“Alright, alright, it’s not your problem, it’s mine. It’s because I don’t want to fight but want to farm, that things have turned out this way.”

After Song Qian Ji sincerely admitted his mistake, the Pure Bottle trembled slightly. The rain stopped and the sky cleared, with a seven-colored rainbow bridge stretching across the wheat field, making the waves of wheat shine even brighter.

Treasures originally had no consciousness, but after recognizing their master, they resided in the cultivator’s Violet Palace, day and night being infused with the cultivator’s soul.

The higher a cultivator’s cultivation, the stronger their soul, and the higher the consciousness of their treasures. Swords had sword spirits, vessels had vessel spirits, and Song Qian Ji did not doubt that sooner or later, he would nurture a spring spirit that would show him no respect.

Truly worthy of being one of the greatest Heaven and Earth treasures, with a temper greater than other magical items.

The endless wheat field was captivating, but Song Qian Ji couldn’t stay long.

The assassination was out in the open, and the tribulation clouds were magnificent, impossible to conceal. Most likely at this moment, the entire cultivation world knew that he had been attacked in Thousand Canals, and also knew that he had broken through two tribulations, directly advancing to the Nascent Soul realm.

The situation within Thousand Canals was controllable, but outside Thousand Canals, those who considered this bad news might hate him even more and wish for his death.

Those who considered this good news might want him to cultivate more, to save the world.

Would the peaceful life of farming at Song Academy, guarding Thousand Canals, soon become an unattainable dream?

No, Song Qian Ji stood in the wheat field, raising his arms and sleeves, refusing to accept this fate!

…

On a tight north-wind winter night, Thousand Canals County was sleepless.

Moonlight couldn’t penetrate the thick clouds, while the Immortal Official’s Mansion was brightly lit.

Song Qian Ji lay peacefully on the bed, his face ruddy in the candlelight, his breathing even, as if asleep.

Wei Ping raised his hand, shaking his head slightly: “His bones and meridians are unharmed. After absorbing the lightning tribulation, his body is full of spiritual energy, circulating smoothly. But he has already formed his Nascent Soul, and my consciousness cannot probe into his Violet Palace. We can only continue to wait for him to naturally awaken. Let’s light a soul-returning incense for peace of mind.”

Ji Chen hurriedly lit the incense: “Should I invite a master from the Red Leaf Temple to perform rituals? Or perhaps an immortal lady from the Celestial Sound Gate to play the zither? Would that help?”

“It won’t help.” Wei Ping’s expression was solemn: “You are a formation master, in charge of all formations in Thousand Canals. You cannot leave easily at this time.”

Ji Chen nodded: “Understood.”

After Song Qian Ji fainted following his tribulation, Wei Ping immediately sealed the news, ordering all city gates closed, and forbidding anyone from entering or leaving Thousand Canals.

In this leaderless time, he ordered Ji Xing to lead people to comfort and disperse the crowds, arranged for Xu Kan Shan, Qiu Da Cheng, and others to check for hidden dangers and suspicious individuals, and arranged for Zhou Xiao Yun to guard the severely injured assassin…

Like a true steward giving orders, he remained calm in crisis, steady and reliable, thoughtful and thorough, winning everyone’s trust.

Fearing they might disturb Song Qian Ji, the two lowered the gauze curtain and tacitly retreated to the outer room.

“Brother Wei, after this ordeal, we can truly be considered brothers who have shared hardships and faced enemies together. I never thought that besides Brother Song and Brother Meng, I would make another good brother. When Brother Song recovers and Brother Meng returns, let’s drink good wine and eat roasted meat together!”

Wei Ping’s lips twitched, revealing a bitter smile: “Sure.”

Ji Chen felt something was wrong with Wei Ping and tried to liven the atmosphere:

“I used to hear Brother Meng tell the story of how Brother Song jumped off a cliff, willing to cut off his arm to save him. I always thought he was exaggerating. How could anyone unhesitatingly, without thinking, sacrifice themselves for others? Surely when Brother Song cut off his arm, he must have been calm and rational, calculating that they could escape, before making such a decision.”

“But today I experienced a crisis, my mind blank, my limbs not obeying my commands… It turns out no one can weigh pros and cons at a critical moment; how one reacts depends entirely on instinct.”

Wei Ping suddenly interrupted: “Why did he have to save me?!”

His voice was hoarse and tragic. Ji Chen turned his head, and by the moonlight through the window, saw his bloodshot eyes, startled: “You…”

Wei Ping looked toward the gauze curtain, laughing bitterly: “Why go to such lengths? Why save me.”

Ji Chen’s expression changed; the other had seemed normal during the day, but now was clearly not right.

“Given Brother Song’s character, no matter which of us was by his side, he would sacrifice himself to save us. If you blame yourself and become depressed because of this, you would be letting him down…” He gripped Wei Ping’s arm, saying seriously: “This is not your fault. Don’t overthink it, or you might enter a mental deviation!”

Wei Ping screamed inwardly, how is it not my fault?

Why did I come to kill him?

Wei Ping had been busy with arrangements throughout the day, not daring to let his mind wander.

As soon as he relaxed, he saw flashes of that sword piercing through Song Qian Ji’s body.

Though the bloodstains had been wiped away, it was as if they were still splattered on his face.

“Where are you going?” Ji Chen asked.

“I’m going next door to talk with the assassin.” Wei Ping turned his head, “Call me when Master Song wakes up.”

The assassin was placed next door, in Ji Chen’s confinement formation.

“Manager Wei, you’ve come just in time!” Zhou Xiao Yun said angrily, “Brother Song even said to treat their wounds but look at this person, he’s almost dead and still refuses to take the medicine!”

Lin Fei Yuan’s face was deathly pale, collapsed in a pool of blood, his head hanging on his chest, his breath as thin as a thread.

Wei Ping took the medicine bowl, saying gently: “I’ll handle it. Sister, you’re tired too, go rest.”

Zhou Xiao Yun hesitated.

“Sister, are you worried?” Wei Ping asked softly.

Zhou Xiao Yun examined his expression. Under the cold moonlight, the young man’s ordinary face was as always, yet somehow chilling.

“Your medical skills are better than mine, so of course I trust you. But Brother Song said this person cannot die. If you kill him, how will you explain to Brother Song?”

Wei Ping assured her: “I won’t kill him.”

The dying Lin Fei Yuan suddenly raised his head and laughed loudly, coughing up mouthfuls of fresh blood.

Only two people remained in the room. The lamp flame crackled, casting shadows on the white wall that were distorted and stretched like two beasts fighting.

“Let’s make a deal,” Wei Ping said.