Not long after the news of True Man Xu Yun’s defeat and injury reached the Immortal Alliance, it was transmitted to Thousand Channels Prefecture via a self-immolating talisman.

The righteous alliance’s fleet hovered outside the clouds, caring little for what happened to the earthbound “ants” below, and knowing nothing of the underground secret passage connecting Hongfu and Thousand Channels.

Under the secret arrangements of Hongfu’s Immortal Official, messages between the two prefectures were transmitted without spiritual energy, to avoid alarming the alliance cultivators.

The message talisman passed from Wei Zhen Yu’s hands to Meng He Ze’s, where it immediately burned to ashes.

Ji Chen stretched his neck but couldn’t see the good news. Though somewhat regretful, he smiled and said: “This is great! Even Xu Yun couldn’t stop Brother Song. Let’s see what other tricks they have.”

Wei Zhen Yu frowned slightly: “I wonder how difficult the battle was for Senior Brother Song, whether he was injured, and if so, how badly.”

Meng He Ze optimistically said: “Since there’s no mention of Senior Brother being injured, it means he’s fine. Let’s spread the news first. Tonight everyone will take turns keeping watch and eating meat.”

Wei Zhen Yu sighed: “Eat, go ahead and eat. I’ll have someone prepare the spices.”

The Academy Minister led the academy children to beat copper gongs and play suona horns:

“Fellow villagers, Song Wang has defeated Xu Yun in the snow plains! That dog thief Xu Yun has already hidden in his sect and doesn’t dare come out!”

“The battle isn’t over yet, but victory will ultimately belong to us!”

In the scorching summer, the people of Thousand Channels remained vigilant, ready for battle at any moment.

The air was filled with the scent of soil, moisture, and the smell of gunpowder and sulfur.

No one harvested the wheat in the fields; it grew wildly in the wind, appearing like a golden ocean in the distance.

Once the gong sounded, the good news spread from mouth to mouth:

“Who is this dog thief Xu Yun?”

“That fellow is the Sect Master of Hua Wei Sect. He ordered the attack on our Thousand Channels.”

“Well then! So it was him. Song Wang is mighty! Heaven blesses Thousand Channels!”

In the evening, people put down their firearms and weapons, gathering around bonfires to sing farming songs.

During wartime celebrations, alcohol was forbidden, but meat was allowed.

Marbled beast meat brushed with honey was placed on roasting racks, and sprinkled generously with Thousand Channels’ thirteen spices.

The crispy outer layer wrapped around tender meat, its aroma wafting in the wind, making mouths water.

Amid the songs and the smell of meat, long-taut nerves finally relaxed, and accumulated fatigue was unknowingly eliminated.

Xu Kan Shan and Qiu Da Cheng were gambling with several disciples, some betting the war would end within a month, others betting the righteous alliance would retreat the very next day.

Ji Xing had a hearty appetite, eating half a roast lamb. Zhou Xiao Yun handed her sour plum soup beside her, advising her to eat more slowly.

Laughter filled the air as the bonfire crackled.

Ji Chen: “Actually, I’ve been wondering why there’s been no movement from Qingya. What exactly did Brother Song put in the box for Zi Ye Wenshu?”

The Qingya disciples were in mourning for the Calligraphy Saint, keeping their doors closed and remaining as quiet and invisible in the cultivation world as if they weren’t there at all.

Wei Zhen Yu chimed in: “Why don’t we have that box, but only he has one? If there were matters concerning Thousand Channels to be arranged, they should be entrusted to us. Zi Ye Wenshu is far away in Qingya, and he’s rigid, barely speaking ten sentences a day. What’s the point of associating with such a person…”

It was Wei Ping’s typical tone. Meng He Ze’s nose twitched, catching a faint familiar tea scent amid the strong aroma of roast meat, and he abruptly interrupted:

“Have you eaten too much? Comfort breeds gossip. Senior Brother Song has his reasons for what he does. Don’t ask too many questions, and don’t meddle.”

Wei Zhen Yu gave him a cool sideways glance: “Song Qian Ji isn’t here, so why are you two acting like righteous gentlemen? Are you saying you’re not curious about what’s in that box?”

“When it comes to pretense, who’s better at it than Steward Wei, isn’t that right, Wang Wei?” Meng He Ze said coldly. “I am curious, but I won’t make random guesses!”

The topic was forcibly ended. The three finished their roast meat absent-mindedly as if each had a cat hidden in their chest.

Ji Chen stroked his chin, seemingly casually saying: “I don’t think Brother Song is the type to leave behind spirit stones or magical tools.”

Wei Zhen Yu remarked impassively: “Hmm, it’s probably not cultivation techniques or secret manuals either.”

Meng He Ze immediately rejected this: “You two don’t understand Senior Brother Song at all. What he would put in a box would be something he cherishes, like potato flowers.”

Wei Zhen Yu praised exaggeratedly: “Wow, you know him so well!”

Then he abruptly changed his tone: “Who just said they wouldn’t make guesses?”

Meng He Ze’s expression stiffened slightly, and he said no more.

