The Meng Mountain, situated at the extreme east, was rumored to touch the heavens. Looking up from its base, the mist shrouded the mid-slopes, making it truly seem like a passage to the sky—a sight of overwhelming grandeur.

Li Muzhan, clad in a simple blue gown, arrived at the foot of Meng Mountain just as evening fell. The setting sun bathed half the mountain in gold, draping him in a mantle of reflected glory.

After surveying it, he was quite pleased with the mountain's sheer height; this was precisely the kind of place where he could best intercept the heavenly lightning—the perfect nexus for celestial power.

This journey had taken him fifteen days; he had traversed dozens of towering peaks, none of which satisfied him, leading him to depart immediately. He had finally arrived at Meng Mountain.

His spirit grew ever stronger, sharpening his perception of the world's lingqi (spiritual energy). The more vigorous the lingqi, the more easily the heavenly thunder would converge and strike.

Some of those previous peaks were even higher than Meng Mountain, yet they lacked its vital energy. The moment he stepped onto Meng Mountain, the air seemed to grow moist, causing every pore on his body to open greedily.

His sensory perception of his own body was exceptionally refined, deepening this experience. All his pores instantly dilated, greedily drawing in the surrounding lingqi.

This Meng Mountain truly held something strange. Its spiritual energy was more than ten times that of ordinary places. Accustomed as he was to the thin lingqi of this world, arriving here was momentarily jarring.

He walked uphill, hands clasped behind his back, letting out a long, slow sigh. This feeling was wonderfully familiar, as if he had suddenly returned to his previous world.

His steps slowed deliberately, savoring the long-absent sensation. His yearning to return intensified, lending his pace a slow but unwavering resolve.

He ascended step by step without pause, reaching the mid-slope as the twilight deepened. The mist grew impossibly thick here; standing midway, he could no longer see the terrain below.

Li Muzhan continued upward. The path above grew increasingly rugged and uneven, seeming untouched by human passage—without qinggong (lightness skill), movement here would be impossible.

He soon reached the summit, where a single, luminous moon hung obliquely in the sky, slowly tracing its path and casting a gentle, silvery radiance that enveloped him in an argent cloak.

Li Muzhan gazed upward at the star-strewn expanse. The mist had not obscured the sky’s clarity. He shook his head; there would be no sign of heavenly thunder tonight. Even at this altitude, encountering lightning required cooperative weather.

He glanced around at the neighboring peaks. The moonlight flowed like water. Five other mountains precisely encircled Meng Mountain, creating an arrangement reminiscent of stars orbiting the moon.

Even from this vantage point, he could discern that the five surrounding peaks were lower. Yet, their formation—five distinct pinnacles spaced almost identically—was a testament to the marvelous artistry of creation.

He sat cross-legged atop a large, flat stone on the summit. The rectangular stone resembled a natural couch. Li Muzhan leaned back, his face turned toward the sky, slowly merging his consciousness with the starfield, his mind utterly still... After an indeterminate time, he awoke refreshed. Turning his head, he saw a woman in white some distance away, gracefully wielding a sword, her movements captivatingly fluid.

Li Muzhan started, flipping over to sit upright.

The woman in white halted her swordplay and turned to face him. She was a peerlessly beautiful maiden, her expression cold and composed, her eyes clear as still water.

"Who are you?" the white-clad maiden asked coldly.

Li Muzhan cupped his hands in greeting and smiled. "He Zudao. I wonder what divine lineage you hail from, Miss?"

"Yang Ruoruo of the Jade Peak Sect!" the white-clad maiden declared.

Li Muzhan smiled. "Ah, Miss Yang from the Jade Peak Sect! ...I have long admired the great name of the Jade Peak Sect. I never imagined you would be one of its disciples!"

"You've truly heard of our Jade Peak Sect?!" Yang Ruoruo furrowed her long, delicate brows.

Li Muzhan nodded and smiled. "In the East, Jade Peak; in the West, Ten Thousand Saints; in the North, Dragon Mountain; in the South, Shoreline Sea! The Jade Peak Sect is the most mysterious, and I have held it in high regard for ages. To meet one here is unexpected!"

"It's merely empty fame. I am surprised you actually know of us." Yang Ruoruo nodded lightly. "Since you know of the Jade Peak Sect, you must be a disciple of another prominent lineage?"

Li Muzhan smiled. "I am He Zudao, a disciple of the Sword Sect of the Ten Thousand Saints."

