The Celestial Official’s Mansion in Hongfu County was majestic and splendid, far surpassing that of Qianqu.
The Celestial Official hosted a banquet for his guests, with ceremonial music, dancing, fine wine, and delicacies.
“Look, Brother Song, even during continuous rainy days, the golden light on the temple roof in Hongfu never fades.”
The weather was clear at the moment. Looking through the ornate window, one could see the temple standing proudly, its golden light radiant under the blue sky and white clouds.
After saying this, Liu Hongshan looked quite pleased with himself as he observed the reactions of the three low-level cultivators.
The Hongfu temple’s incense offerings were flourishing—which celestial official wouldn’t envy and covet that? After waiting a moment, he realized they did not react at all.
Their expressions remained unchanged, without even a single exclamation of amazement.
Liu Hongshan maintained his smile on the surface, but his eyes gradually grew cold.
I said “Discuss the Dao,” and you dared to agree. I’m at the Great Perfection stage of the Golden Core, a future Yuan Ying cultivator—what Dao could I possibly discuss with a mere Qi Refining practitioner like you?
Could we ever be on the same level?
In his view, Song Qian Ji indeed had some special talents and abilities.
He knew chess, calligraphy, and painting, worthy of being called a “literary man and elegant scholar.” Thus, he was arrogant about his talents and dared to defy the sect.
Perhaps he had some cleverness, but these had no direct relationship with battle prowess or courage.
Although there were three thousand great Daos, the cultivation world universally acknowledged sword cultivators as having the strongest combat power.
Song Qian Ji was, after all, a sword cultivator from Huawei Sect, yet when walking in the mortal realm, he didn’t even dare to wear a precious sword.
The white-robed youth beside him, Meng He Ze, had at least won first place in the martial trials of the “Dengwen Elegant Assembly” through genuine skill, looking more like a sword cultivator than him.
Low cultivation level was simply low cultivation level. The reason the sect hadn’t moved against Song Qian Ji was only because his backing was too strong, and they couldn’t kill him outright.
They could either assassinate him secretly or outwit him.
What he was doing now was the latter.
Using this trap-laden banquet to thoroughly intimidate Song Qian Ji and bite off a piece of fatty meat from him.
Liu Hongshan coughed lightly, and the Director of Ceremonies stepped forward quickly, bowing as he poured wine.
The amber-colored wine flowed into a spiritual jade cup, creating ripples. Waves of rich fragrance filled the room, intoxicating even before one drank.
Understanding Liu’s intention, the Director of Ceremonies said: “Jade Liquid Amber Wine requires forty-three kinds of spiritual herbs and over a hundred years of brewing. This supreme quality wine produced by the Great Extension Sect is priceless. Throughout the entire Western Continent—”
Before he finished speaking, Liu Hongshan raised his cup and laughed heartily: “No need to be so formal! Today I’ve opened this bottle to commemorate my first meeting with Brother Song.”
Before Song Qian Ji could move, the white-robed youth beside him moved with the speed of a sword strike, swift as lightning, snatching the jade cup and draining it in one gulp.
Meng He Ze drank too hastily and choked, coughing repeatedly with a flushed face.
Senior Brother Song absolutely must not touch alcohol, not even fruit wine, not even fermented rice.
Song Qian Ji patted his back and smiled: “How old are you to be drinking like an adult?”
Meng He Ze mumbled: “I’m only a year younger than Senior Brother.”
Liu Hongshan smiled lightly, his eyes revealing mockery. Though a champion of martial trials, he was still of humble origin, a country bumpkin who grabbed precious spiritual wine without even knowing how to drink it.
Why didn’t Song Qian Ji scold him for embarrassing himself in public?
“Indeed, not bad,” Ji Chen suddenly said. He sipped a mouthful, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Liu Hongshan looked at him. Ji Chen, oblivious to this, shook his head and sighed:
“Pity it’s only two hundred years old. The Yellow Jade Cellar is somewhat lacking.”
“You can taste that?” Liu Hongshan stared in disbelief.
“Speaking of Jade Liquid Amber, the five-hundred-year Red Jade Cellar product has a more mellow aftertaste, and its fragrance isn’t so superficially gaudy. The Yellow Jade Cellar products are all leftover scraps that the Great Extension Sect uses to swindle money. Daoist Friend Liu, don’t let yourself be fleeced like a big fool anymore.”
He put down his cup and stopped drinking.
Liu Hongshan stared at him, thinking: Where am I supposed to find you a five-hundred-year-old wine? Give me back the half cup you’re not drinking!
“What does Brother Song think?” he asked, suppressing his anger.
Song Qian Ji candidly admitted: “I don’t drink alcohol, nor do I understand it. Daoist Friend Liu should enjoy it himself.”
After a moment of awkward silence, Liu Hongshan rallied his spirits and coughed lightly, signaling the Director of Ceremonies.
Behind the landscape screen, the zither music suddenly changed, transforming into an ensemble of zither, se, pipa, xiao, and short flute.
The Director of Ceremonies apologized with a smile: “This piece, called ‘Song of Wind and Snow Entering the Formation,’ is currently the most fashionable melody. Originally a solo for the seven-stringed zither, three days ago, Immortal Lady Miao Yan adapted it for ensemble. The score hasn’t yet spread widely and is difficult to acquire even for a thousand gold—”
Liu Hongshan smiled: “Even living in the mortal realm, one should enjoy immortal music and keep up with changes in the cultivation world. Otherwise, spending all day with mortals, one easily becomes tainted with mundane qi. What do you think, Brother Song?”
Many cultivation families and major sects hadn’t yet obtained this score, yet he, living in Hongfu County, had already gotten ahead of them.
