“That’s how it is. At the banquet celebrating the calligraphy and painting examination, I had a falling out with my branch family. With nowhere else to go in this vast world, I can only bring my sister to seek refuge with you,” Ji Chen slapped the railing of the Seven Wonders treasure ship excitedly. “It’s truly a desperate measure. I implore Brother Song to help those in peril and take in my sister and me!”
Song Qian Ji thought to himself, you’re smiling as if you’ve picked up a hundred thousand spirit stones. How does that look like a “desperate measure” at all?
When Ji Chen first appeared, the outer disciples, including Meng He Ze, were very tense.
After all, his flying vessel had an extravagant appearance, seemingly expensive, and when it broke through the night mist, the wind sound was piercing and its aura imposing.
But when Ji Chen stored his vessel and actively jumped onto their ship, this vigilance quickly dissipated.
—Behind him followed an adorable young girl with double buns, no more than thirteen or fourteen years old, well-behaved in appearance, with shallow dimples.
There were also two familiar faces: Xu Kanshan and Qiu Dacheng.
“It’s you.” Meng He Ze recognized the young girl, hesitantly saying, “You’re the one who helped distribute the colorful notes in the audience… Ji, Ji Xing?”
“That’s me! Fellow Daoist Meng, you remember me!” The double-bunned girl’s eyes brightened as she quickly approached him as if examining some curious object.
Meng He Ze retreated repeatedly in fright.
The young girl burst into laughter: “I didn’t expect you to be so shy off-stage. I thought you always carried flowers and colorful ribbons with you.”
Meng He Ze glanced at Song Qian Ji, seeking help.
Song Qian Ji thought, you chose this approach to gain votes, what can be done when you encounter enthusiastic fans?
He cleared his throat lightly: “And what about you two? What’s your story?”
Xu Kanshan smiled bitterly: “Senior Brother Song, our situation is even more complex. Some bastard scoundrel used us to bet one thousand spirit stones at a gambling den in Huawei City!”
“Not one hundred, not one thousand, a full ten thousand,” Qiu Dacheng added.
The outer disciples erupted in astonishment.
“Betting on what?” Song Qian Ji’s curiosity was also piqued.
“Betting on you!” Xu Kanshan said, “Betting on whom you would take as your master. All gamblers in Huawei City lost miserably. Only that kid bet that you wouldn’t choose anyone, letting us win everything from the house, ten thousand multiplied tenfold—one hundred thousand!”
Song Qian Ji thought this was quite a windfall, getting something for nothing.
Qiu Dacheng lamented: “We became famous overnight, but we’re now blacklisted from every gambling den in Huawei City, large and small. We can never gamble again. Not letting me gamble is worse than killing me.”
“What’s even more terrifying is that news reached the Huawei Sect, and the Enforcement Hall wanted to arrest us and take us to the Disciplinary Hall for a hearing. They asked why everyone else guessed wrong, and only we knew inside information. They claimed we colluded with you and were your left-behind spies. Add to that the night at the Star-Plucking Terrace, when you were surrounded by Zhao Zhi Shi and his men, we were the ones who tipped off the young lady…”
Xu Kanshan cursed, “We truly had no way to defend ourselves. That kid tossed the spirit stones and ran. We don’t know his name, can’t even remember what he looks like. Who would believe such a story?”
The matter was so absurd that Song Qian Ji found it laughable.
Who was this spendthrift who guessed his intentions, betting ten thousand spirit stones without hesitation, tossing them away just as easily, and causing so much trouble for others?
“Don’t they need a crime to arrest someone?” Zhou Xiaoyun asked.
The outer disciples were all filled with righteous indignation.
“Yes! The charge is ‘Song Collaboration.’ The newest crime freshly established by the Huawei Sect’s Disciplinary Hall,” Xu Kanshan smiled bitterly.
“Seeing the situation turn bad, we inquired about Senior Brother Song’s direction and quickly fled on our swords,” Qiu Dacheng laughed. “On the way, we met Fellow Daoist Ji traveling by flying vessel. Isn’t this perfect? Who in the world isn’t ‘collaborating with Song’ these days? Hahaha!”
