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Yi Huawei's tone returned to calm, but the force in his words was even greater:

"You say the Demonic Sect is the source of chaos? Their actions may be eccentric and ruthless, but their ambitions are limited to the expansion of personal desires. Your Cihang Jingzhai, however, seeks to 'act on behalf of Heaven,' to decide the master and future direction of the entire world. Your power, your ideals, and your transcendent status have given you influence far exceeding that of the Demonic Sect. Every choice you make affects the lives and deaths of countless people and influences the fate of dynasties. You believe you represent 'goodness' and 'the Way of Heaven,' so everything you do is 'correct.' However, this unchecked 'absolute correctness,' acting solely based on your own ideals, is the most terrifying thing in the world."

Because no one can question, no one can supervise, and no one can check or balance you. If your judgment is flawed, or… if your 'Heavenly Way' is tainted by selfishness, the resulting disaster will be far greater than that of ten demonic sects. An organization upholding the belief of 'absolute justice' often possesses destructive power far exceeding that of pure evil.

After a pause, Yi Huawei looked at Shi Feixuan's slightly trembling eyelashes and tightly pursed lips, and continued:
"Your Jingzhai is essentially an organization that operates outside the laws of the dynasty and the rules of the martial world, possessing the privilege to interfere in the affairs of the world solely based on your own ideals and martial prowess. Your very existence is the greatest challenge to 'order.' You demand benevolence from the monarch and peace from the world, yet you have never considered that your own privilege, which is above the rules, is the greatest 'lack of benevolence' and the greatest 'unpeace'."

Your very existence tells the world that there is a power that can transcend worldly rules and act on behalf of Heaven. Doesn't this encourage all those with power to emulate you and pursue unrestrained privileges? You, Jingzhai, are the ones truly playing with fire.

This fire is burning down the very foundation of the world.

"........."

A deathly silence fell over the carriage. The crunching of the wheels over the frozen ground and the friction of the axle turning seemed particularly jarring at that moment.

Shi Feixuan's face had turned as pale as paper. Every word Yi Huawei spoke was like a heavy hammer, striking the very foundation of her lifelong beliefs.

He wasn't attacking any particular person or event within Jingzhai, but rather fundamentally questioning the legal basis for Jingzhai's existence! He was questioning the sacred mission of "acting on behalf of Heaven," which was revered by countless people!

His analysis was ruthless and precise, pointing directly to the core contradictions and potential dangers of Jingzhai's thousand-year-old operating model. His gentle and calm tone made these words seem not like a contest of emotions, but a condescending and insightful judgment.

Shi Feixuan felt her mind churning, and her previously unshaken state of sword clarity was shaken like never before. Questions she had never considered, or rather, deliberately avoided, were now laid bare before her.

Is Jingzhai truly saving the world? Or... as he says, is he becoming part of the source of chaos in a more hidden and "sacred" way? Is Jingzhai's "Way of Heaven" the true Way of Heaven, or... Jingzhai's own will?

Shi Feixuan opened her mouth, wanting to refute, to uphold the dignity of her sect, to rebuke the other party for their blasphemous behavior. However, a thousand words stuck in her throat, and she couldn't utter a single one. Because deep within her heart, a faint yet clear voice asked: What he said... wasn't entirely unreasonable?

Yi Huawei stopped looking at her and closed his eyes again, as if his previous remarks, which had been enough to overturn the beliefs of the righteous martial arts world, were nothing more than a casual chat during a journey. His last words, like cold embers, drifted away in the stagnant air:

“Miss Feixuan, go back and ask your master, Fan Qinghui, and the ancestral tablets of the Jingzhai. What gives your Cihang Jingzhai the right to do this?”

Why?
These three words, like three cold steel needles, pierced deeply into Shi Feixuan's heart. She sat stiffly on the cold wooden board, her fingers inside her sleeves cold and rigid. The Qing Sheng Sword Intent that had been gathering power within her had long since dissipated, leaving only immense bewilderment and helplessness.

