Crash!”

The paper-thin protective array shattered in response.