Studying the tense face of his disciple, the WindBlade Emperor let out a weary sigh, the corners of his mouth turned downward as he slowly shook his head, his brow furrowed deeply. He refrained from replying.

This left Song Jia feeling utterly bewildered, her eyes darting between her Master and the others, biting her lower lip nervously.

However, observing her Master's grave reaction, his usually warm eyes now clouded with concern, along with the rigid stances of the others—the Grand Elder's hunched form taut with unspoken gravity and Ji Wuye's nonchalant—it dawned on Song Jia that her initial assumption was likely incorrect, bringing her a fleeting sense of relief amidst the oppressive tension.

'Then who?' The burning question surfaced in her mind as her gaze finally settled on Ji Wuye, his striking crimson eyes seeming to bore into her soul with their intense, unwavering stare.

“Thank you for your help, Grand Elder,” Ji Wuye suddenly spoke, cupping his hands in respect toward the Grand Elder. His words broke Song Jia’s train of thought.

"Save your courtesies, young man," the Grand Elder's reedy voice cut through the stifling silence like a whip, his deeply lined face contorting in a scowl as he regarded Ji Wuye sharply.

"We both know you would have survived regardless. I merely intervened to prevent you from turning this sacred ground into a complete wasteland." His gnarled, vein-riddled fingers gestured at the devastation surrounding them—craters scarring the earth, bamboo trees reduced to splintered stumps.

Ji Wuye's full lips curved into a faint, almost mocking smile as he casually brushed a few stray strands of white hair from his eyes. "Then I shall not impose upon your time any further," he replied smoothly, turning on his heel to leave.

"Not so fast," the Grand Elder barked, his words startling like a thunderclap and halting Ji Wuye mid-stride. With trembling arms, he pointed an accusatory finger toward the mutilated bodies of Kunlun disciples strewn across the decimated ground like broken, bloodied dolls.

"These demand an explanation. The Kunlun Sect will not let the deaths of its own go unanswered."

Ji Wuye paused, glancing over his shoulder almost lazily, those piercing crimson eyes glinting dangerously as they met the withering gaze of the hunched elder.

"With all due respect, Grand Elder," he said calmly, "you saw everything unfold with those sharp eyes of yours. What explanation could I possibly add to what you've already witnessed?"

An uneasy hush blanketed the shattered clearing as the Grand Elder fell silent, his rheumy eyes lingering on Ji Wuye's unreadable expression for a brief, weighted moment before shifting toward the WindBlade Emperor, whose jaw had tightened, a muscle twitching near his temple as he appeared ready to speak.

"Grand Elder, forgive my persistence, but..." The WindBlade Emperor's commanding tone rang out, addressing the Grand Elder formally but soon directing his piercing gaze toward Ji Wuye, his brow furrowing as those narrowed eyes locked onto the crimson orbs blazing with unknown secrets.

"You still have not answered my question, young man," he said.

With his arms crossed over his broad chest and his long raven locks whipping about in the swirling winds, the WindBlade Emperor fixed Ji Wuye with an intense, unwavering stare—as if prepared to engage in battle once more, even with the Grand Elder of Kunlun watching tensely nearby.

But Ji Wuye, instead of halting his casual departure, continued his unhurried strides forward, "The mountain you see is still the mountain, Emperor."

Without breaking his pace, he extended one arm gracefully, gesturing above toward the majestic, distant vista of the Kunlun peaks piercing the heavens, their snow-capped summits glimmering like jewels in the fading light. "At first, you see mountains as mountains. Then, you see mountains as not mountains. And finally..."

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Ji Wuye allowed his words to linger, letting the profound statement hang heavily in the crackling silence before repeating, "The mountain you see is still the mountain." With that, he resumed his leisurely steps as he made his way back toward the Lower Level.

However, this time it was the WindBlade Emperor's own disciple, Song Jia, who boldly stepped into Ji Wuye's path, planting herself directly in front of him with a determined stance, her delicate features a mask of conflicted emotions.

She hesitated, nervously pacing in small, agitated circles as she wrung her hands, shifting her weight back and forth as if struggling to find the right words. Her gaze flickered uncertainly to meet Ji Wuye's luminous crimson eyes as she finally blurted, "B-Brother Ji...c-can you teach me again?"

This plea carried an unspoken weight, for this time Song Jia had nothing tangible to offer him, beside another favor —and it was precisely because of this that her request seemed to stick in her throat, the words almost choking her.

Yet she remained oblivious to the thunderous shift in her Master's mood, his disapproving scowl darkening like a stormcloud as he regarded his foolish disciple with a deepening frown.

"Your Master stands right there," Ji Wuye responded evenly, his crimson gaze flickering briefly to meet the WindBlade Emperor's burning glare. "It would be more... appropriate to seek his guidance."

...

Back at the Lower Level of the Kunlun, unorthodox reinforcements had just arrived . The Kunlun disciples and Elders from various righteous factions, who had barely begun to catch their breath and tend to their wounded after the previous clash, were forced into battle stances once more as an ascending chaos erupted in the distance—the thunderous sounds of combat and clashing energies ripping through the air as some new conflict lead inexorably toward Kunlun's very entrance.

High above the chaotic fray, Ji Wuye standing motionless amidst the swaying fronds of a towering bamboo, his powerful lithe form balanced with effortless poise upon one of the uppermost boughs as he silently surveyed the pandemonium unfolding below.

From this lofty vantage point, he could make out the beleaguered disciples struggling valiantly to defend Kunlun's entrance, their defensive lines straining against the relentless onslaught.

The battle had erupted into full-blown bedlam, the fierce clashes and thunderous concussions of martial moves reverberating through the air, engulfing the vast Lower Level.

Then, Ji Wuye's blazing crimson pupils narrowed to piercing slits, his penetrating gaze locking onto one particular skirmish amid the chaos.

There, intermingling with the whirling maelstrom of martial artists, he spotted a woman whose appearance stood in stark contrast to the Kunlun disciples—she was clearly an outsider to their ranks.

Yet what drew Ji Wuye's rapt attention was not merely her presence, but her striking visage: lustrous white tresses the mirror of his own cascaded down her back, and her unique pupils burned with an ethereal blend of sapphire and amber hues.

That woman was none other than Ye Yujin, accompanied by her bodyguard Lin Fang and a trusted cadre of other martial artists. 'So that's where the Ye Clan has been residing,' he muttered inwardly, recalling how his courtyard had appeared deserted.

The Ye Clan, and regarding his trial... to the uninitiated, it would undoubtedly seem a cruel dereliction for the Ye family to remain aloof, failing to lift a finger in his defense. But Ji Wuye's lips curved in a faint, knowing smile.

'It was a logical decision, after all. Their influence and power are lacking, far inferior to that of the other guests in attendance.' Of course, it wasn't as though he had required their advocacy —he hadn't expected nor desired it. Thus, there was no disappointment where there had been no hope to begin with.

Then, dragging his crimson gaze away from the Ye Clan, Ji Wuye observed how events were unfolding exactly as they had in the previous timeline—or rather, as he recalled them. Back then, he had simply hidden away in the Outer Disciple dormitory, powerless to intervene.

‘As long as there are no anomalies…’ Ji Wuye’s thoughts trailed off. If nothing unexpected occurred, this event would pass, and he would succeed in preventing the death of his Senior Sister, Shen Bi.

It was then that Ji Wuye's razor-sharp crimson eyes, caught sight of something highly unusual amidst the chaos.

A cluster of disciples descended from the Inner Courtyard, moving with calculated stealth and purpose as they deliberately skirted the raging main battle, heading toward the Kunlun Thousand Pavilion.

It mirrored what Ji Wuye had once witnessed—Qin Bai and his traitorous henchmen executing a similar ploy. However, there was one subtle but significant difference: their attire.

These rogue individuals wore the distinctive white martial robes, accented with dark crimson stripes—the uniform of Inner Disciples.

'They’ve finally made their move, as expected...' Ji Wuye muttered to himself. 'The spies from the Evil Sect,' he continued inwardly.

This was yet another reason why, back then, he had hidden his true strength. It wasn’t just the Elders; there were also groups of spies from the Evil Sects. 'I lacked power back then, but now...' he reflected.

Now, he possessed power—overwhelming power. Yet, he made no overt move to deal with the treacherous disciples directly. Or rather, 'I already have a plan for them, and there’s also the Grand Elder.'

With the Grand Elder himself silently keeping vigilant watch over that sector, any rash action against the spies would be nigh impossible.

Even if the Grand Elder were to fail, the plan Ji Wuye had prepared would still unfold as intended.

But then...

RIIIIING!

The ominous tolling of an unseen temple bell reverberated through the air, echoing with an otherworldly resonance.

In that instant, Ji Wuye's luminous crimson pupils flared with an eerie incandescence as he sensed a colossal, tumultuous surge of densely condensed qi and energy roiling through the heavens like a gathering tsunami.

Almost immediately, the entire mountain began to tremble violently beneath his feet. The thrashing trees whipped wildly in the growing chaos, while the once-brilliant azure sky was rapidly swallowed by massive, billowing storm clouds.

The sun itself vanished behind the gathering darkness, casting the land into an oppressive, shadowed gloom.

The apocalyptic epicenter of this cataclysmic energy emanated from the direction where the auras of the Black Thunder Emperor and the Patriarch of Kunlun collided, crashing against each other like relentless waves. Their long-anticipated battle had clearly reached a world-shaking crescendo.

The shockwaves radiating outward from their titanic duel acted as a volatile signal for the unorthodox martial artists, prompting scores of them to seize the opportunity and rush headlong toward the Central Courtyard.

At the same time, the violent disturbance proved to be the perfect diversion. The traitorous spies hastily retreated from the Kunlun Thousand Pavilion, their objective already fulfilled as they slipped away under cover of the chaos.