The Dengwen Elegant Assembly—climbing high mountains to become renowned throughout the world. Young cultivators from the thirty-six counties across the Four Continents and overseas islands, who among them didn’t come to make a name for themselves?

However, before the assembly had officially begun before anyone had climbed high to claim victory, one person had already become famous enough.

He had no power or wealth, yet thousands of disciples were utterly loyal to him.

He had seen Miao Yan with his own eyes, yet regarded her peerless beauty with disdain.

Without wielding a single weapon, he had sent the Six Worthies of Qingyan fleeing in disarray.

Tonight at Yaoguang Lake, he had broken through the encirclement alone, ignoring a hall full of treasures, only to pluck a flower from beside a beauty’s temple.

Truly, hearing one’s name cannot compare to meeting in person!

Everyone’s feelings were inexplicable as they stared at Song Qian Ji as if wanting to dissect him inside and out, to see him.

Some envied Huawei Sect for having such a genius who could bring honor to the sect at crucial moments; yet they also felt relieved their sect didn’t have such a troublemaker, disturbing the peace of the outer disciples.

Some recalled that Song Qian Ji had not yet taken a master and was rumored to have old grievances with Huawei Sect’s Affairs Hall. During the Dengwen Elegant Assembly, he could naturally switch to another sect, so they thought of recruiting such talent for their sect. Though he might be troublesome in the outer sect, such talent should be directly recruited into the inner sect, and taken as a personal disciple.

The thinking of personal disciples differed greatly from outer disciples. They normally enjoyed all the benefits of the sect; the more powerful the sect became, the more cultivation resources they could obtain, so they always considered the sect’s interests.

As for those aristocratic cultivators related to the Six Worthies of Qingyan, they were intimidated by Song Qian Ji’s lightness technique and bearing just now, and temporarily abandoned any thoughts of causing trouble.

Those six were merely protected by their ancestors’ prestige, essentially nonentities. Without direct kinship or life-and-death friendship, it wasn’t worth standing up for those six and confronting a tough character. Better to remain silent now, pretending not to know.

Chen Hong Zhu didn’t have so many thoughts, only feeling that the two Zhao family members had arrived at an extremely inopportune time.

Today had been full of twists and turns, but in the end, Huawei Sect had won, upholding the host’s reputation. Just as things were about to conclude smoothly, at this moment, Song Qian Ji’s identity was revealed.

Thinking of this, she couldn’t help but glare fiercely at Zhao Ji Heng.

Song Qian Ji heard Zhao Ji Heng’s voice and turned back with a smile: “What a coincidence.”

The reclining chair in his courtyard had been sent by Zhao Ji Heng, complete with soft cushions. Placed under the flower trellis, leaning on it felt like sinking into clouds, quite comfortable.

Thinking of the chair, he smiled.

Zhao Ji Heng was infuriated by this smile: “Just you and Meng He Ze?”

Song Qian Ji nodded.

Zhao Ji Heng was elated.

If his uncle hadn’t sternly warned him not to provoke anyone with the surname Song, how could he have endured until today?

He looked around—before him was his cousin Bi, nearly at the Golden Core stage, and around were many aristocratic children friendly with the Zhao family.

While Song Qian Ji had lost the entire outer sect’s support, bringing only Meng He Ze, surrounded, no different from a lamb entering a wolf pack.

Could heaven be helping me? Could I step on this Song fellow tonight?

With this thought, he became extremely excited, his eyes gleaming.

Suddenly he heard Zhao Bi say: “What’s wrong with Fairy Feng? Why are you in tears?”

Though he didn’t know the cause, this question both showed concern for beauty and drew everyone’s attention away from Song Qian Ji.

Zhao Ji Heng quickly followed his lead: “Fairy Feng, did these two outer sect juniors offend you? Don’t worry, with us brothers here, we won’t let them get away!”

Indeed, everyone turned to look at them, but their expressions were very strange.

