RING-!

The resonant clash of jian lingered in the crisp mountain air like the last notes of a temple bell, each echo dancing between the ancient peaks before dissolving into the wind's whispers.

His white martial robe with dark blue stripes - crafted from silk that had known a hundred careful washings in mountain streams - billowed with an otherworldly grace, each fold and ripple moving like brush strokes in a master's painting of waves.

The figure who materialized like mist condensing into form, deflecting the deadly attack aimed at Hao Hanying, was none other than his Senior Brother, Wu Gao.

"You clearly tried to injure my Junior Brother." Wu Gao's words cut through the tense silence like a blade through silk, each syllable sharp as freshly honed steel.

His eyes, narrowed to calculating slits, held the focused intensity of a hawk spotting its prey as he studied the spear-wielder's every minute movement.

The man who had been forced back - Wang Hei - recovered his balance with the fluid grace of a veteran warrior.

His dismissive gesture carried a practiced nonchalance that didn't quite mask the momentary uncertainty flickering across his weather-worn features, like shadows passing over stone.

His eyes met Wu Gao's accusatory stare.

"It seems there's been a misunderstanding, Fellow Martial Brother. I meant no harm to Brother Hao." Wang Hei's palms came together like two leaves meeting in a stream, his head bowing with the careful measure of one who knows the weight of martial courtesy.

The morning light danced along his spearhead like liquid fire, the weapon still held with the instinctive grip of one who has made steel an extension of his will.

But...

Before Wu Gao could respond, a cold, arrogant voice sliced through the mountain air like the first frost of winter, emanating from the elevated guests' area.

"It was your Junior Brother who started it." The words fell like ice shards, each syllable precise and cutting. The ornate steel fan in her hand moved with lethal grace, its polished surface catching sunlight like a mirror reflecting judgment.

All eyes were drawn upward, like moths to flame, toward the voice that commanded attention as naturally as the moon commands the tides.

She emerged into view with the fluid grace of a mountain stream discovering its path, positioning herself at the edge of the guest area where the morning light seemed to bow to her presence.

The temporary canopy behind her cast subtle shadows that only served to heighten her commanding presence. Her twenties sat upon her like a perfectly fitted crown, youth and wisdom intertwined like complementary verses in a poem.

Her raven-black hair cascaded down her back in a waterfall of midnight silk, each strand catching light like obsidian threads.

The silver hairpin nestled in her tresses sparkled with each subtle movement, like a star that had chosen to adorn her instead of the night sky.

The white robe she wore, its fabric fine enough to catch whispers of wind, bore intricate embroidery where fists and flowers danced together in an eternal pattern. The garment embraced her figure like mist clinging to a mountain's curves.

But it was her eyes - those startling blue pools as rare in Jianghu as jade in a river bed - that truly commanded attention. They held the cold clarity of mountain lakes in winter as they gazed down at Hao Hanying, who stood like a wilting reed behind Wu Gao's protective stance.

"Your Junior Brother's intentions are impure," she continued, her melodic voice carrying the weight of absolute conviction, like a judge delivering an irrefutable verdict. "He had the mind to kill from the start, driven mad by the humiliation of losing and his arrogance, unable to accept defeat."

Her words fell heavy as autumn frost upon Hao Hanying, whose shoulders curved inward like bamboo bending under snow, his head bowed as though her gaze itself carried physical weight.

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The shame radiating from his posture was as visible as heat waves rising from summer stones.

"Kekeke... As expected from a disciple of Kunlun! Brave and righteous, under the guidance of an Immortal!" The mocking jeer sliced through the tension like a rusted blade.

All eyes turned towards the muscular disciple who had been taunting Hao Hanying from the start. A cruel smirk twisted his lips as he continued his relentless barrage. "Oops! I mean, you've changed your ways, haven't you?" He threw back his head, laughter booming forth in harsh, grating peals that seemed to echo off the mountain faces.

This time, even Murong Yu, remained silent. His eyes, narrowed slightly as he observed Wu Gao's reaction, rather than attempt to silence the boorish heckler.

"Is that true?" Wu Gao's voice cut through the derisive laughter, a razor-edged demand for answers. His steely gaze shifted back to his Junior Brother after briefly recognizing the woman from afar. Hao Hanying had just regained his feet, hastily patting the clinging dust from his martial robe, his movements stiff and jerky.

"Y-yes, I'm sorry, Senior Brother..." Hao Hanying's voice emerged as a tremulous stammer, fractures of shame lacing each syllable. His fist clenched tightly at his side, knuckles straining against taut skin as his legs continued to tremble, the aftershocks of the near-fatal blow still coursing through his body.

He bit his lip, struggling to maintain his composure, but the ghostly echo of the spear whistling past his face, the memory of nearly losing an eye, haunted his mind's eye, leaving him visibly shaken.

"The Hero..."

"I had a feeling, but I didn't want to admit it..."

"So, it's true, the rumor about Kunlun being attacked and unable to defend itself."

Gasps of disbelieving surprise rippled through the assembled crowd like a gentle breeze stirring tall grass.

Hao Hanying's hushed words, laced with the weight of grim revelation, rang out like the solemn toll of a war drum amid the tense, breathless atmosphere. Many of the onlookers hailed from Tianmu, Tianji, and Kunlun's Qiuxiu Village - lands that had long existed under the benevolent protection of the Kunlun Sect.

