Perhaps the cultivators of Lush Mountain simply lacked self-awareness. They considered the Heart-Questioning Path an excellent place to train, perfect for tempering both heart and sword, and felt restless if they didn't walk it at least once a day. So there was always a cultivator being thrown off the path. It was one of Lush Mountain's defining sights.
The stone steps beneath Ye Chuqi's feet had neither the sentience nor the heart-testing power of the Heart-Questioning Path. But she knew Lush Mountain's path so well that even the patterns on these steps seemed identical to its own.
The white mist and the hidden Formations around her were the Sword Tomb's crucial defenses. They made it difficult to find the tomb's true location amid the bewildering arrays and obscuring fog. Even the steps underfoot twisted and doubled back, throwing off anyone trying to navigate them.
Ye Chuqi didn't need to navigate. Neither the Formations nor the mist affected her. She didn't even need to look at the steps to find the right one. She could have placed her feet exactly where they belonged with her eyes closed.
Conversations with Eldest Senior Brother from years ago seemed to echo in her ears.
"Eldest Senior Brother, look! The others have left so many footprints on these steps." People sometimes got excited while climbing and accidentally left a footprint. At some point, leaving one's own footprints on the steps had become a tradition.
Every step, every footprint, was proof of their strength.
"Eldest Senior Brother, that's my footprint! Look, I can leave one on the steps now!"
"Eldest Senior Brother, where's your footprint?"
"Hahaha! I'm going to put mine right inside yours!"
"..."
When she opened her eyes again, she had reached the end of the steps. The white mist dispersed, revealing a platform