The news spread faster than the wind.
By the second dawn after the light erupted from the mountain, every sect within the region had heard about it, a column of black and white energy piercing the clouds, seen even from the far deserts of Lu Yuan. No one knew what it meant, but everyone felt it. The earth trembled, the air changed, and cultivators across the continent woke in the middle of the night with their qi suddenly in chaos.
In the upper halls of the Azure Dragon Sect, a group of elders gathered in silence. Candles flickered though there was no wind. The Grand Elder, a man with hair white as frost, stared at the sealed letter before him.
"The light came from the Jade Mountain," said one of the younger elders. "Our scouts reported that the Earthwind Sect was closest to it."
"And?" the old man asked, his voice rough, like sand dragged over stone.
The younger elder swallowed. "No one knows what caused it. But… a name keeps coming up. Jian Wu."
The room went still. The name carried nothing special to most people it was unfamiliar, just another mortal name. But among the older generation, it stirred something old, something that shouldn't have been spoken aloud.
Another elder leaned forward, his voice soft. "Jian Wu. The same title once used by the bearer of the Primal Law. You think it's coincidence?"
The Grand Elder didn't answer. He simply blew out the candle nearest to him, and in the sudden dimness, his eyes glowed faintly. "Coincidence," he whispered, "is only what the ignorant call destiny."
Far to the north, in the Sable Valley, deep underground, the Black Sky Sect was already awake.
Their hall wasn't filled with light or gold, but shadows long curtains of darkness that moved like liquid around the pillars. A woman stood at the center, her robe black as ink, hair tied with silver thread. Her eyes were sharp, unreadable, like those of a serpent watching prey.
"The balance is shifting again," she said quietly. "The seal was not supposed to stir for another century."
Behind her, a man knelt, his face hidden beneath a mask. "The scouts confirmed it, Lady Zhen. The energy carries both yin and yang in equal force. Only one bloodline can awaken such harmony."
Lady Zhen's lips curved faintly. "Then the heir truly exists."
Her voice didn't sound pleased. It sounded like someone remembering an old wound. She turned toward the darkness behind her. "Summon the Whisper Crows. Spread word to the high lords. The game resumes."
The man bowed and vanished into the shadows, leaving her alone.
Lady Zhen stood silent for a while, then reached out toward a small black mirror on her desk. Inside it, faint ripples of light appeared, white and black intertwining, mirroring the same pulse that came from the Jade Mountain. For a moment, her reflection flickered, replaced by another face, older and colder.
"Do not interfere," said the voice from the mirror.
Lady Zhen bowed her head slightly. "I don't intend to. I only want to know who dares disturb the balance."
The reflection faded, leaving the room darker than before.
Meanwhile, in a quiet valley between the borders of two sects, an old hermit sat on a rock by a river. He looked like a beggar, clothes torn, hair unkempt, sandals falling apart. Yet when he exhaled, the mist around him bent away, and the grass bowed as if in respect.
He whispered to himself, "The Primal Law breathes again… So, the boy has awakened it."
A small bird landed on his shoulder. "Master," it chirped softly, though its voice was clearly not human. "Will you go to him?"
The hermit smiled without looking up. "No. The river must find its own path. If he's truly the heir, he doesn't need me."
The bird tilted its head. "And if he's not?"
"Then the world will correct him," the old man said simply, and threw a pebble into the water. The ripple spread wide, glowing faintly, and for a brief second, it formed a shape the mountain, and a young man standing before a chasm of light.
The old man watched it fade, his eyes dim but calm. "Still… I pity him."
Back at the Earthwind Sect, the aftermath of the explosion still lingered. Disciples worked to rebuild damaged halls, sweeping debris from the courtyards. The mountain wind carried the faint smell of burnt stone and qi residue.
Mei Xue helped patch the cracked pillars of the outer temple, her hands trembling slightly. Every time she closed her eyes, she still saw that blinding light, the image of Jian Wu kneeling before the chasm, surrounded by light and shadow twisting together like wings.
Li Feng was nearby, speaking to Ling Xian, who looked more tired than ever.
"The world will come for him," Ling Xian said quietly, gaze distant. "And not just them. The balance he broke… it won't go unnoticed by the heavens."
Li Feng tightened his grip on his sword. "Then what should we do? Hand him over? Or protect him?"
The elder sighed. "You can't protect the eye of a storm."
Their conversation ended when a bell echoed from the main gate. A scout ran in, panting, robes torn. "Elder! Riders from the Black Sky Sect are at the border! They demand an audience!"
Everyone froze.
Mei Xue dropped the stone she was holding. "They're already here?"
Ling Xian turned toward the horizon, expression grim. "It seems fate doesn't like to wait."
That evening, as the sun dipped behind the mountains, a group of riders in black stood outside the Earthwind gates. The air around them shimmered faintly, thick with spiritual pressure. Their leader dismounted slowly, a young man with silver eyes and a scar along his neck.
"I come under the order of Lady Zhen," he said. His tone wasn't threatening, just calm, too calm. "We heard the seal has been disturbed. We wish to verify the truth."
Ling Xian stood on the steps, Mei Xue and Li Feng at his side. "The mountain belongs to no sect," he said firmly. "If you wish to see it, you'll do so under our watch."
The man smiled faintly. "Of course, Elder. I wouldn't dream of offending you."
But his eyes, when they drifted past Ling Xian and landed briefly on Mei Xue, carried a glint of something else, curiosity, maybe recognition. Then he turned away.
As the black riders waited, a strange chill moved through the air, and somewhere deep inside the sect, Jian Wu stirred from his sleep. His chest throbbed with that same pull again, faint but steady. He didn't know why, but he could feel eyes watching, not just from outside the sect, but from the sky itself.
Far away, across mountains and rivers, in a place where the clouds never moved and time seemed to pause, the Council of Heaven's Recorders gathered. Their robes were pure white, faces hidden behind silver masks. One of them held a glowing scroll.
"The signal has been confirmed," the masked one said. "The Primal Thread has returned to the mortal plane."
Another voice replied, cold and echoing. "Then the balance is undone."
The scroll burned brighter, and words began to write themselves on its surface, names, sects, and in the center, one single name glowing faintly.
Jian Wu.
A final voice, older than the rest, spoke quietly.
"Prepare the decree."
And somewhere below the heavens,
Jian Wu woke from his uneasy dream, unaware that his name had just been written into the next chapter of the world.