"The Sword Sect..." Yang Ruoruo's face had initially turned cold upon hearing 'Ten Thousand Saints,' but her brow smoothed as soon as she heard 'Sword Sect.' "Are you truly from the Sword Sect?"

Li Muzhan smiled. "Naturally!"

"Then that is excellent!" Yang Ruoruo’s bright eyes sparkled. She drew her sword with a flash and pointed it at him. "Our Jade Peak Sect has an old grievance with your Sword Sect. Let us settle it today!"

Li Muzhan quickly waved his hands, laughing. "What grievance is that? I've never heard of it."

"Our Jade Peak Sect cultivates the sword, and so does your Sword Sect. We must see whose swordsmanship is superior!" Yang Ruoruo held her longsword steady against him.

Li Muzhan sighed. "That seems unnecessary. I am quite old; I have no wish to bully the young."

"You are barely ten years older than I?" Yang Ruoruo said coldly. "Come, I wish to witness the famed Sword Sect techniques. My senior sisters have praised your Sword Sect to the heavens!"

Li Muzhan sighed again, accepting his fate. "Very well then, I shall only seek a few pointers!"

He could see the young woman was rather stubborn; refusing her was out of the question. However, her cultivation seemed considerable; she was clearly a prodigious talent, a master from a renowned sect.

The Jade Peak Sect's fame was immense, yet it remained shrouded in mystery, rarely seen. It was even more enigmatic than the Ten Thousand Saints Sect; few in the martial world knew much about them.

It was true that there was talk of East Jade Peak, West Ten Thousand Saints, North Dragon Mountain, and South Shoreline Pavilion. However, the Dragon Mountain Sect and the Shoreline Pavilion were comparable in strength, lagging slightly behind the Ten Thousand Saints Sect. The Jade Peak Sect's power was legendary, but rumors had begun to fade as their disciples had not emerged publicly for years, nearly causing the sect to be forgotten by the world... "Very well, behold my sword!" Yang Ruoruo thrust her blade forward instantly.

Li Muzhan lightly flicked his finger against the blade. With a faint ding, Yang Ruoruo's sword abruptly drooped, its tip sinking toward the earth. She quickly pulled back a step, struggling to reclaim her balance, looking at him with visible shock.

Li Muzhan smiled and shook his head. "Miss Yang, perhaps we should cease this now."

Yang Ruoruo pouted, staring at him in confusion, then hissed sharply, "Watch my sword!"

The sword tip cut a streak of cold light, stabbing toward him instantly. Li Muzhan shook his head in resignation and gently tapped the blade with his finger again. With a clear ding, the blade dipped downward once more, its tip pointing back to the ground.

Yang Ruoruo violently retreated. In a flash of movement at Li Muzhan's waist, the tip of her sword was pressed against his throat, then instantly withdrawn. He shook his head. "Miss Yang, it would be an unjust victory for me."

"You... you..." Yang Ruoruo stared at him, stunned, her red lips slightly parted.

Li Muzhan smiled. "Your swordsmanship is good, but regrettably, your cultivation level is lacking."

"Who exactly are you?" Yang Ruoruo frowned.

Li Muzhan smiled faintly. "He Zudao of the Sword Sect."

"How have I never heard your name?" Yang Ruoruo frowned in bewilderment. A peerless master like him should be immensely famous. She herself was a genius in her sect, her swordsmanship deeply honed; though she wasn't certain of her true strength outside, she had few equals within her sect, yet here she couldn't survive a single exchange. There was no way this man could be a nobody.

Li Muzhan smiled gently. "I am indeed an unknown."

"Are all disciples of your Sword Sect this powerful?" Yang Ruoruo asked.

Li Muzhan shook his head and smiled faintly.

Yang Ruoruo relaxed slightly, asking casually, "What brings you here? Are you deliberately seeking us out?"

Li Muzhan chuckled. "I am traveling the world, seeing the sights. I heard the scenery on Meng Mountain was exceptional and came to look. I didn't expect to find the Jade Peak Sect stationed here."

"Do you wish to see my Master?" Yang Ruoruo asked.

Li Muzhan's eyebrows lifted slightly. He smiled. "To call unannounced would be rather abrupt, wouldn't it?"

Yang Ruoruo shook her head. "It is not abrupt. My Master would surely wish to meet a disciple of the Sword Sect."

Li Muzhan was inwardly curious. He smiled and nodded. "If that is the case, I shall impose upon her kindness!"

"Follow me then!" Yang Ruoruo sheathed her sword and turned, gracefully descending the mountain.