"Huh?" Elder Qiao, who had been smirking smugly, suddenly froze as realization dawned on her face, noticing the mediator she had mentioned was conspicuously absent.

Elder Qiao's expression froze, her lips pressing into a thin line as her gaze sharpened, scrutinizing the gathered disciples with newfound intensity, as if searching for some missed detail.

"Master? What's wrong?" Li Rong shifted uneasily, feeling a knot form in her stomach as she witnessed her usually serene and impassive master glaring intensely with eyes squinted in an uncharacteristic expression of displeasure.

Then, Li Rong saw her master's face slacken, as if a thought had occurred to her. Elder Qiao closed her eyes briefly, inclining her head and lowering the long-stemmed pipe she obsessively puffed on regardless of circumstance. "Heh."

Her master suddenly barked out a harsh laugh, the unexpected sound making Li Rong flinch and swallow hard with trepidation. The other disciples shifted nervously, an unsettling prickling sensation raising the hairs on their arms as they sensed the unusual edge to Elder Qiao's demeanor.

"Well, that was fun," Elder Qiao said wryly, smiling in an almost predatory way as she brought the pipe back to her lips and drew a long drag. Turning on her heel, she strode away, ascending the stairs back towards the secluded observation area with measured steps.

"Um, Master? What about the mediator you mentioned?" Li Rong called after her, brow furrowed in confusion, only to feel her master's piercing stare drill into her from the corner of one narrowed eye.

Li Rong inwardly cringed but then heard her master artificially light and unconcerned words, "What mediator? Ah...I'm getting old. Ah yes, the mediator, well, he's gone, fufufu."

Li Rong opened her mouth to press further, her brow furrowed, but seemed to think better of questioning her master directly. However, her hazel eyes remained warily fixed on her master’s departing figure.

Unexpectedly, all the disciples heard Elder Qiao, now halfway up the ascending stairs, pause and half-turn, muttering with wry amusement, "It's a shame, I thought this would turn interesting."

"Master?" Li Rong called out hesitantly. "What did you intend? This sparring..." She trailed off, but then...

Even more unexpectedly, Song Jia, who had remained outwardly calm amidst the strange tension, cupped her hands and raised the question evenly, "Then Elder Qiao, may we continue this?"

"Go ahead," Elder Qiao called back casually as her figure disappeared from sight around the bend. Only Li Rong, schooling her features into a stern, solemn mask, turned to face the waiting Official Disciples.

"Do as my master wishes," Li Rong intoned flatly, though her hazel eyes betrayed newfound wariness as they swept over the crowd.

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...

Meanwhile, on a winding path skirting the edge of the sect grounds...

Tap...tap...tap...

The rhythmic sound of measured footsteps echoed, accompanied by the shimmering white of flowing robes reflected in dappled patterns on the worn cobblestones.

The footsteps slowed, finally halting as the descending rays of the late afternoon sun illuminated the face of the solitary figure.

He was Ji Wuye, crimson eyes glittering with an expression of inscrutable contemplation as he gazed upon the bubbling creek that originated from the snow-capped peak of Kunlun mountain.

Reaching the arched bridge, he came to a standstill, staring fixedly at the sparkling ribbon of water streaming over rocks before continuing its winding path through the canyon to the west.

"At least the outcome still follows the original timeline," he murmured to himself, a hint of satisfaction in his low tone.

At the same time, his lips quirked upwards in a knowing smirk as he recollected Elder Qiao's briefly discomposed countenance when noticing his absence.

Now bathed in the dazzling brilliance of the setting sun, rendered almost blinding as it reflected off the rippling waters, Ji Wuye felt the complicated whirl of his thoughts gradually quieting.

Allowing his feet to guide him, he turned and retraced his way back towards the secluded, abandoned courtyard.

...

Rooting stances, the training that connects the practitioner's body to the grounding energy of the earth itself, formed the final part of the 1st stage of The Unbreakable Vajra Form martial art, following the Breathing Control Exercises.

A practitioner was required to sink into and hold a certain low, widestance for an extended period. The aim was not merely to bolster physical endurance, but to render the body as immovable as the ancient trees, as firmly rooted as the ancient boulders - unshakable even against crashing waves or powerful gales.

This was the stance Ji Wuye had settled into now, balanced solidly, muscles taut yet breath steady and even.

But for Ji Wuye, holding the rooting stance was almost effortless, as the training was remarkably similar to one of the foundational martial arts he had long since mastered - the Earth Steps realm of the Cloudsoaring Steps.

He had thoroughly comprehended and transcended that base level long ago.

"It feels like everything seems...connected, somehow," Ji Wuye murmured introspectively, legs braced wide in the solid horse stance he had maintained unwavering for over thirty minutes now.

By this point, he didn't outwardly perceive any overt changes or sensations. And yet, after cycling through the full sequence of four training exercises over the course of the day, something indefinable seemed to be stirring just beneath the surface.

Not in his dantian, the body's vital core, but rather a subtle, nascent tremor thrumming through his very muscles and sinews, as if they vibrated with pent energy awaiting release.

Another full thirty minutes ticked by in disciplined stillness before the ephemeral sensation of inner trembling gradually faded away once more.

Ji Wuye felt instinctively that no further progress would be achieved by persisting, and smoothly transitioned out of the stance to allow his tensed muscles a moment's respite.

TAP-!

TAP-!

TAP-!

Then, without warning, the first fat raindrops began to fall, rapidly escalating into a heavy downpour as the last burning rays of the afternoon sun vanished completely behind steel-gray storm clouds.

The raucous croaking of frogs rose up in a deafening chorus, as if beckoning the intensifying deluge.

Raindrops pelted against the bamboo roof overhead with a steady roar. Ji Wuye hurriedly crossed to the gate and flung it open, lighting the paper lanterns hanging within to drive back the encroaching dusk.

After ensuring the courtyard entrance was illuminated, he sighed resignedly upon noting a steady trickle of water seeping in beneath the doorway to pool on the floor within.

Entering the simply-furnished living quarters, his keen eyes picked out myriad glistening droplets already beading along the underside of the bamboo ceiling slats.

"What a mess..."

As a martial arts, this mundane issue posed little challenge. He could simply reinforce the bamboo roof with a modicum of his qi to seal any cracks or gaps.

But…

"Only a fool would waste their qi on such a simple thing."

His rain-drenched outer robe clung heavily to his frame as he strode back outside into the downpour to ascertain the issue.

Climbing nimbly up onto the slick roof, he quickly identified the thin gaps between certain misaligned bamboo slats that were allowing water intrusion. Deftly adjusting and repositioning the errant pieces solved the problem.

However, just as he finished and prepared to descend, his attention was abruptly seized by a solitary figure standing motionless in the rain just outside the courtyard gate.

Thanks to his Quick Adaptation skill, the distorting veil of raindrops slowly receded from Ji Wuye's vision, the blurred form coalescing into the unmistakable silhouette of...

"Senior Sister Shen Bi?" he called out in surprise.