The carriage continued its bumpy journey towards Chang'an, the city where fortunes were at their peak. But Shi Feixuan's worldview was utterly shaken within the cramped carriage by a stranger who was as silent as a rock, yet whose words were like thunderclaps.

Yi Huawei's aura returned to calm, as if his grand pronouncements had never occurred. Only the lingering, heavy pressure in the carriage and Shi Feixuan's pale, dazed face silently testified to the breathtaking intellectual clash that had just taken place. He was going to Cihang Jingzhai not only for the He Shi Bi jade and the sword manual, but also to see if the foundation of this sacred place, which attempted to "act on behalf of Heaven," was as fragile as he had analyzed it to be.

...............

Chang'an City.

Its massive silhouette loomed in and out of sight in the winter haze, like a lurking beast.

Yi Huawei and Shi Feixuan did not enter the city. Their carriage turned southwest at the southern fork in the road and headed straight for Zhongnan Mountain.

Speechless all the way.

Shi Feixuan sat listlessly in a corner of the carriage, her face pale and her eyes dark.

Last night in the simple room of the inn, Yi Huawei's cold and precise analysis echoed repeatedly in her mind like a curse. Those questions that pointed directly to the very foundation of Jingzhai's existence were like countless cold needles, piercing through the armor of beliefs instilled in her since childhood. She tried to silently recite the Jingzhai mantra, tried to visualize the solemnity of the Buddha statue, tried to use her sword heart to clarify her mind, but all to no avail.

Yi Huawei's words, carrying an irresistible logical force and a penetrating indifference, carved a deep crack in her steadfast Dao heart. She didn't sleep all night, her spirit was exhausted, and her once ethereal and pure aura had dimmed considerably.

Yi Huawei ignored this completely. He remained with his eyes closed, seemingly oblivious to the fact that his grand pronouncements from the previous night, which were enough to overturn the righteous path's beliefs, were merely a dusting brush off his clothes. His aura was as deep and solid as a mountain, a stark contrast to Shi Feixuan's disordered state.

After driving for half a day, the rugged outline of the Zhongnan Mountains came into view.

The winter mountains were covered with patches of snow, while the dark green pines and cypresses stubbornly pierced through the white, making them appear even more solemn and profound. The carriage stopped at a secluded fork in the road at the foot of the mountain, where there was no road ahead for carriages and horses.

"Senior, we have arrived at Emperor's Peak."

Shi Feixuan's voice was dry and hoarse, filled with deep fatigue. She got out of the carriage first, the cold wind whipping up the hem of her blue cloth robe, her slender figure appearing particularly desolate against the vast mountain scenery.

Yi Huawei then got out of the car, still wrapped in that thick gray cotton robe, the hood covering most of his face, revealing only his sharply defined jawline. He looked up at the towering Zhongnan Mountains, his gaze calm and unwavering.

The mountain road was rugged and covered with ice and snow.

Shi Feixuan silently led the way, her steps no longer light as usual, appearing somewhat heavy and hesitant. Yi Huawei followed behind with steady steps, his footsteps crunching clearly on the frozen snow crust. The two walked silently, one in front of the other, into the depths of the mountain.

The mountain road wound its way upwards, the pines rustling in the wind, a biting cold wind blowing. After walking for about an hour, the path suddenly turned, and a breathtaking view opened up before us.

A massive stone archway stands at the entrance to the mountain path, spanning the trail. Carved from ancient, weathered bluestone, the archway bears deep, intricate patterns. Above the plaque, ten large characters are inscribed in a powerful and vigorous style:

My home is nestled in these mountains, hidden deep within the clouds. The inscription exudes a transcendent, ethereal, and profound quality. Beyond the archway lies the only path leading to Cihang Jingzhai on Dita Peak. Enveloped in mist, the mountain path and the buildings deep within are partially obscured, truly living up to the description of "hidden deep within the clouds."

