A white figure flew diagonally through the air, skirts fluttering, drawing a beautiful arc through the sky, charging directly toward Song Qian Ji.

Song Qian Ji instinctively drew his sword, but the newcomer harbored no killing intent and approached openly—not an assassin.

A familiar face rapidly grew larger. Song Qian Ji was momentarily distracted—

Why was Miao Yan flying over with a comb in her hand? What was she planning to do?

“You…”

Just as he hesitated for this instant, the scene before his eyes suddenly distorted.

Everyone saw a female cultivator of stunning beauty, crossing the air in flight, grabbing Song Qian Ji’s tattered sleeve.

Who else could it be but Immortal Miao Yan?

A white light shot forth from Miao Yan’s palm, like a dagger cutting through the night before them.

Miao Yan was a music cultivator who didn’t touch weapons. Moreover, she had always been the face of the Sound Immortal Sect. Under public scrutiny, she would never do anything inappropriate—at most, she might say a few words to Song Qian Ji.

Perhaps even Song Qian Ji himself thought so.

Everyone assumed Miao Yan couldn’t harm Song Qian Ji, but no one expected him to be taken away directly.

Everything happened too quickly. Even Meng He Ze, who had been personally instructed in movement techniques by Song Qian Ji, and Ji Chen, who excelled at long-distance formation deployments, couldn’t react in time. They could only watch helplessly as the two vanished into thin air.

The cheers came to an abrupt halt.

“Senior Brother… is gone?!” Ji Chen exclaimed in shock.

“After them!” Meng He Ze urged anxiously.

“Which way do we go?”

“Toward—”

The wilderness stretched endlessly, with a bright moon and sparse stars.

Meng He Ze drew his sword but was at a loss.

At this moment, everyone’s level of shock was comparable to witnessing the legendary fierce beast and Spring Mountain earlier.

“What secret treasure did Immortal Miao Yan use that could break through space and transfer instantly?”

“The King of Song was kidnapped by Immortal Miao Yan?! Indeed, if you live long enough, you’ll witness all sorts of things!”

It was common knowledge that Song Qian Ji and Miao Yan did not get along.

When Song Qian Ji was still just a small disciple of the Hua Wei Sect, he became the first to question the cultivation world’s beauty standards with a single phrase: “A beauty is but a skeleton with rouge.”

On Hua Wei Mountain, Song Qian Ji faced the Sound Immortal Orchestra alone with just a flute. Miao Yan was defeated, her pipa strings broken, and afterward, the Sound Immortal Sect’s senior sister He Qingqing stepped forward to counter Song Qian Ji’s flute sounds.

Miao Yan had been invincible with her two weapons—stunning beauty and music cultivation—but repeatedly faced rejection and setbacks from Song Qian Ji.

Who wouldn’t harbor resentment?

Earlier, after Song Qian Ji’s rescue, someone in the crowd shouted for the Sound Immortal Sect to hand over their people, but was quickly dissuaded.

Half because of the power disparity between the two and half because of Song Qian Ji’s reputation as a philanderer. Most people speculated that he had accumulated new romantic debts, which had led to tonight’s incident.

“Immortal Miao Yan can’t defeat the King of Thousand Channels. Even if she takes him away, she can’t keep him captive. Why should we worry?”

“This is the Thousand Channels King’s matter; outsiders probably shouldn’t interfere.”

Meng He Ze thought it was nonsense—his Senior Brother would never have entanglements with Miao Yan—but turning around, he saw that Wei Zhen Yu had already disappeared.

“Over there! He’s chasing Immortal He!” Ji Chen exclaimed.

“Get on.” Without another word, Meng He Ze pulled Ji Chen onto his flying sword. While pursuing, he transmitted a message to Wei Zhen Yu: “Senior Brother has been abducted, the situation is unclear, and you have time to chase after another immortal?”

Wei Zhen Yu wanted to curse at him, but thought of something and softened his tone: “When the incident occurred, everyone was panicking, but that Immortal He immediately left her group, moving rapidly southwest.”

Ji Chen: “Are you saying He Qingqing knows where Miao Yan went?”

Wei Zhen Yu explained with unusual patience: “The Sound Immortal Sect’s two factions have been feuding for a long time. The two ‘senior sisters,’ Miao Yan and He Qingqing, were put forward by Wangshu and Jiangyun to uphold the sect’s honor and compete with each other. He Qingqing would naturally be wary of Miao Yan. Even if she doesn’t know Miao Yan’s exact location, she must have tracking methods, or how could she set off so decisively?”

The person who understands you best may not be yourself, but perhaps your adversary.

Meng He Ze secretly berated himself for not being as perceptive as Wei Zhen Yu: “He Qingqing has accelerated. Do you have a faster-flying magical artifact?”

Wei Zhen Yu negotiated: “I have a high-grade small cloud shuttle that can carry you both. After we find Song Qian Ji, I want to see him alone first.”

“No problem,” Ji Chen agreed immediately.

Meng He Ze spoke simultaneously: “Let’s find him first, then discuss.”

As the three rushed forward, they sent messages back, instructing the disciples of Thousand Channels and the Northern Desert to temporarily unite, hold their positions, and support each other.

The cloud shuttle cut through the night, trailing behind a blue streak of light.

…

The moon traveled between clouds, half-emerging from the edge of a cliff.

No sounds of birds or beasts could be heard around them, only the howling of the wind and the roaring of water below the cliff.

