At the Hua Wei Sect’s grand ceremony, Song Qian Ji borrowed Zi Ye Wen xShu’s jade phoenix flute.

The flute’s sound had been hoarse, growing increasingly lonely as he played, like an icy spring’s quiet sobbing or the north wind rolling snow.

But this purple bamboo short flute was only half the length of the jade flute. When its sound emerged, it was clear and lively, like hundreds of birds singing on a spring day.

The two from the Celestial Sound Sect were stunned by the sound, finding it even stranger.

He Yun thought this wasn’t good and immediately searched her storage pouch, wanting to give him a different instrument.

Music cultivators of the Celestial Sound Sect mostly treasured their instruments dearly. Having personally used zithers, lutes, and pipas, they were extremely reluctant to lend them to those who didn’t understand music.

Though this bamboo flute wasn’t a high-level magical tool, it was adorably small in appearance. A suitor had given it to her, and she had casually accepted it but never played it.

When someone asked to borrow an instrument, she instinctively lent this “display piece” she had never used.

She hadn’t known it would produce such a sound.

This sound was too gentle and ethereal, completely incapable of suppressing the spirit beasts. Instead, it seemed to accompany their singing.

Previously, when they had played music, they chose rapid and passionate tunes, but the spirit beasts were barely affected.

Under the interference of the spirit beasts’ songs, the Celestial Sound Technique had even more limited benefit for weapon and magic cultivators, at most only helping to calm and regulate breathing.

Song Qian Ji tried a few notes but seemed very satisfied with the tone and began playing directly.

The flute’s melody flew out, gentle and ethereal, like a babbling spring stream bathed in moonlight. Amid the rippling waves, silver light scattered, as clear springs struck stones with tinkling sounds.

The spirit beasts’ songs used this “spring water momentum” to climb higher and higher, becoming increasingly shrill, their attacks growing more fierce.

Mu Xia cried out in alarm, hurriedly adding a stack of new talismans as the spirit beasts’ claws nearly tore through her protective shield.

The other star positions similarly faced doubled pressure.

Liu Three shouted: “Brother Song, maybe we should stop playing this thing—it’s just encouraging them!”

Song Qian Ji ignored him and focused only on playing the flute.

The spirit beasts revealed their frenzied state, their claws and fangs growing larger, their hair like whips.

Within the array, everyone suffered. The protector loudly rebuked, the rogue cultivator cursed, and the female cultivators complained continuously.

He Yun concentrated her spirit and listened carefully for a moment. Her expression changed from strange and worried to surprised and joyful.

“Wonderful,” her thin lips beneath the veil uttered these two words.

After speaking, she sat cross-legged on the ground and summoned a zither, placing it horizontally across her knees.

“Twang!”

A zither sound, gentle and melodious.

This wasn’t her zither, but she was confident she could play it well.

At this moment, among all the Celestial Sound Sect female cultivators in the cave, who hadn’t received her guidance while practicing the zither?

The zither sounds deliberately harmonized with and was guided by the flute, gradually merging.

Song Qian Ji was playing the flute and couldn’t speak, so he could only transmit messages using spiritual energy.

Thus He Yun heard that person’s voice sounding faintly, as if standing behind her speaking:

“Don’t listen to the extraneous sounds, just harmonize with my melody.”

She settled her heart.

The songs were extraneous sounds, her companions’ calls were extraneous sounds, the wind sounds, water sounds, tree sounds, fighting sounds—all were extraneous sounds.

In her world, suddenly she could only hear that person playing the flute.

The zither music poured forth.

If the flute sound was like moonlight illuminating a spring stream, then the zither sound was like flowers falling on water, ethereal and delicate.

“Is this the time to play music? One person playing a tune is already enough for us to endure…” Before Old Zheng could finish speaking, one of the paired maces in his hand was knocked away, leaving a huge opening.

With a spirit beast inches away, he thought he would inevitably take a solid hit and break several bones. Who would have thought that the spirit beast entangling with him would suddenly turn its head to bite another of its kind on the neck?

Yin Zhu shouted: “This music has driven them completely mad!”

Some spirit beasts lost all reason, fighting without pattern or rule, as if they couldn’t feel pain, using the most vicious and cruel moves to attack each other.

Another portion attacked the array more frantically.

Mu Xia immediately summoned a konghou harp to harmonize with the zither and flute.

The melody surged, like spring wind sweeping across mountains and wilderness.

In the vast night, the heavy dark clouds were gently pushed aside by the wind, revealing clear moonlight.

After playing through once, Song Qian Ji knew the female cultivator playing the zither was intelligent and perceptive, requiring no further instruction from him.

He put down the bamboo flute, revealing signs of energy depletion.

The konghou and zither sounds didn’t stop. After two rounds, they had already become skilled, gradually entering a wonderful state.

