Zhang Ruoyun.

Mount Wuyi, Zhang Family.

The wind whispered through the bamboo forest, a symphony of rustling leaves and unseen murmurs. Amidst the jade sea of towering stalks, a lone figure stood, her presence like an ethereal wraith descending upon the mortal world.

Her raven black hair was now turned into silver hair that cascaded like moonlight, strands lifted by an unseen force, flowing in tandem with her pristine robes, embroidered with celestial patterns that shimmered under the dim glow of dusk. A mask of blackened silver adorned her delicate face, yet it did not conceal the radiance of her-now violet eyes—piercing, unwavering, as if the cosmos had woven the galaxies into her gaze.

Then, she moved.