“Where is this place?” Song Qian Ji asked.

Miao Yan examined him in the dim moonlight. She saw him slightly furrowing his brow, looking only somewhat confused and surprised, finding it troublesome but not angry.

Or perhaps this matter wasn’t even worth his anger.

“I don’t know either. But I’m certain we’ve gone to a very distant place.”

Miao Yan opened her palm. The glow of the transverse comb dimmed and broke, shattering into two pieces.

It was a one-time magical artifact, useless after being used.

The cliff was too high, and the mountain wind was piercingly cold.

Miao Yan saw the sword in Song Qian Ji’s hand and couldn’t help but shudder, thinking that if Song Qian Ji killed her with one strike and pushed her off the cliff, he wouldn’t leave any trace.

Yet she heard him sigh: “Such a precious treasure could have saved your life in times of danger. You shouldn’t have wasted it so impulsively.”

Miao Yan suddenly wanted to cry but suppressed it.

If Song Qian Ji had harshly rebuked her for her improper actions or sarcastically mocked her foolishness, she could have remained clear-headed. But now she spoke loudly: “I wasn’t being impulsive!”

“Why, then?” Song Qian Ji asked while removing his fox-tail bracelet to reveal his true appearance.

Miao Yan said: “If I hadn’t done this, you wouldn’t have met me, nor would you have answered my questions.”

“Ask away.”

Miao Yan looked directly at him: “Song Xun was not Song Xun. Why did you deceive me?”

Song Qian Ji: “Since He Yun was not He Yun, naturally Song Xun was not Song Xun either.”

“True, I deceived you too,” Miao Yan asked further. “Besides your identity, were the words you spoke to He Yun also false?”

“That night, the answers I gave to your questions were all truthful.”

Song Qian Ji thought of He Yun’s delusions and obsessions, suddenly feeling the absurdity of it all.

Miao Yan said resentfully: “A false identity yet speaking true words—what exactly do you want?!”

Do you just want to see me end up like this?

Do you just want to drive me mad?

Song Qian Ji was startled by her words, then couldn’t help but sigh again:

“Troubles do not seek people; people seek troubles themselves. Immortal Miao Yan, I don’t owe you anything. Everyone likes you, so it doesn’t matter if I’m one less. You have to accept that some people don’t like you. You ask what I want—I just want to have nothing to do with you.”

His tone was calm, not deliberately insulting or spiteful, merely stating facts.

Precisely because of this, each sentence he spoke felt to Miao Yan like being stabbed in the face with a sword.

Each strike was fatal, bleeding profusely.

It turned out one didn’t need a real sword to kill.

Miao Yan felt as if she had already died once. Swallowing the sweet blood in her throat, she said, half crying, half laughing: “What if I wasn’t Miao Yan, but just He Yun?!”

Song Qian Ji pointed at the sky.

The night curtain hung low, with the moon half-hidden behind the mountains and half-concealed in clouds. Only through the cloud layers could one see a faint glow.

“If you desire the true moon of the nine heavens, seek it yourself. The great way has no boat or oars—who can send you there?”

In the vast sea of clouds, with no one to accompany, how could there be “sending to seek”?

Song Qian Ji’s pupils were like calm lake waters under the moonlight.

Miao Yan was stunned, murmuring: “So it was just flowers in a mirror, moon in the water—a misunderstanding. He Yun was false, Song Xun was false, and how could Miao Yan not be false as well? Where is my true moon? When can I play the true Wind and Snow Formation Melody?”

Song Qian Ji suddenly frowned, gesturing for her to be silent.

Moments later, footsteps, the clash of weapons, and sounds of argument steadily approached.

There were many people, at least a thousand.

The towering boulders and tall pine trees perfectly concealed the two of them.

Song Qian Ji breathed a sigh of relief—not an ambush. These two groups were focused on guarding against each other and hadn’t noticed people behind the rocks.

Though the two groups had friction, they were negotiating. This usually wasn’t a blood feud but rather a dispute over unclaimed treasures and the allocation of acquired resources.

He had no interest in participating in the secret realm’s treasure hunts and was about to leave when he suddenly stopped.

He heard his name.

Miao Yan’s face turned pale; she had also heard what one group was saying:

“Just now, news spread that Song Qian Ji is also in the secret realm.”

Song Qian Ji thought the news travels fast indeed.

The second sentence rang out:

“Sect Leader Xu Yun has secretly ordered that if he comes, use every possible means to kill him in the secret realm.”

Sect Leader Xu Yun?

Song Qian Ji’s mind stirred. Along this journey, he encountered numerous sects but never met anyone from the Hua Wei Sect.

After closing its gates, the Hua Wei Sect’s status had fallen to a low point, with Xu Yun in seclusion.

In contrast, Chen Hong Zhu’s small Hua Wei Sect, despite repeated setbacks, had been flourishing.

Three years ago, when the Hua Wei Sect used the remnant souls of their ancestors to kill him, they were beaten back and left with psychological trauma. Where did they now find the courage?

Could it be that Xu Yun had found the Silver Lotus of the Dead Sea, greatly improved his cultivation, and emerged from seclusion?

As Song Qian Ji pondered, he suddenly heard another female voice, somewhat familiar:

“No! The King of Thousand Channels has won people’s hearts. Your actions are unjustified and will surely affect the sect’s prestige!”

It was Chen Hong Zhu.