Chapter 77
Walking along the cobblestone path, Ji Wuye's gaze drifted over the serene landscape before him. Delicate cherry blossom petals danced on the gentle breeze, swirling and alighting like ethereal spirits.
The tranquil murmurs of the creek, its waters cascading from the mist-veiled peak of Kunlun Mountain nestled high above, mingled with the melodious laughter and giggles of disciples frolicking at its banks.
Clusters of female disciples waded in the shallows, their feet submerged in the cool waters as they chased one another in a vision akin to celestial fairies at play.
The crisp, invigorating mountain air intertwined with the heady, citrus fragrance emanating from the surrounding cherry trees, enveloping the scene in an intoxicating sensory embrace.
Ji Wuye's attention shifted towards the distant training grounds, where shadows of sparring disciples danced amidst resounding clashes of wooden swords and encouraging shouts echoing across the expanse.
A pang of nostalgia stirred within him, swiftly overshadowed by the lingering resentment over their narrow-minded cruelty towards him.
Yet, the sight of the sect's return to normalcy brought a slight easing of the tension weighing upon his shoulders and burdening his mind.
Abruptly, the idyllic scene wavered, fading into the howling winds that snapped him back to reality. For a fleeting moment, he gazed dazedly at the now-empty landscape, a stark contrast to the vivid imagining that had transpired.
The screams from the previous night and the ensuing commotion made it impossible for the disciples to relax, save for the Official and Inner Disciples who maintained an aura of composure.
"This is how the situation should be," Ji Wuye sighed, his footsteps leading him towards the deserted Outer Disciple Courtyard training grounds.
'They should still be at the Central Courtyard,' he mused inwardly, redirecting his path to the designated area where he found the Outer Disciples scattered about.
An air of gloom permeated the courtyard, with most disciples wearing solemn expressions, their demeanors radiating an unwelcoming aura.
Some appeared utterly exhausted, resembling walking corpses, while others rhythmically banged their heads against the ground in a gesture of distress.
The chaotic scene unfolded in silence, devoid of conversation or words of encouragement exchanged between the disciples.
Amidst the disarray, Ji Wuye's gaze settled upon the cluster of female disciples, his eyes lingering on their forms. They huddled together, tears streaming down their flushed cheeks as they comforted one another.
"Greetings, beautiful ladies," Ji Wuye called out, his tone warm and inviting as he directed a smile towards the grief-stricken female disciples.
"Brother Ji~" Their eyes glistening with a renewed flicker of hope, the female disciples instantly surrounded him, their lithe forms pressing against his embrace as if drawn to a precious gemstone.
"Eh, Big Sisters, Senior Sisters, please don't come so close. I've just finished my training," Ji Wuye deftly extricated himself from their embrace, though his hands inadvertently grazed against their bodies in the process.
The female disciples who had thrown themselves against Ji Wuye fell silent, their eyes trailing over every inch of his sweat-dampened martial robe, drinking in the sight as a flush crept across their cheeks.
"E-eh! Y-you're r-right, Brother Ji..." "Mm... p-please excuse your Senior Sister's indecent behavior."
Despite their words, their gazes lingered, stealing furtive glances at his form as they turned away, their bodies trembling with barely suppressed desire.
Noticing the gloomy pall that had descended upon the courtyard, an idea sparked in Ji Wuye's mind.
"How strong have you become, Senior and Big Sisters? As you know, this Ji has already reached the 2nd realm," he inquired, his gaze sweeping over them, eyes brimming with anticipation.
The question seemed to dispel the lingering blushes, their expressions instantly transforming into ones of confidence and smug assurance, though one of them chuckled, realizing his intent to lift their spirits.
"Of course, Little Brother Ji didn't know. Despite my slender hands, I can slap a giant crocodile! I've also mastered a skill called Palm Strike, doesn't that sound formidable?" one exclaimed excitedly, rolling up her slender arms before executing the Palm Strike maneuver with practiced ease.
BANG!
A thunderous blast of air erupted forth from her strike, her Martial Sisters regarding her with admiring gazes. "Wow, you're so skilled, Big Sister! Please, teach me, teach me!"
"Be cautious, Little Sister. While this technique appears simple to execute, the impact is truly fearsome!" cautioned another female disciple, her form fluid as she replicated the move with a melodious giggle.
"As for realms, mine remains unchanged," another disciple piped up, her gaze eagerly seeking Ji Wuye's approval as she positioned herself before him. "But I've mastered the 'Swift Thread Needle Fingers' technique, observe!"
Her hands blurred with dizzying speed, striking at unseen targets with precise jabs, eliciting polite applause from her sisters.
"Remember, Brother Ji, all skills are merely the essentials; true strength lies in the foundation," chimed in another female disciple, the one who had recognized Ji Wuye's intention from the start. "What truly fortifies us is the cultivation of compassion."
"Senior Sister and Big Sisters speak wisely," Ji Wuye replied with a respectful nod. "This Ji already comprehends! Your might is unparalleled; who would be foolish enough to relegate you as mere maids?!"
His words elicited a chorus of chuckles from the female disciples. Thanks to their martial arts training, the societal norm that placed men as the dominant force had begun to loosen its grip, yet vestiges of the outdated belief persisted.
They had joined Kunlun with the determined purpose of proving themselves as women who could not be easily discarded or mistreated!
Thus, Ji Wuye's affirmation struck a resonant chord within their hearts.
Yet, as he observed their spirited behavior, Ji Wuye could only chuckle inwardly.
In his eyes, they were but children, young ladies who had yet to experience the depth of maturity he had attained. For one who had lived not one, but two lifetimes, their blushes and playful antics held little sway over his steadfast heart.
'At least, they can still jest and blush even in this dire situation,' he mused, noting their swollen eyes, likely from excessive tears shed, perhaps having barely survived the harrowing challenges of the fourth floor.
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