Although this was partly due to Miao Yan’s special relationship with Huawei Sect, and partly due to his clan brother’s connections within the sect. Without these relationships, others couldn’t buy it no matter how much they paid.
Song Qian Ji choked.
What sins have I committed that, even after coming down the mountain, I still have to listen to music I composed myself?
While eating, he absent-mindedly agreed, then suddenly frowned: “Is Miao Yan scamming you for money?!”
“How can you be so disrespectful to the Immortal Lady!” Liu Hongshan’s expression changed.
“There’s another section after this. She gave you an incomplete score, right?” Song Qian Ji advised, “Didn’t you notice? The third part wasn’t finished, yet it started repeating the middle section of the first part.”
Liu Hongshan was shocked speechless, his mouth slightly open.
Song Qian Ji thought he was hurt from being cheated and consoled: “Daoist Friend Liu, what she did wasn’t right. I suggest you ask for a refund, at least half of the spirit stones.”
Liu Hongshan struggled to move his lips: “Brother Song is joking.”
When Miao Yan adapted this score, she deliberately chose the version that He Qingqing hadn’t finished playing, connecting the end with a previous chapter rather than the original piece’s remaining sections.
This was little known, and the Celestial Music Sect had instructed that it not be disclosed—how did Song Qian Ji know about it?!
The temple showcased power, the spiritual wine flaunted wealth, and the new score signified background and connections.
Three consecutive moves, each one countered.
The banquet atmosphere grew even more silent. Liu Hongshan couldn’t smile anymore.
Ji Chen cautiously transmitted: “Brother Song, did I say something wrong just now?”
Song Qian Ji transmitted back: “…Just eat more food.”
Meng He Ze held chopsticks in one hand, while his other hand hung below the table, always near the hilt of his sword.
After five rounds of dishes, with plates and cups in disarray, Song Qian Ji smiled: “Daoist Friend Liu has entertained us so warmly. As guests, we should repay the host’s hospitality.”
Liu Hongshan replied coldly: “Please do.”
“When I was playing chess with the old Chess Ghost, he taught me a unique skill from Purple Cloud Observatory. This is his closely guarded secret technique, which he instructed me not to reveal casually.”
Liu Hongshan was stunned, his eyes flashing with sharp light: “The Art of Reading Auras?!”
Purple Cloud Observatory had two supreme skills: one for formations and one for reading auras. Anyone could learn formations, but the art of reading auras was extremely rare.
Song Qian Ji shook his head: “My aura-reading technique is different from the ordinary one. It can not only see fortune, but also a person’s path, opportunities, and breakthrough triggers. Would Daoist Friend Liu like to try it?”
Liu Hongshan’s expression remained unchanged, but his eyes concealed vigilance and doubt.
The news that he was about to break through to Yuan Ying was no secret. If Song Qian Ji thought he could fool him with this, he had miscalculated.
Kid, I’ve eaten more salt than you’ve eaten fasting pills. I’ve seen as many spiritual scams and tricks as there are in the “Overseas Cultivator’s Anti-Fraud Handbook.”
“If you’re going to use the art of reading auras, with so many people around, it’s not convenient, right?” Liu Hongshan waved his hand and smiled, “Clear the hall!”
As his words fell, the banquet suddenly grew quiet. The ceremonial music and dancers filed out, and the Director of Ceremonies, Military Director, and others bowed and withdrew.
Song Qian Ji also smiled: “Go ahead.”
Meng He Ze and Ji Chen rose as instructed, but kept looking back.
The great doors closed tightly, cutting off all sound. Formation arrays activated, blocking all divine sense probing.
The two refused to follow the Director of Ceremonies to the side hall for rest, instead standing stiffly outside the hall, their expressions tense.
Ji Chen cautiously transmitted: “Does Brother Song understand the art of reading auras?”
After a moment of hesitation, Meng He Ze carefully considered his memory and said: “He perhaps… knows a little?”
Song Qian Ji was rather disdainful of matters concerning fortune, so he certainly didn’t understand aura reading. But he understood Liu Hongshan.
They were “old friends” from his previous life. He had been a small outer disciple of Huawei Sect who “killed and escaped,” while the other was the clan brother of Disciplinary Hall Grand Elder Liu Hongfeng, who had predictably taken on the task of hunting him down.
Song Qian Ji escaped multiple times until he successfully killed his pursuer, and even then, the other did not break through to Yuan Ying.
Of course, in this life, Song Qian Ji didn’t want to kill him a second time.
As the sun’s shadow moved westward, the golden light of the distant temple changed from bright to dim.
Twilight enveloped the land, stretching the two human silhouettes and casting them onto the smooth blue bricks.
Meng He Ze reached for his sword three times. Inside the hall was a Yuan Ying powerhouse with ill intentions; Senior Brother Song needed his protection.
Ji Chen stopped him three times: “Don’t ruin Brother Song’s grand plan.”
Meng He Ze paced back and forth like an anxious lion.
Just beyond the door, Song Qian Ji was smiling amicably:
“Daoist Friend Liu, have you been experiencing wandering thoughts during meditation lately, unable to gather qi and focus your spirit? Is your natal spiritual tool of the water element among the five elements, recently operating somewhat sluggishly? Are you cultivating a secret Taiji Yin-Yang method to assist your breakthrough, yet finding it not entirely compatible with your spiritual energy? Did you recently acquire a gold-attribute flying sword and encounter some troubles while refining it?”
He spoke slowly, with a storytelling cadence.
Liu Hongshan’s expression changed from cold mockery to shock, then to anxiety, his previous disdain completely vanishing.
He grasped Song Qian Ji’s hand, almost in tears:
“Brother Song is divine! Brother Song, please help me!”