Song Qian Ji’s frown quickly relaxed.
Tomorrow he would leave the mountain and begin a brand-new life.
Even if Miao Yan came to Hua Wei’s main peak to plant a cart of explosives, it had nothing to do with him.
Cultivators valued the “four treasures”: wealth, companions, methods, and land. In his previous life, he had already possessed immense wealth, auspicious land, and a natal magical weapon—only a Dao companion was missing.
He had wanted to marry Miao Yan, and since she seemed willing, they had set a wedding date.
Only after death did he realize it had been his wishful thinking, a misunderstanding.
Not just with Miao Yan, but with all the grievances and debts of his previous life—it wasn’t that he had forgiven or forgotten them. He simply didn’t want to waste this life, didn’t care to calculate or become entangled again.
Miao Yan was to him now like vanished smoke over water, yesterday’s withered flowers.
Passing by each other on this Bridge of Flowing Waters, they would never meet again in this life.
From now on, she would play her zither, and he would tend to his fields.
His well water would not interfere with her immortal spring.
“Stop staring,” Song Qian Ji urged the two men in front of him. “Let’s go.”
The two messenger disciples came to their senses, let out a startled “Ah,” and then realized their rudeness toward the beauty. Red-faced and embarrassed, they lowered their heads awkwardly, hesitating.
Song Qian Ji had no choice but to step forward first.
“Stop right there!”
A crisp female command.
The two messenger disciples felt their hearts tremble. Looking up, they saw a woman in red emerge from behind Miao Yan.
The woman had a soft whip at her waist, arched eyebrows, and long, upturned eyes, emanating a fierce presence.
It turned out that Miao Yan’s tall figure, with her flowing skirt and arm ribbons, had completely hidden the smaller woman.
The former dressed in blue, the latter in red—one like a serene lake, the other like a burning red lotus.
The messenger disciples bowed respectfully: “Senior Sister Chen.”
After receiving a glare from her, they immediately corrected themselves: “Young Lady.”
Song Qian Ji suddenly realized why she looked familiar—she was Chen Hong Zhu, the only daughter of Sect Leader Immortal Xu Yun.
Currently, Hua Wei Sect had not yet shown signs of decline, and Chen Hong Zhu could have whatever she wanted.
More noble than a mortal princess, and with an even bigger temper.
She coldly examined Song Qian Ji: “Are you the Outer Sect disciple who just sent a note to my father?”
Song Qian Ji: “Yes, it’s me.”
Chen Hong Zhu gave a light snort: “I don’t know what nonsense you wrote, but you’ve ruined the Immortal Maiden’s entire night of zither playing, all for nothing.”
Though her words were reproachful, she glanced at Immortal Maiden Miao Yan with a smile of schadenfreude in her eyes.
Miao Yan’s expression remained unchanged: “Tomorrow night at this time, I will come to play again.”
With that, she departed gracefully.
The two messenger disciples looked completely bewildered, unable to understand their conversation.
Song Qian Ji knew perfectly well what was happening but could only pretend not to understand.
So Miao Yan had come to help regulate the old man Xu Yun’s internal energy.
It made sense—Miao Yan’s master, Immortal Maiden Wang Shu, had been Xu Yun’s close friend for many years, and Miao Yan herself had deep connections with Hua Wei Sect.
Miao Yan practiced the “Celestial Sound Technique.” The music could both aid in battles, disturb the mind, and also soothe turbulent spiritual energy, helping others regulate their internal circulation.
After Xu Yun failed to break through to the Spirit Transformation realm, his cultivation became unstable. Unwilling to let others know, he lived in seclusion, rarely meeting guests.
But with the Grand Conference approaching and various sects gathering at Hua Wei Sect, no matter how low-profile Xu Yun tried to be, he would need to make several appearances to avoid suspicion.
Wanting to use the Celestial Sound Technique to quickly regulate his energy, he had his daughter invite Miao Yan to Hua Wei Sect as a guest, under the pretext of missing her close friend.
Tonight, Song Qian Ji’s note suddenly disturbed Xu Yun’s mind, rendering Miao Yan’s Celestial Sound Technique ineffective.
After understanding the cause and effect, Song Qian Ji couldn’t help but look at Chen Hong Zhu with eyes that seemed to pity a fool.
If Miao Yan played for nothing, wasn’t your father the unfortunate one?
What are you so happy about?
Isn’t Miao Yan your cousin? What great enmity could exist between you two?
Chen Hong Zhu unexpectedly met his gaze and was taken aback.
When she walked with Miao Yan, people always only looked at Miao Yan. That’s why she hated walking alongside the most beautiful woman—she would either walk ahead or fall a few steps behind.
But this person was different. Chen Hong Zhu thought, he frowned at first sight of Miao Yan, yet looked at me with compassion…
Disciples of Hua Wei Sect always looked at her with fear and trepidation, while her senior brothers and father looked at her with indulgence and spoiling.
How absurd! When did I ever need an Outer Sect disciple’s pity?
A hint of rouge appeared on her cheeks, immediately followed by great anger: