"Master Ji," under the brilliant golden rays of the morning sun at Ruoshui Camp, amidst the lively bustle of activities, a group of people stood before Ji Wuye. He was calmly seated cross-legged, his posture serene and unruffled like a mountain amidst a gentle breeze.

  His crimson pupils, piercing yet tranquil, scanned the assembled group silently.

  "I would like to express my heartfelt gratitude on behalf of us all. A most sincere thanks to you, Master Ji, for solving the troubles that have pgued our camp," said one of them, a grizzled man who appeared to be the leader.

  His voice boomed with conviction, rich and resonant, instantly capturing the attention of others milling about the camp. Immediately, the rest of the camp's residents—whether they had been wandering the dusty paths or engrossed in their daily tasks—paused and followed suit.

  With solemn reverence, they cupped their hands in unison, a wave of gratitude sweeping through the camp.

  "Thank you, hero of Kunlun! Heaven bless upon you!" they called out fervently, bowing their heads in a gesture of profound respect.

  Some peered out from the doorways of weathered buildings; others halted mid-stride on the winding trails, clutching parcels or leading mules den with goods. Whether dressed in the simple garb of martial artists or the vibrant hues of traveling merchants, none were exempt from this shared expression of gratitude.

  Meanwhile, Ji Wuye, seated regally atop a stack of wooden crates before the modest tent that had been his home for over a week, smiled faintly.

  A gentle breeze ruffled the loose strands of his hair as he gracefully rose to his feet, the folds of his robe shifting with the fluidity of rippling water. With a warm gaze that belied his unassuming demeanor, he bowed slightly, cupping his hands toward the crowd in a humble return of their regard.

  "It is nothing, truly. It was merely my duty," he said, words easily spread across the camp. "Please, everyone, raise your heads. There is no need for such formalities."

  In just a week's time, Ji Wuye had managed to rid Ruoshui Camp of the relentless, otherworldly creatures that had terrorized its people, bringing an end to their constant state of fear and dread.

  He remembered vividly the haunted, despairing looks in their eyes and the exhaustion etched deeply into their faces when he had first arrived—they had seemed more akin to walking corpses than living souls.

  Now, as he signaled for them to resume their activities, they nodded gratefully, their expressions alight with hope and relief, before dispersing amidst a symphony of renewed chatter and ughter.

  However, the group that had originally approached and initiated the conversation remained in pce, lingering as if they had more to convey.

  "May we speak with you a bit longer, Master Ji?" The question came from the same man—the chief of the camp, Bai Zhenwu.

  A tall, broad-shouldered figure in his te forties. Graying temples framed a face etched by the years, marked by faint scars that hinted at battles long past. His sharp, hawk-like eyes swept over Ji Wuye as he spoke, appraising yet respectful.

  Dressed in a dark blue martial robe adorned with intricate silver embroidery. A pair of heavy gauntlets encased his powerful hands. Despite his formidable presence, there was a weariness to his stance, a subtle slump of the shoulders that betrayed the strain of constant vigince.

  "Of course, Mr. Bai. Feel free," Ji Wuye replied modestly.

  ...

  The interior of Ji Wuye's tent was spare and slightly cramped, containing only the bare essentials—three simple chairs, a single table, and one small bed, leaving little room for extended discussions. Nonetheless, Bai Zhenwu appeared unconcerned by the simplicity, immediately ciming a seat.

  "It truly is a gift and a blessing to have someone like Master Ji here at our camp!" he decred, his deep voice carrying an undercurrent of profound appreciation. The words seemed to lift an invisible weight from his shoulders, if only for a moment.

  "Uncle Bai! You're being rude. Look at Master Ji; he hasn't even offered you a seat yet!" came a sharp reprimand from a striking young woman who had followed them into the tent.

  She was a vision of striking beauty. Long, flowing dark tresses cascaded down her back, usually bound in a high ponytail that swayed with her every movement.

  Her piercing eyes, framed by thick shes, reflected her bold and stern nature, missing nothing—yet when they rested upon Ji Wuye's handsome face, there was an undeniable shift, a warmth that seemed reserved only for him.

  She made no attempt to hide this subtle softening, nor did she overtly dispy it, creating an intriguing bance of strength and tenderness in her expression.

  Cd in a crimson martial robe with intricate gold accents. At her waist hung a pair of exquisitely crafted curved sabers, their hilts gleaming like polished jade, as refined as the woman who wielded them.

  "Ah! Right, right. Master Ji probably doesn't mind, huh?" Bai Zhenwu chuckled, his deep voice taking on a teasing lilt as his eyes darted between the young woman and Ji Wuye, a knowing glint of amusement sparkling in their depths. The bold insinuation earned him a sharp gre from the woman.

  Ji Wuye, simply smiled and nodded, settling into his seat with fluid grace. "It's fine. After all, this pce originally belongs to you. I'm only borrowing it for a brief time," he replied calmly, seemingly unperturbed by the pyful banter.

  The young woman who had reprimanded Bai Zhenwu earlier returned, bancing a tray den with ceramic cups of steaming yak butter tea and bowls of plump, fragrant steamed dumplings. Bai Zhenwu observed with barely concealed satisfaction as she appeared to take extra care when handling Ji Wuye's portion, pcing it delicately on the table before him.

  "Here's something to warm you up before..." Her voice trailed off, ced with a strain of barely contained emotion as she gnced at Ji Wuye tensely, her full lips pressing into a thin line. There was an unmistakable note of regret in her words, a hint of lingering unease. "...the st time we see each other again."

  "Thank you, Sister Lan," Ji Wuye said, his faint smile carrying a warmth that belied the simple words.

  "Master Ji... those ridiculous rumors about you—people calling you a demon—it's so unfair, so absurd," Lan Yexin said, evident frustration tinging her melodious voice. She shook her head vehemently, lustrous tresses swaying with the motion as her expression tightened, brows furrowing in a dispy of protective anger.

  Her slender hand subconsciously gripped the delicate teacup with undue force, knuckles bnching as porcein strained against her emotional investment in defending his reputation.

  Ji Wuye didn't immediately respond. Instead, he brought the steaming cup to his lips, taking a contemptive sip and allowing the silence to linger, heavy with unspoken depths.

  Finally, he spoke...

  "It's actually true, perhaps..." His words trailed off as his gaze shifted, unfocusing as it settled upon the still surface of the tea, now rippling faintly with each measured breath.

  The memory of his Senior Sister spped him. He recalled their conspicuous absence when he departed, their lingering final gnces den with unvoiced sentiment.

  But most vividly, he saw his Senior Sister Shen Bi 's gaze, which cutting him deeply in a way he cared not to admit.

  Sensing the sudden gloom that had descended upon their small gathering, Bai Zhenwu quickly stepped in. "Well, then! Enough of all that gloom—did you know that tonight is our st night before the Tower activates again?"

  "The Tower..." Lan Yexin muttered under her breath, her lovely features darkening slightly at the mention.

  A faint vein pulsed just beneath the delicate skin of her forehead, betraying a fleeting irritation or unease that the mere utterance of those two words seemed to provoke.

  "It's been almost three months, hasn't it?" Ji Wuye remarked calmly, his rich voice level. Both Bai Zhenwu and Lan Yexin nodded in solemn acknowledgment, their expressions taut.

  With that, the conversation stilled as they began to eat, an unspoken pall descending as the topic of the Tower lingered unsaid between them.

  Despite the weighted silence, it was clear from the tightness around their eyes, the tension in their jaws, that the Tower conjured memories best left undisturbed for these two people. For Ji Wuye, however, the reaction was markedly different.

  'Why do I feel this...anticipation?' he wondered silently, striking eyes drifting to study the steaming contents of his cup. Perhaps it was because he was far stronger now, and wanted to see if the changes—rang true.

  "Master Ji, perhaps we could cross the river in the same boat?" Bai Zhenwu asked suddenly, his deep voice ringing with sincerity yet underscored by an intense fervor.

  His sharp eyes gleamed brightly, like one trying to peer straight through autumn waters to the secrets lurking beneath. "That way, we could watch out for each other and lend a helping hand when needed."

  "Having allies like you would be like adding flowers to embroidery!" Lan Yexin chimed in, her previously furrowed brow finally smoothing into a light, hopeful smile.

  The warmth in her tone was unmistakable, a gentle persuasion ced with something more tender—as if she harbored a secret, blossoming affection barely constrained behind the careful mask of propriety.

  She didn't seem to notice the subtle shift in her demeanor, the way her lush shes swept downward in a coy flutter, the soft giggle that escaped her full lips—for a fleeting moment, she was every bit the young girl harboring the first tender inklings of infatuation. It was almost as if Ji Wuye's assent was a foregone conclusion in her mind.

  Realizing her slip with a start, she quickly attempted to school her features back into their customary sternness, though the effort faltered rather charmingly.

  On the other hand. Bai Zhenwu hid a knowing smile behind the rim of his teacup, eyes crinkling with barely contained mirth as he observed the usually stern Lan Yexin's unguarded dispy of tender emotions.

  He had long noticed the subtle shifts in her demeanor whenever Ji Wuye was present—how the edges of her sharp tongue seemed to soften fractionally, how her striking eyes would follow his every movement when she thought no one was watching.

  Meanwhile, observing their candid reactions, Ji Wuye shook his head lightly, features composed into an inscrutable mask as he spoke. "Fated to meet but not destined to be together." He didn't eborate further; there was no need. They likely understood the yered meaning perfectly.

  The Dungeons were not just a curse pguing the Ruoshui Camp—their dark tendrils extended across the entirety of the Jianghu world.

  His words lingered heavily in the weighted silence, and for a brief moment, Lan Yexin's hopeful smile faltered, her sunny countenance clouding over like a sudden squall obscuring the radiant moon.

  But true to her indomitable character, she quickly lifted her chin in defiance, crimson lips pressing into a mulish line as if daring the very threads of fate itself to dare oppose her resolve.

  "Fate isn't always set in stone, Master Ji," she said boldly, her melodious voice remarkably steady despite the faint tremor betraying the tumult of emotions roiling beneath her poised exterior. "Sometimes it just needs a little... persuasion."

  Ji Wuye met her gaze. Her feelings were unmistakable, id bare for anyone to notice. Yet, even so, he could only respond with quiet but firm finality, “I’m sorry, Sister Lan.”

  ...

  Later, as the warm light of te morning filtered through the tent's canvas walls, Ji Wuye sat alone, features inscrutable as his mind inevitably circled back to the conversations before.

  'The Tower, huh...' he mused, crimson gaze darkening slightly as turmoil churned unseen beneath his pcid exterior. With the strength he had now, he was curious. 'What kind of inheritance might I receive?'

  His lips curved into a faint, self-deprecating smile as he considered the possibility that he might gain nothing at all—or that whatever he received might not measure up to his current power. The thought amused him enough to elicit a soft chuckle.

  ‘Well, let’s see… shall we check my stats?’