The spirit beasts attacking each other suffered heavy casualties, and the people in the array were greatly encouraged.

Old Zheng laughed heartily: “If we can survive tonight, it proves that the seven of us together are equal to one Zi Ye Wen Shu!”

Liu Three said: “Well said! In the future, when we walk the cultivation world, our names will all be renowned heroes.” He suddenly corrected himself, “Uh, and heroines.”

“Thank you for your hard work, Immortal Ladies,” Han Bi called toward He Yun and Mu Xia, “Today we’ve witnessed the true skill of the Celestial Sound Sect. Truly impressive.”

Adversity had turned to prosperity, first sharing hardship and then sweetness. Great feelings of accomplishment and joy overwhelmed everyone.

People who normally couldn’t stand each other a thousand times over now found everything pleasing to the eye.

Seeing no movement from Song Qian Ji’s star position, they became most concerned about him.

Old Zheng said: “Dao Friend Song, you’ve maintained the array and worked for everyone all night. Can you still hold on?”

Liu Three said: “Brother Song, just hang on a bit longer, dawn is almost here. Great Yan Sect has a jar of ‘Purple Jade Brew’ that Old Leader Yan has hidden away. I’ll steal it out to treat you!”

“Why not offer to treat us sisters? The two Immortal Ladies from the Celestial Sound Sect worked just as hard. Aren’t you going to invite them?” Yin Zhu smiled. “Dao Friend Song, their cave stinks, full of smelly men. You might as well come to our place, drink some spirit tea, and smell the flowers.”

Everyone was engaged in hearty battle, speaking and laughing without restraint.

Before dawn, the people in the array had nearly exhausted their spiritual energy, their faces pale, but their eyes burning like stars.

A shrill cry sounded. Under their leader’s command, the spirit beasts gradually regained their senses and retreated early.

The dawn breeze blew across the scattered corpses and severed limbs.

This blood-filled night ended with everyone reaping abundant rewards.

Weapon cultivators and magic cultivators gained improvements in battle techniques and methods, while music cultivators gained a song.

Song Qian Ji had already removed the array.

Everyone was physically exhausted to the extreme, but mentally excited and unwilling to leave, as if they had met too late, exchanging experiences of their joint resistance.

Liu Three wanted to pull Song Qian Ji away to drink. Song Qian Ji used his scabbard to clear away the damaged array of materials:

“I still need to clean up for a moment. Everyone should go back and rest first. Tomorrow night will be another fierce battle.”

Throughout the night, his snowblade knife had never left its scabbard.

Hearing this, everyone said their goodbyes, eager to return to meditate, recover, organize their insights, and boast to their fellow disciples.

After a moment, Song Qian Ji heard footsteps behind him.

Surprisingly, that female cultivator from the Celestial Sound Sect had returned.

She stood in the battlefield’s debris, her skirt stained with blood, like a withered flower.

“Immortal Lady, the bamboo flute has already been returned to its owner.”

The female cultivator shook her head: “I didn’t come for the flute.”

Through the veil, Song Qian Ji couldn’t see her face, only feeling that her breath was unstable at this moment.

It seemed she was too fatigued from the night.

If not for the flute, then what?

“This short flute, I give it to you,” He Yun said.

Song Qian Ji smiled slightly, his tone somewhat comforting: “No need. I have no use for it anymore.”

“You mean, in the future, you won’t play that song again?!”

Her tone suddenly rose, as if she had received a tremendous shock, her figure swaying as if about to collapse.

Song Qian Ji was startled, blinking: “It’s just a song, played impromptu, dispersing when interest fades. Why be so attached?”

“Just… why be attached, why be attached,” the female cultivator murmured continuously.

They were two zhang apart, but Song Qian Ji felt profound sadness, unwillingness, and resentment surging from her.

“Does it have a name?” the female cultivator asked.

Song Qian Ji looked at the moon and thought for a moment: “Let’s call it ‘Flowers, Moon, Falling Clouds.'”

Since he had entered the secret realm, moving further from his fields and closer to his previous life, only this moon in the sky had consistently followed him, neither too far nor too near.

“Flowers, Moon, Falling Clouds—a good name,” the female cultivator said.

She lowered her head and blinked, tears suddenly falling.

The desolate, vast, wind and snow breaking array song had been the demon in her heart that confined her.

The lingering, gentle, flower moon-breaking cloud song was the moonlight that saved her from death’s edge.

Completely different songs, yet seemingly from the same hand.

The master-disciple relationship had grown cold, then the sect underwent great changes. She had rushed into the secret realm, facing danger at every step, unable to sleep well night after night.

Until tonight, someone said: “Don’t listen to the extraneous sounds.”

“What’s wrong, Immortal Lady?” Song Qian Ji was startled, somewhat afraid.

Why did she suddenly cry when they were talking so well?

Could it be that I’ve encountered… someone trying to scam me?