Ji Chen mumbled: “I’m not a Huawei Sect disciple. I came openly and righteously. Whether or not he takes you two along is uncertain, but Brother Song will take me.”
Ji Chen believed in his true friendship with Song Qian Ji.
Although their friendship began with a misunderstanding.
However, the spirit of “participation is what matters in life” and “the harder you try, the worse you fail”—only Brother Song in this world understood him.
“Senior Brother Song, please take us along. Consider it a buy-one-get-one-free deal,” Qiu Dacheng pointed at Ji Chen and Ji Xing. “Buy these two big ones, get us two small ones free.”
Song Qian Ji thought this was incorrect—it was a forced sale.
“Do you know where I’m going?” he asked solemnly.
“Of course, to your fief! At such a young age, you’ve become the immortal official of an entire county. Your future is boundless!”
Song Qian Ji’s expression turned cold:
“My fief is called Qianqu County. Its water sources have dried up, rainfall is scarce—where are the thousand canals now? It’s a place more terrifying than a desert or dead sea. Barren mountains, treacherous waters, fierce local customs…”
His tone was gloomy as he exaggerated, making Qianqu County sound more horrifying than the eighteenth level of hell.
“Going there with me is no less than climbing a mountain of knives or diving into a sea of fire.”
So you should quickly take your sister elsewhere to play, and you two should find somewhere else to gamble.
After hearing this, Ji Chen displayed a resolute expression, ready to face death:
“Yes! Brother Song, you’re the first true friend I’ve made. Good brothers face the boiling oil together—no, fry me first!”
Meanwhile, Ji Xing’s cheeks flushed red as she cupped her face: “Wow, climbing a mountain of knives and diving into a sea of fire with Senior Brother Meng—how romantic!”
Xu Kanshan said: “Senior Brother Song has always been lucky. Following you, even going to hell, gives me confidence.”
Qiu Dacheng added: “Yes, in hell we could still roll dice with the King of Hell. That’s better than being thrown into Huawei’s dungeon!”
“Well said!” Meng He Ze praised. “Congratulations! You’ve passed Senior Brother Song’s test!”
Song Qian Ji was startled—what test did I give?
The outer disciples, seeing how firmly the four newcomers had stated their positions, all applauded in welcome.
Both sides spoke freely, treating each other as “their people,” just short of kneeling and becoming sworn brothers.
Amidst their laughter, there emerged a sense of fearless generosity and optimistic openness, a spirit of “starting anew.”
Only Song Qian Ji remained standing in place, dumbfounded.
According to his plan, he was going to cultivate the entire county alone.
Along the way, he kept accumulating more people.
Now he only hoped Qianqu County had enough wasteland for him to cultivate to his satisfaction.
The Seven Wonders treasure ship advanced at full speed.
Imperceptibly, the stars faded away and the night curtain retreated.
A rising sun leaped from the sea of clouds, ten thousand golden rays bursting forth, illuminating every young face on the ship.
…
Qianqu County was located in the northeastern part of the Western Continent.
Its territory was vast, shaped like a jade belt, stretching six thousand li from north to south.
To the south, it bordered the Great Desolate Marsh where flying creatures would immediately sink. To the north, it adjoined the Poisonous Barrier Forest where fierce beasts roamed.
In the west stood the impassable mountain range, leaving only the eastern border adjacent to Hongfu County. But the border was heavily guarded, and mortals couldn’t pass without an immortal official’s decree.
Deep in the night, Zhao Ren, the sixty-fourth immortal official of Qianqu County, stood on the highest cloud tower in the county, continuously patting the railing.
His face was contorted, his eyes bloodshot—not from pain, but from excitement.
I can finally leave this godforsaken place, he screamed inwardly.
For the entire past year, his cultivation had made no progress. When he wrote to Peak Master Zhao to complain, the Peak Master told him to endure and promised many resources.
