True Face Revealed

Night had fallen deep and heavy. Fengyun Wuji stood alone in the center of a vast palace hall, his divine sense sweeping through every corner of the imperial compound. In the silence, the air occasionally split with the sound of movement—figures slicing through the darkness. He knew these were assassins, desperate men who had dared to breach the palace in a wild bid to murder the emperor. But he did not need to intervene. In every shadowed corridor and secluded hall, his personally trained guards lay in wait. The moment these martial outlaws appeared, they would be swarmed by elite inner-court warriors.

Just a month ago, the palace had been little more than an empty shell—its defenses a mockery, allowing martial artists to come and go as they pleased. Now, it was likely the most fortified place under heaven. Tens of thousands of elite guards patrolled its halls, and with a Sovereign-tier expert like Fengyun Wuji anchoring its core, the martial world had lost its power to threaten the throne.

With Fengyun Wuji's support, the ambitions of Emperor Shengming had found fertile ground to flourish. The imperial authority tightened day by day, consolidating swiftly, decisively. The chaotic Jianghu could no longer pose a threat to the royal line—and that, for Shengming, was the best possible outcome. The era of knights defying the law in the name of righteousness was over.

"Master Ancestor," a gentle voice called. The doors creaked open. Gu Yuetian stepped in, holding an ornate tray of tea. "I acquired some rare palace tea. You've worked tirelessly day and night—please, take a moment to nourish your spirit."

As he set the tea service on the table and poured a cup, a subtle fragrance began to drift through the hall. It was faint but refreshing, almost invigorating. Fengyun Wuji took a deep breath and felt his thoughts clear, as if his mind had been washed clean.

"Where did you find such fine tea?" he asked, intrigued. "It even has a cleansing effect on the soul."

"The imperial physicians say it comes from the icy reaches of the far north," Gu Yuetian explained. "Only one leaf in a hundred is picked, and it takes a thousand years to harvest. It's the finest of the finest."

"Is that so?" Wuji lifted the teacup, took in its aroma, and inhaled deeply. A cool sensation rushed through his mind, like his thoughts had been bathed in snow and ice. Even his divine sense felt denser, sharper.

Just as he brought the cup to his lips, a figure stepped from the shadows and knelt. "My lord," the voice was low, respectful, "I bring news."

Wuji lowered the cup and turned. "What is it?"

"Eagle Division reports that Baili Lang, sect master of the Cangmang Sword Sect, has issued a notice to all major sects. He's calling for a gathering at Mount Tai in five days to discuss the selection of a new martial alliance leader—to restore order to the Jianghu."

"What?" Wuji's body stiffened. A rare slip of composure. He waved the man away. "Go."

"Yes, my lord." The messenger retreated carefully, only turning once he was several paces back.

Storms churned in Fengyun Wuji's heart. The emperor had entrusted all Jianghu-related affairs to him, and the intelligence from Eagle Division made it clear—Baili Lang's intentions were not as righteous as they seemed.

Wuji could still recall the day dozens of energy blades pierced Baili Lang's body—yet the man had merely grunted. No blood. His wounds had sealed almost instantly. Something was not right.

He began pacing, thoughts swirling.

Cangmang Sword Sect had emerged from the recent chaos unscathed, while other sects bled elite after elite. The number of Ascension-stage cultivators across the martial world had sharply declined—but not within the Cangmang Sect. The goal of that shadowy power behind the turmoil was now obvious: to thin the ranks of this plane's Ascension cultivators.

Only a few known forces would benefit from that outcome.

Then there was Leng Ruoshuang's poisoning and the bizarre phenomena that followed—including that strange green avatar formed of pure qi. Fengyun Wuji suddenly froze, a name bursting unbidden from his lips:

"Demon Clan…"

Only a handful of entities could grant someone hundreds of thousands of years of power in a flash—and among them, only the Demon Clan stood truly opposed to humanity. The Celestials were bound by their pact with the Sanctuary and would not break it lightly. As for the Blood Clan… he had never encountered them, but his instincts whispered they were not the culprits.

No, the aura emanating from that green avatar had been pure demonic energy—an energy Wuji knew well.

When he spoke the words "Demon Clan," Gu Yuetian visibly flinched, a tremor passing through his body. Then he lowered his head, deep in thought.

"Master Ancestor," Gu Yuetian said carefully. "The tea is getting cold. Things are chaotic—drink it while it's hot, regain your focus. It's the least this disciple can offer."

Wuji looked at the cup again, then at Gu Yuetian's earnest expression, and smiled faintly. "You're thoughtful."

He raised the lid and gently blew aside the floating leaves. But just as the cup reached his lips, he paused, a contemplative look flashing in his eyes.

"Master Ancestor?" Gu Yuetian prodded, nervously. "It'll go cold…"

"Oh?" Wuji raised the cup again, but then stopped. Watching Gu Yuetian, who was watching him intently, Wuji smiled. And calmly, he set the cup down.

"Are you very eager for me to drink this tea?" he asked softly.

"Uh… yes—wait, no!" Gu Yuetian stammered, panic flaring in his eyes. "What do you mean?"

Clack!Wuji placed the lid down firmly. His voice dropped into ice. "You're not Gu Yuetian."

"Master Ancestor—what… what are you saying? I don't understand…"

"Oh, but you do," Wuji said coldly, standing tall. "I began watching you the moment you 'just happened' to appear at that inn. Too coincidental."

"But you found me, didn't you? You said—"

"South Star Sect. That's when I truly started to suspect. You claimed Mo Xian was a backstabbing traitor, but his attack was full of holes. He could have killed you easily—yet didn't. He even held back his disciples. A man that clever wouldn't waste such a chance, especially knowing how powerful you'd become after Ascension."

"But Master Ancestor, you saw it all with your own eyes! Why defend that traitor—?"

"Do you take me for a blind fool?" Wuji snapped. "His final strike was clumsy—deliberately so. He wasn't trying to kill you. He was passing you a message. There was a slip of paper between his fingers, but you didn't even look at it—you destroyed it, then nearly shattered his heart meridian."

"Lies!" Gu Yuetian shouted.

"You still won't admit it?" Wuji's voice sharpened. "Then explain this—how did you find Doctor Ghostweeper and the others? They used disguise pills. Even I only found them because I had marked them with my qi. You? You just knew?"

He stepped forward. "And this tea—did you poison it, just like you did to Leng Ruoshuang?"

Gu Yuetian paled. "You're mistaken! I'll drink it, right now!" He grabbed the cup and drained it in one gulp. "See? I'm fine!"

Wuji watched him closely. No visible change.

Then he sneered. "Guards—bring me a black dog."

"No need."It was Gu Yuetian who spoke this time, rising abruptly, shoving the table aside as he leapt backward, eyes cold. "So, you saw through it. Your caution truly runs deep."

"You finally show your true face," Wuji said, his voice like steel. But in his heart, a sharp pain bloomed. If this impostor wasn't Gu Yuetian, then the real one was already… gone.

The grief hit like a blade.