Zhao Bi sensed something was wrong and quickly transmitted a message to Zhao Ji Heng, gesturing him to be quiet.

Feng Zi Yi was shocked to realize she had shed tears, hastily wiped her face, and glared at Zhao Ji Heng.

But seeing Song Qian Ji’s gentle expression, showing no signs of mockery, contempt, or impropriety, her expression softened somewhat, and she said only to Song Qian Ji:

“What did you just say? I didn’t hear clearly.”

“May I ask where this flower is grown, and how it was cultivated?”

Song Qian Ji saw the tears on her face, and though he didn’t understand, he still said: “If I have offended you in any way, I apologize to you. Please, don’t withhold your guidance.”

Feng Zi Yi was astonished.

Just now, this person had been invincible, like taking an enemy general’s head from the midst of ten thousand troops. Now, holding the flower, speaking softly to her, he was extremely proper and polite.

Her tone inevitably softened: “My Dayan Sect has a spirit spring. Plants touching the spring become vibrant with life; birds and beasts drinking from it can gain human-like intelligence. These clusters of jade-white flowers grow by the spirit of spring, day and night receiving its blessings, naturally extraordinary. But in recent years, the spiritual energy has gradually depleted. Cultivators drinking the spring water no longer experience healing effects…”

“Senior Sister!” A fellow disciple behind her interrupted.

Feng Zi Yi fell silent.

The fellow disciple breathed a sigh of relief, fearing that if she continued, their sect’s secrets would be completely exposed.

Song Qian Ji’s heart stirred upon hearing “spirit spring.”

The Immortal Spring was in his dantian, nourishing his spiritual channels day and night.

But the pressure of such a heavenly treasure was overwhelming, and he temporarily couldn’t touch it. If he could extract a few drops to let his plants absorb it, wouldn’t that be wonderful?

Perhaps he could create a cultivation technique incorporating the absorption of spiritual energy into natural breathing, so whether eating, sleeping, planting, or watering flowers, he could improve his cultivation with each breath. Once his cultivation was sufficient, he could access the Immortal Spring.

This idea was truly extraordinary. If the Song Qian Ji of his previous life had heard it, he would have cursed it as delusional daydreaming—how could cultivation be so easy?

But now he instinctively felt it was feasible if he just put his mind to it.

Feng Zi Yi saw his genuine joy and thought: I only answered him once, and he’s this happy?

No matter how slow Zhao Ji Heng was, he now sensed something was wrong. Though the pavilion was crowded, not a single person was targeting Song Qian Ji.

He looked at his cousin, arms full of painting scrolls.

Zhao Bi’s face had already turned ashen.

Feng Zi Yi tapped the jade table: “When I placed this Jiao King pearl on the table, I never intended to take it back. Otherwise, if word got out, those who know would say you didn’t want it, and those who don’t know might think Feng Zi Yi doesn’t keep her word! Take it, consider it compensation for my disciples violating the rules by using spiritual tools on the lake earlier.”

Zhao Ji Heng couldn’t believe it, utterly devastated. You two didn’t fight, but instead are apologizing to each other?

He widened his eyes, watching as people from other sects successively expressed their positions, asking Song Qian Ji and Meng He Ze to accept the spiritual tools.

The world has gone mad!

“We are convinced and must honor our promise.”

“Since we gave our word, our sect will not renege.”

“We hope the two friends will give us face and not hold grudges!”

Some wanted to show goodwill to Song and Meng, enticing them to join their own sects. Others didn’t want to appear narrow-minded or petty compared to Dayan Sect.

Senior Brother Song looked at Meng He Ze’s expression and smiled: “Go ahead and collect them.”

Meng He Ze was delighted, though outwardly composed, taking out his storage bag and packing the items one by one.

Song Qian Ji expressed his thanks, then bid farewell, leading Meng He Ze away.

Chen Hong Zhu asked: “Has everyone had their fill of enjoyment tonight?”