Now, bearing witness to the unsteady and rattled state of an official Kunlun disciple, seeds of doubt began to germinate and unfurl within their hearts. Not mentioning these were folk who had survived and reached the fifth floor of the Tower of Gods.

This fact, only served to deepen their newfound suspicions regarding the waning power of a sect or school.

If not for the continued threat of rampaging beasts and unrestrained unorthodox martial artists prowling the lawless regions, they might have felt the presence of a sect or school was no longer a necessity in this rapidly changing world.

On the other hand, Wu Gao, noticed the unusual condition of his Junior with a narrowed eye. His brow furrowed briefly, creasing his noble features as concern flickered across his expression.

Then, closing his eyes, he drew a deep, steadying breath, as one who has witnessed and endured much turmoil. Without a word, he turned around, the tails of his robe swirling around.

"Please forgive my Junior Brother's foolishness, and accept Kunlun's apology," Wu Gao said.

He cupped his palms together in a gesture of utmost respect, particularly toward Wang Hei, who was still blinking in visible confusion at the unexpected turn of events.

"N-no, what are you saying, Fellow Martial Brother, I—" Wang Hei stammered, clearly flustered by Wu Gao's humble plea.

His brow furrowed as he glanced back and forth between the Wu Gao and the elegant young woman with striking blue eyes, whose icy countenance offered no hint of forgiveness.

"This is nothing but a small matter, Brothers. Let's set this aside and continue with the friendly sparring, shall we?" Murong Yu finally stepped in, a faint, diplomatic smile playing upon his lips.

With a subtle nod, he gestured toward both Wu Gao and the raven-haired beauty standing not far from him.

"Hmm... this is not my concern," she said dismissively, the words dripping with cold indifference.

With a slight toss of her head, sending her midnight tresses swaying, she turned and reentered the shaded canopy, lowering herself gracefully onto a cushioned seat. Her arms crossed over her chest, she silently observed the proceedings, her piercing blue eyes missing nothing.

They all understood the veiled meaning behind Murong Yu's words. He was not only offering Wu Gao a face-saving solution but also acknowledging the growing cloud of doubt and concern gathering in the gazes of the common people toward the martial factions.

"Thank you for your understanding, Young Master Murong," Wu Gao replied, bowing his head deferentially and cupping his hands before raising them in a respectful salute toward the guest area.

He then turned to Wang Hei, his expression one of sincere humility. "And please forgive my earlier accusation, Fellow Martial Brother."

"No, it's fine!" Wang Hei exclaimed, an awkward smile stretching across his features as he offered an enthusiastic thumbs-up. However, as his gaze settled upon Hao Hanying, still standing beside Wu Gao.

Following Wu Gao, Hao Hanying also cupped his hands and bowed his head in a display of remorse.

"Thank you for your guidance, Brother Wang. I am truly ashamed. Please forgive my reckless behavior," Hao Hanying said.

His shoulders slumped forward, chest caving inward as if bearing an immense weight, and he could not even meet Wang Hei's eyes, his own gaze downcast in a haze of shame and disquiet.

Seeing the shaken state of him, it was Wang Hei who now felt a pang of guilt tighten his chest. He rubbed his temple, deep wrinkles etching grooves into his forehead as an uncharacteristic frown creased his features.

"N-no, it's fine, Brother Hao. I'm at fault too, so we've both learned from each other," Wang Hei finally managed to say after a momentary pause, the words seeming to tumble forth with some difficulty.

A warm, reassuring smile stretched across his features as he hoped to lift Hao Hanying's spirits.

"Then, this round goes to Kunlun's defeat," Wu Gao declared. "I, Wu Gao, Official Disciple of Kunlun, will now represent Kunlun and greet all of you!"

As Hao Hanying stepped down from the large wooden platform, Wu Gao straightened his proud stance, cupping his calloused hands together as his words rang out loudly across the mountain hollow.

"That's Master Wu Gao! I've known him for years!" an elderly man's voice cracked with delight as he thrust a gnarled finger toward the imposing Kunlun disciple.

"Big Brother Wu!" several younger voices chimed in unison, their owners pushing eagerly through the tightly packed throng.

"The Tiger of Kunlun himself!" The cry erupted from the back rows, sending a rolling wave of murmurs and whispers cascading through the audience like spreading ripples across a still pond.

As expected, the crowd's mood had undergone a seismic shift. Where doubt and disinterest had once reigned, eyes now burned with fierce excitement.

However...

Among the guests, however, there was still one whose gaze harbored a glimmer of resentment toward the Kunlun Sect. As the crowd's raucous praises washed over him, his expression soured into a scowl of disdain, lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line.

"Then allow me to see just how vast your knowledge is, Fellow Martial Brother Wu!" he suddenly bellowed, the challenge slicing through the clamor like a razor-sharp blade. Without preamble, he leapt down from the elevated guest area, descending in a blur of motion.

He revealed himself as a tall, lean figure, standing an imposing six chi tall. His flowing raven hair, darker than the plumage of a raven's wing, was loosely secured in a simple bun at the nape of his neck, with long, wispy tresses framing his sharp, almost vulpine features like silken curtains caressing finely chiseled marble.