The rhythmic thud of footsteps echoed through the still air until the procession came to a halt.

"This is it, Brother Ji," one of the disciples announced, his voice tinged with reverence. Ji Wuye emerged slowly from the center of the group, crimson eyes drinking in the towering edifice before them.

Ji Wuye inclined his head humbly. "Thank you, Brothers, but...um...you needn't have escorted this one." He swept an appreciative gaze over the more than five eager young men who had faithfully accompanied him to the foot of the Kunlun Thousand Pavilion.

A chorus of warm laughter rang out. "Hahaha, it's a small matter, Brother Ji." They cupped their hands in a synchronous, respectful gesture before turning to depart, leaving Ji Wuye to face the pavilion alone.

As the sound of their footsteps faded away, Ji Wuye shifted his stance, pivoting to fully take in the splendid view. A nostalgic smile played across his lips as memories flooded back. "It has been a long time since I last came here."

The pavilion stood resplendent upon a three-zhang platform, the mammoth structure rising nearly 60 chi toward the heavens to almost graze the craggy cliff face that cradled it.

Golden twin towering dragons writhed atop the upswept eaves of the golden bamboo roof, their scales glinting like newly minted coins in the sunlight.

The pavilion's positioning deliberately aligned with the rising sun, its warm rays cloaking the edifice in a shimmering, ethereal mist that lent an aura of profound majesty.

Yet the most striking aspect emerged as Ji Wuye's gaze traveled down - the pavilion itself had been expertly constructed upon and integrating the very bones of the cliff behind it.

As he ascended the shallow stairs, the cavernous entrance yawned before him, flanked by two Outer Disciples standing immobile guard.

"It's him..."

"So he came after all..."

The disdainful whispers reached Ji Wuye's ears as the two young men openly appraised him with contemptuous stares.

He met their scrutiny levelly, crimson eyes coolly raking over them from head to toe while keeping his bearing composed. Inwardly, he thought, 'Assigning mere Outer Disciples instead of Official Disciples...it seems the sect is quite preoccupied.'

Striding forward, he cupped his hands in a conciliatory greeting. "Greetings, Fellow Martial Brothers."

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The Outer Disciples remained stoic and unmoving, pointedly ignoring his polite overture. Just from their frosty reactions, it seemed the eager disciples' earlier words about only a minority being aware of his deeds rang true.

Unfazed, Ji Wuye simply retrieved an emblem from his sleeve. "Please grant this Ji entry to the pavilion. Here is the proof token."

The sight of the token made the two guards flinch involuntarily before one replied curtly, tossing his head disdainfully to avoid meeting Ji Wuye's eyes. "Verified. Go inside and suit yourself."

With a slight dip of his head, Ji Wuye pushed open the towering gates with both hands and stepped across the threshold.

Another breathtaking sight opened up before him. Rather than a conventional bamboo roof, the pavilion's interior revealed itself to be an immense cave-like grotto.

A wide vertical crevice ran from the ceiling down to the floor, allowing shafts of natural light to spill into the space.

The high, vaulted stone walls formed a series of ascending tiers covered in gleaming marble, while a gurgling creek traced a winding path through the center of the open-air structure.

Stone staircases curved up to the second and third floors visible at a glance overhead.

Though dimly lit, the interior was amply illuminated by rows of torches lining the walls, their flickering flames casting the entire grotto in a warm, shifting glow.

Ascending the bottom tier of steps brought Ji Wuye to the expanse of the main floor - stacks upon stacks of bookshelves laden with tomes on martial arts lined the space. An earthy, book-tinged aroma permeated the air, rich and full.

'Let's explore the first floor first,' he decided, drinking in the magnificent scenery surrounding him.

The Kunlun Thousand Pavilion welcomed disciples of all ranks through its doors. Only the second floor remained restricted, its hallowed chambers reserved for Official Disciples and those of higher standing. Outer Disciples could freely roam and study on the first floor.

However, such was the rigorous and all-consuming nature of martial arts training that disciples typically focused intently on mastering one or perhaps three martial arts at a time.

The sight of only a handful browsing the endless shelves was quite ordinary.

To attempt learning a single martial art demanded one's full concentration and tireless effort over countless hours.

Spreading one's focus across multiple martial arts simultaneously overburdened the mind unless the one had already formed an Upper Dantian. For the average martial artist, such a feat proved simply too demanding.

'Even I am no exception,' Ji Wuye murmured inwardly as he approached one of the towering bookshelves lined with over twenty thick tomes.

Reverently, his fingers traced the gilded lettering on the weathered spines. 'The History of Kunlun...The First Emperor's History...'

As he perused the titles, realization dawned - these were not martial arts manuals as he had expected, but rather volumes containing a wealth of general knowledge and lore.

Confirming this by scrutinizing the label embedded on the bookshelf's edge, he mused, 'Interesting, though sadly I lack the time to fully indulge in such readings.'

Nevertheless, he carefully retrieved those particular volumes, adding them to the small stack already cradled in his arm - additional texts covering the fabled history of the Nine Sages and their profound impact to Jianghu.

Further exploration of the cavernous grotto revealed that most of the shelves indeed contained relatively basic knowledge - tomes on cultivating and gathering herbs, miscellaneous martial artist histories and biographies, and other academic subjects.

'Still rubbish as far as I recall, and not a bit changed,' Ji Wuye mused, a wry smile tugging at his lips as nostalgia washed over him. He had intended to proceed directly to the second floor, but an unexpected encounter brought him up short.

"Greetings, Elder," Ji Wuye intoned formally with a shallow bow, cupping his hands before him.

Yet his eyes narrowed sharply toward the figure before him - a man donning an embroidered white martial robe with dark yellow stripes typically reserved for Elders.

"Ah...greetings, Disciple," the supposed Elder replied with a distracted wave of his hand, already turning away as if urgently summoned elsewhere. He hurried off without a second glance.

Ji Wuye's gaze trailed the retreating figure, eyes narrowing further in suspicion. This was an individual he had never before encountered nor heard mention of within the sect.

Yet one fact became abundantly clear from this strange, furtive encounter: 'That's no Elder, but a mere Disciple disguised as one.'

All true Elders who had ascended to the vaunted 8th realm carried an unmistakable, otherworldly aura - an intangible presence that inspired a primal sort of reverence.

But this imposter lacked even a glimmer of that requisite demeanor and temperament, coming across as utterly ordinary.