Ji Chen lowered his head to hide his smile, then looked up with a serious expression: “It’s fine to send bamboo shoots and potatoes normally, but sending potato flowers before a great battle? That’s not right, it doesn’t make sense. In my opinion, it certainly isn’t…”

Before he could finish, his expression suddenly changed: “Enemy attack!”

The protective formation of Thousand Channels was under Ji Chen’s control. Wei Zhen Yu didn’t even ask before standing up and shouting: “Prepare for battle!”

Meng He Ze had already grabbed his sword and was calling to the Song Academy disciples.

The singing stopped abruptly, replaced by the beating of war drums.

The city defense team, charge hunting team, firearms team, weapons team, and other small squads that had been relaxed and joking moments before instantly assembled.

“Boom!”

An explosion sounded like thunder.

In the blink of an eye, the sky above Thousand Channels rolled with “thunder.”

Various magical tools and talismans attacked the protective formation in dense waves, causing repeated explosions, with colorful lights illuminating half the night sky.

Streams of light flew from the alliance’s cloud ships, as cultivators riding flying swords surged toward Thousand Channels like a tidal wave.

Ji Chen rapidly manipulated the formation plate, controlling the formation with all his might.

Meng He Ze prepared to lead his team into battle.

“Be careful, this time is different. Don’t engage in a head-on fight,” Wei Zhen Yu stopped him, his expression grave.

The alliance cultivators had never shown such united momentum before. Perhaps they were stimulated by Xu Yun’s injury.

Something was wrong—their cultivation levels had generally increased. How could they change so quickly overnight?

Wei Zhen Yu made a decisive decision and ordered the cannons to be activated.

The cannons, designed and invented by the Engineering Minister, as heavy as iron mountains, finally made their appearance.

When the cannons fired, the earth shook, and dust filled the sky.

The opposing offensive temporarily slowed, and the pressure on Ji Chen’s shoulders suddenly lessened.

Meng He Ze seized this opportunity to lead the Song Academy disciples out of the protective formation, preparing to catch the enemy off guard.

Just as they reached the formation’s edge, a zither sound suddenly came from above Hongfu Prefecture.

The zither notes were urgent and mournful, like a funeral bell.

The alliance cultivators retreated at the sound of the zither, leaving the Thousand Channels crowd bewildered.

How could it end before it even began?

Faced with the alliance cultivators whose cultivation had increased dramatically and who came with great momentum, the people of Thousand Channels had prepared themselves for a bitter, all-night battle.

Who would have thought that after all the thunder, there would be so little rain? From beginning to end, the other side attacked for only half a quarter-hour before hastily returning.

Wei Zhen Yu, Meng He Ze, and Ji Chen stood on the city wall, not daring to relax at all, facing the direction of Hongfu, and quietly observing the situation.

Late in the night, a secret message from the Hongfu underground passage explained—that an assassin had infiltrated the Hua Wei Sect. Xu Yun had been assassinated and was hanging by a thread. He Qing Qing, the current head of the Sound of Immortals Sect, was urgently requested to heal him.

“Is it true?” Ji Chen couldn’t believe it: “Assassinated? That dog thief stays in Hua Wei Sect like a thousand-year-old turtle never leaving its shell. Who could assassinate him in Hua Wei Sect? Are they crazy, not wanting to live?”

Wei Zhen Yu: “What’s so strange about it? Assassinations require bold and risky moves. Don’t forget, someone once attempted to assassinate the Thousand Channels King in Thousand Channels itself.”

Assassination was a profession that couldn’t be shown to the world, without face or name, needing neither to be remembered nor thanked by anyone.

“I almost forgot, you’re an assassin too,” Meng He Ze said. “Who do you think it was this time?”

Wei Zhen Yu: “A lean camel is still bigger than a horse. Even if Xu Yun was injured in the snow plains, not just anyone could assassinate him. Moreover, Hua Wei Sect’s formations are tight, and to infiltrate and wait for an opportunity until now… Many might want to do such a thing, but only one person could achieve it.”

“Is it him?” Ji Chen asked.

“It’s him,” Meng He Ze nodded.

They had all thought of the same person.

Wei Zhen Yu suddenly shouted at the night sky: “Hey!”

Meng He Ze and Ji Chen were startled, looking at him in confusion.

Wei Zhen Yu raised both hands, putting them in front of his face like a trumpet, and shouted: “If you want to come back, then come back! Why act so cool? Do you think you’re impressive? You’re just an assassin, why play the hero?”

Meng He Ze thought for a moment, then continued shouting: “Half the fabric in the warehouse has gone moldy, and the other half has faded. Your cat eats too much, wasting food just like you. Don’t expect anyone to feed it for you. You—” his voice suddenly lowered, as if somewhat embarrassed, “your cat misses you.”

Ji Chen shouted: “He means he misses you, we miss you, Song Academy misses—”

Meng He Ze angrily roared: “I never said that!”

Wei Zhen Yu laughed: “He did say it, he says it every day—”

Meng He Ze: “Nonsense!”

The night in Thousand Channels was cool as water, with stars twinkling like huge gems. A refreshing westerly wind blew, making colorful clouds chase the bright moon.

The three took turns shouting at the distant night sky, laughing and joking, their voices soaring into the clouds, drifting toward an unknown distance.