Shi Feixuan stopped before the archway, gazing at the familiar inscription with a complex expression. This place had once been her spiritual refuge, her sanctuary. But now, returning with a terrifying presence who intended to overthrow the foundations of Jingzhai, she was utterly bewildered. Taking a deep breath of the cold air, she forced herself to focus, glanced back at Yi Huawei, and whispered:
"Senior, please follow me."

Passing through the archway, the mountain path became even more secluded. Ancient trees reached for the sky, their branches gnarled and twisted, adorned with glistening icicles. After walking about a hundred steps, the first wooden gate came into view.

The door is made of heavy ancient wood, unpainted, revealing the natural grain of the wood and the marks of time. The door knocker is cast in bronze and decorated with a simple yet exquisite lotus pattern, symbolizing the purity and freedom from defilement in Buddhism.

Shi Feixuan stepped forward, without knocking, but simply ran her hand along the door knocker a few times in a specific rhythm. The wooden door opened silently inward, as if pulled by a mechanism. Behind the door was a quieter stone path that wound its way into the woods.

Yi Huawei's gaze swept over the lotus pattern on the door knocker, his eyes indifferent. This symbolic separation meant nothing to him.

As you ascend, a similar wooden door appears every so often. The second, the third... the materials and sizes of the doors vary slightly, but the style is consistent: simple and dignified, and without exception, the door knockers are decorated with lotus flowers.

Behind each door, the scenery seemed to deepen, the trees became more verdant, the mountains more precipitous, and the mist thicker. The air was crisp and clear, carrying the cool fragrance of pines and the scent of snow, and the spiritual energy seemed slightly richer than outside.

Each time Shi Feixuan approached a door, she opened it with a unique technique. Her movements were practiced, yet carried a subtle stiffness. Yi Huawei followed silently, his divine sense already spreading like an invisible tide, penetrating layers of trees and rocks, sensing this mountain region shrouded in arrays. He could detect the faint energy flowing in the air, following a specific trajectory, forming a tranquil and peaceful yet subtly warning force field. This array was quite ingenious, capable of blocking spying and confusing intruders, but for his current level of cultivation, it was like a transparent spiderweb, easily broken at the slightest touch.

Finally, the seventh wooden door came into view.

This door is completely different from the previous six. The entire door is a deep, heavy maroon color, solemn and ancient, exuding a sense of awe-inspiring grandeur. The door panels are thick, the door studs are enormous, and the door knocker, though still a bronze lotus, is larger and more intricately patterned. This door is the true gateway to Cihang Jingzhai—the final of the seven doors.

Shi Feixuan stood before the crimson gate, her expression becoming unusually solemn. She straightened her blue cloth robe, and despite being dressed in men's clothing, she straightened her back, striving to regain the demeanor befitting a successor of Cihang Jingzhai. She stretched out her hands, solemnly grasped the cold bronze lotus door knocker, and knocked it three times in a manner imbued with a unique rhythm and inner strength.

Boom...boom...boom...

The heavy knocking echoed through the silent forest, carrying a solemn declaration of return.

A moment of silence followed. Then, the heavy, maroon door creaked open slowly. A unique, richer aroma, a blend of sandalwood, scriptures, and the chill of ice and snow, wafted out.

Inside the door, the space suddenly opened up.

A vast plaza paved with bluestone slabs came into view. The plaza was wide and flat, the snow swept away, revealing the texture of the bluestone. Surrounding the plaza were evergreen pines and cypresses, their branches laden with icicles that shimmered with a cool, serene light in the thin winter sun. At the far end of the plaza stood the main buildings of Cihang Jingzhai.

The first thing that catches the eye is the main hall, Cihang Hall, located directly behind the square and built against the mountain.

The main hall is extremely simple and solemn in style, without any luxurious or elaborate decorations. The massive beams and pillars, constructed from single ancient logs, support the deep, soaring eaves. The roof is covered with bluish-gray tiles, the eaves of which are carved with simple lotus patterns. The walls are thick, rammed earth walls of a yellowish-brown color, with dark wood used only at the window lattices, the window patterns being simple geometric lines. The entire hall exudes a sense of profound solemnity and unadorned beauty, blending seamlessly with the surrounding mountain and forest environment.