Setting up the Heavenly Net Spirit-Absorbing Formation in Qianqu County years ago to help the clan ancestor breakthrough was a family secret.
Therefore, since then, the immortal officials of this place have always been trusted relatives appointed by Peak Master Zhao.
Few knew the current state of Qianqu County.
Zhao Ren had prepared himself to endure for another year, but unexpectedly, fortunes reversed. Now he only needed to complete one last task to receive Peak Master Zhao’s reward.
—Successfully transfer authority to the newly appointed immortal official.
This immortal official was no ordinary cultivator, but the doubly talented Song Qian Ji, who had written the Hero’s Invitation, left the Star-Plucking Formation and nearly became the direct disciple of a Sage.
He would break convention and become the youngest immortal official with the lowest cultivation level in the entire Western Continent, perhaps even in the entire cultivation world.
Zhao Ren forcibly suppressed his wild joy. He had to first stabilize the difficult-to-deal-with Song Qian Ji and prevent him from turning around and fleeing as soon as he arrived.
How does one evaluate the quality of a fief?
The landscape, water, soil, and cultural wealth were secondary. For cultivators, the most important aspect was, of course, the tributes from the mortal populace.
“Transmit my decree: tomorrow at noon, from every township and village, from each household, at least one person must come to the celestial temple in Tiancheng to kowtow before the divine statue.”
Behind him stood more than ten people, all respectful in demeanor, eyes lowered, responding in unison.
Zhao Ren thought for a moment and added: “To welcome the new immortal official, each village must offer ten livestock weighing over a hundred jin to the celestial temple.”
He must let Song Qian Ji see the sincerity of the common people and the prosperity of his territory.
Those people responded again, compliant and submissive, like a group of diligent, bowing old yellow oxen.
Zhao Ren was satisfied: “Thank you for your hard work, everyone. You may go now.”
Cultivation was like sailing against the current—not advancing meant retreating. Cultivators competed against every second; how could they waste time with mortals?
Although he was the immortal official, secular affairs were handled by the ministers of ceremonies, agriculture, and military. Each official position was backed by prominent families of Qianqu County, saving him from wasting time.
The “old yellow oxen” silently withdrew, heads bowed, backs bent, steps very carefully, not making a sound.
But as they descended from the high tower and exited the immortal official’s mansion.
With each step, their backs straightened a bit more, their footsteps grew heavier.
Until beautiful maidservants came forward with lanterns, and servants arrived with carriages. The main street was illuminated by countless lamps and crowded with more than ten luxurious carriages.
Attendants like clouds, golden lamps bright as day.
The lamplight illuminated their expensive, elegant attire and disdainful expressions. The humble “old yellow oxen” had completely transformed into imposing, corpulent “important figures” wielding significant power.
They had plenty of grievances about Zhao Ren’s orders.
The Minister of Ceremonies said: “How can we possibly be ready by noon tomorrow? Some villages are in remote locations, the journey is long…”
“Use flying artifacts to bring them in. While you’re at it, bring their offerings to the temple too!” A corpulent elder beckoned, “Minister of Agriculture, see what taxes haven’t been collected this year?”
An elderly man with graying hair hurriedly came forward with an ingratiating smile, but his face turned bitter as he replied:
“Unfortunately, we’ve collected everything possible this year—land tax, grass tax, market tax, head tax, birth tax…”
He rattled off forty types of taxes in one breath, without pausing, and finally concluded:
“The common people have already been fleeced three layers deep. There’s no more fat to scrape! It’s still too early for the autumn harvest, so the ‘new harvest tax’ cannot be collected no matter what.”
In Qianqu County territory, ordinary people had to pay a “lamp oil tax” just to light a single lamp after dark.
A silence fell. The night wind blew, the lights flickered, and everyone’s eyes turned vicious.
The Minister of the Military gritted his teeth: “The immortal official wants livestock, so there must be livestock. If the numbers aren’t enough, we’ll use human sacrifices to repay the debt!”