Everyone, watching Song and Meng’s figures disappear into the distance, declared they were satisfied.

Feng Zi Yi touched her empty temple, stood up: “I’m tired. Let’s go back.”

Before long, the pavilion was empty.

Only the shattered moon reflected in the lake center, and willow strands floated by the shore.

Zhao Bi gripped his folding fan tightly and said stiffly: “Let’s go.”

Zhao Ji Heng was greatly alarmed: “Then shall we deliver these paintings another time?”

His cousin had poured his heart and efforts into them, all for tonight, to display the paintings before everyone, gain a reputation for beautifully painting beauties, and stand out.

Zhao Bi’s face was gloomy as he gave him a cold glare: “Burn them!”

“What?” Zhao Ji Heng was reluctant.

Zhao Bi gazed toward the lakeside, where the two figures had already merged with the night and distant mountains, no longer visible.

He gritted his teeth: “Don’t ask anymore. This plan is ruined; we’ll have to devise another strategy for the calligraphy and painting test!”

***

Meng He Ze walked along the mountain path.

He felt as if his feet weren’t on solid stone steps but on clouds, as if he were floating in the sky.

Getting rich overnight couldn’t be better than this.

When they reached the outer disciples’ dormitory area, he finally regained some sense: “Senior Brother Song, you’re amazing! We’ve struck it rich!”

Song Qian Ji was puzzled: “What use are they to me? They’re for you.”

“For me?”

Song Qian Ji nodded: “You’re not angry anymore, are you?”

Meng He Ze was startled, suddenly feeling ashamed.

So Senior Brother Song, knowing I was about to break through and shouldn’t get angry, let me take the treasures to calm down. Why do I always make Senior Brother worry about me?

He shook his head repeatedly: “No, Senior Brother won them, they should all go to you!”

“When have you ever seen me use spiritual tools?” Song Qian Ji smiled: “These tools have now been legitimized. Later, when you take a good master and aren’t a rogue cultivator anymore, you won’t fear others coveting them. When you become a great power, what others willingly give you, you can accept. What others don’t give, you cannot use your cultivation to seize, or even if you gain temporary advantage, you’ll eventually pay the price and find it hard to achieve true attainment…”

He suddenly stopped speaking. In this life, Meng He Ze wouldn’t become the Evil Buddha; he was already inherently upright—why lecture him with hard-earned lessons?

It was only because he knew they would eventually part ways that he couldn’t help saying a few more words.

Before leaving, he would remind Meng He Ze of the family massacre two years later—that would fulfill his moral obligation.

In my previous life, I pushed you off a cliff. In this life, at least I haven’t harmed you.

Meng He Ze thought: If I cannot take the same master as Senior Brother Song, I’d rather not go at all.

Otherwise, who would pour tea and water for Senior Brother, who would make soup and noodles?

Song Qian Ji remembered the painting scrolls in Zhao Ji Heng’s arms.

There were too many people writing and painting lately. He had heard of the “Huawei paper shortage”—because the Book Saint was coming to Huawei Sect, talisman cultivators from around the world had gathered in Huawei City.

This never happened in his previous life. Could it be that after his rebirth, pulling one thread affected the whole cloth? Had Wei Zhen Yu appeared early, causing the Book Saint to come seeking disciples?

In his early days, Wei Zhen Yu concealed his identity. At gatherings like tonight’s pavilion where people socialized and had fun, he certainly wouldn’t be among them.

Song Qian Ji looked at the sky—a crescent moon shining brightly.

A river of stars crossed half the night sky, each twinkling with shattered light, falling beyond the mountains.

Yet who knew which star was the young savior, and where he might be on this night?

Lost in thought, they approached Song’s courtyard, where the peach blossoms outside the vermilion gate had already fallen, covering the ground with faded red petals.

The balsam flowers and bean seedlings basked in the clear moonlight, swaying gently in the breeze.

Song Qian Ji’s heart leaped with joy, instantly casting all worldly concerns from his mind.