The main hall's doors were open, but the interior was dimly lit. A Buddha statue could be vaguely seen deep within, incense smoke curling upwards. Beside the Buddha statue stood a statue of a nun, the founder of Cihang Jingzhai. The atmosphere within the hall was solemn, imbued with a profound power of faith and the solemnity accumulated over time.

On the left side of the square, some distance away, nestled among a lush pine and cypress forest, stands a uniquely shaped building – the Tibetan Pagoda.

The pagoda isn't particularly tall, only seven stories high, but its structure is extremely intricate. The base is a square stone platform, and the pagoda itself tapers inwards with each story, forming an octagon. The eaves of each story curve slightly upwards, from which small bronze wind chimes hang. The surface of the pagoda lacks ornate paintings, featuring only simple stone carvings out Buddhist motifs such as lotus petals and auspicious clouds. The entire pagoda conveys a sense of restraint, mystery, and profound wisdom.

Yi Huawei's gaze lingered on the Scripture Tower for a moment. He could clearly sense that an extremely subtle yet powerful energy field enveloped the tower, like an invisible shield tightly protecting it. That was the formation protecting the Jingzhai martial arts manuals and precious books. The formation operated smoothly, its energy pure, subtly resonating with the forces of heaven and earth that repelled him in this world; it was clearly a top-tier technique of this realm.

"The master and fellow disciples should already be waiting inside the hall."

Shi Feixuan's voice carried a hint of barely perceptible tension as she whispered to Yi Huawei, leading him onto the bluestone path of the square.

The square was empty, and the sound of their footsteps was particularly clear in the silence. Yi Huawei's steps were steady as ever, each step seemingly carrying a tremendous weight, subtly resisting the solemn atmosphere of the square. Shi Feixuan, on the other hand, seemed to be walking with difficulty. The exhaustion from not sleeping last night and the immense pressure in her heart had left her in a daze, and each step felt like walking on cotton.

Just then, a clear, cool, and subtly authoritative female voice came from inside the Cihang Hall. The voice was not loud, but it clearly covered the entire square, like a flowing icy spring:
"Feixuan, who is behind you? Why are you bringing strangers into the secluded cultivation area of ​​Emperor's Peak?"

As the words were spoken, the light at the entrance of Cihang Hall dimmed slightly. A figure appeared inside the hall.

The visitor was none other than Fan Qinghui, the contemporary abbot of Cihang Jingzhai.

She wore a simple, moon-white robe, its design adorned only with pale gold lotus patterns embroidered on the collar and cuffs. Her jet-black hair, like clouds, was simply styled into a topknot, adorned with a lustrous jade hairpin. Her face was exquisitely beautiful, defying any discernible age; time seemed to have stood still for her, except for her deep, penetrating eyes that held a wisdom that revealed the depths of the world and a serene composure born of experience.

Her aura was ethereal and otherworldly, yet she carried an invisible pressure from someone who had long held a high position and ruled the sacred land. At this moment, her gaze, like solid ice, passed over Shi Feixuan and locked firmly on Yi Huawei, who was wrapped in a gray cotton robe. Her eyes held scrutiny, solemnity, and a hint of offended coldness.

The air in the square seemed to freeze instantly. Even the icicles on the pine and cypress branches seemed to stop shimmering. Shi Feixuan stiffened, her face paled, and her lips moved slightly, but she didn't know how to answer for a moment.

Yi Huawei slowly raised his head, and in the shadows beneath his hood, his deep, unfathomable eyes met Fan Qinghui's gaze. He didn't speak, but simply looked at the renowned Master of Jingzhai, as if assessing the value of an item.

An invisible pressure, centered on him, began to quietly spread, silently colliding and clashing with Fan Qinghui's pure and majestic aura on the empty bluestone square.

The tranquility of the ancient temple atop Emperor's Peak, which had stood for a thousand years, was utterly shattered.

(End of this chapter)