A gust of wind blew outside as a dark figure seemed to melt through the room like a shadow. Before Mu Qingyan could finish his shout, Cai Zhao had already leaped into action, pursuing the figure through the chaotic curtain of rain. However, she quickly realized she wouldn’t be able to catch up.
The mysterious figure moved with an eerily fluid grace, their steps light and ghostlike. Their profound martial arts skills, combined with the initial head start, made them nearly impossible to catch. Moreover, Cai Zhao was unfamiliar with the terrain of Taichu Temple.
As if to confirm her fears, the chase led them to a garden filled with rock formations. The dark figure weaved left and right, vanishing among the pitch-black stones. Before disappearing completely, they smashed a large section of a man-high rockery.
The sound of falling rocks was deafening even in the heavy rain.
Cai Zhao hesitated for a moment before realizing the figure’s intent – to alert the Taichu Temple disciples. In any normal sect, an intruder in the middle of the night would prompt immediate notification of the sect leader. But now, the Taichu Temple leader was nothing more than a corpse.
When Cai Zhao returned empty-handed, Mu Qingyan expressed surprise: “You couldn’t catch up?” He wasn’t reproaching her; given Cai Zhao’s lightness skills, there were perhaps only a handful of people in the world who could escape her.
“Enough talk!” Cai Zhao said, taking a towel from Fan Xingjia to wipe her face. “How did Wang Yuanjing die?”
“Someone thrust a long sword through the wall, piercing his heart,” Fan Xingjia replied dejectedly. “There was no distinct technique, just raw power born of deep cultivation.”
Cai Zhao asked curiously, “What were you two doing in the room for so long?”
Mu Qingyan emerged from the room carrying a stack of opened letters. “Searching for hidden chambers or secret passages, and looking for any information Wang Yuanjing might have left about the mastermind.”
“Did you find anything?” Cai Zhao asked hopefully.
Mu Qingyan replied irritably, “Nothing at all.”
Cai Zhao sighed, “In that case, you’d better leave quickly. The Taichu Temple disciples will be here soon.” As she spoke, she sensed a crowd approaching from the distance.
“Me, leave?” Mu Qingyan frowned. “You two should go first. Whether I’m here or not, they’ll blame Wang Yuanjing’s death on our cult. It makes little difference if I stay or go.”
“So what, I’m supposed to stand by and watch you fight?” Cai Zhao had already considered this. “Should I side with family or with justice?”
Fan Xingjia sighed softly, thinking that they were truly caught between a rock and a hard place.
To their surprise, Mu Qingyan exclaimed, “What do you mean, family or justice? Am I not on both sides?”
Fan Xingjia: …
Just then, footsteps sounded outside. The people outside must have heard the voices inside. Li Yuanmin and several disciples anxiously burst through the door: “Master, brother, tonight someone…”
His voice cut off abruptly. Wang Yuanjing’s corpse was still pinned to the wall, eyes open, in a standing position.
And there were three people in the room.
“You… you!” Li Yuanmin’s eyes bulged with fury.
Despite knowing he was innocent, Fan Xingjia broke into a cold sweat under Li Yuanmin’s vengeful glare. He hurriedly said, “Uncle-master Li, fellow disciples, please hear me out. This isn’t what you think…”
“Oh, Fifth Senior Brother, even the cheapest novels on the market don’t explain things like that anymore. Readers would demand refunds!” Cai Zhao said disdainfully, pulling Fan Xingjia aside.
Mu Qingyan stepped forward, speaking solemnly: “I didn’t kill Wang Yuanjing. My presence here tonight has deep reasons. As for what those reasons are, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you, so I won’t bother.”
He turned to Cai Zhao and said, “If you can explain clearly, do so. If not, just blame it on me. What’s the big deal?”
As he spoke, he swept his long sleeve to the side, flinging open a nearby window. Before Li Yuanmin and the others could pounce, he had already leaped out like a bat into the night, vanishing into the darkness.
“Such incredible lightness skill,” Fan Xingjia marveled, his gaze filled with admiration. Catching the glares of the Taichu Temple disciples, he quickly added, “But no matter how good his skills are, he’s still an evil cultist!”
One disciple shouted, “Then why were you with this evil cultist?!”
Fan Xingjia stammered in panic, “Who says I was with him? I was originally out buying roast chicken!”
“Then where’s the chicken?!” a younger disciple cried out.
Fan Xingjia burst into tears, “That damned cultist threw it away in the forest!” Wailing, he thought to himself how unfair this all was…
Li Yuanmin returned from his failed pursuit with his men, sword in hand. He pointed his blade at Cai Zhao, “Our innocent sect leader has been brutally murdered. What do you have to say for yourself, Miss Cai?” He had dropped the respectful title of “niece,” clearly now regarding Cai Zhao in the same light as Mu Qingyan.
Cai Zhao stepped forward boldly: “With the leaders of the five sects gathered at Taichu Temple, I will explain everything that happened tonight!”
In the brightly lit Zhengyuan Hall of Taichu Temple, the sudden rain had stopped.
Wang Yuanjing’s body had been brought in, laid out on a stretcher to one side of the hall.
Ning Xiaofeng cradled Guo Zikui’s urn of ashes, weeping: “I always suspected he was dead. Even as a child, he was like this – whenever he got into trouble, he’d hide instead of coming home. I waited and waited, always hoping that even if he didn’t show his face, he might be living peacefully somewhere in the countryside. To think, to think…”
Although Juexing Chanshi was her blood brother, their age difference was so great it was almost like they were from different generations. In her heart, it was Guo Zikui, who had led her in mischief everywhere, who felt like her true brother.
She pulled out a note from her dowry box and read it, weeping. “What’s this about having both a son and a daughter? About being content? As a child, you drove away half a dozen tutors. Now you’re barely literate, yet you’re trying to be poetic? Why don’t you muster up the strength to see me one last time?”
Tears fell heavily onto the glossy surface of the urn.
Song Shijun paced restlessly, stroking his beard. “Stop crying. Didn’t they say he passed peacefully? He’s done what he needed to do. We only live one life, and he lived his.”
Ning Xiaofeng angrily retorted, “Are you deaf? Didn’t you hear Zhaozao say Nie Hengcheng’s men tortured him beyond recognition? He struggled on his deathbed for over a decade before passing—you call that peaceful?”
Cai Pingchun sighed softly, gently comforting his wife.
Zhou Zhizhen held Guo Zigui’s sword, lost in thought. “If only Father had insisted back then…”
Yang Heying scoffed, “Surrendering to the demonic cult was foolish, but hiding for an extra decade was lucky. Otherwise, Elder Master Yin would’ve dealt with him according to sect rules long ago. We wouldn’t be having this discussion!”
Cai Pingchun abruptly stood and strode towards him.
Yang Heying instinctively backed away. “What are you doing?”
Cai Pingchun spoke gravely, “I’ve dabbled in the Demonic Sect’s Heart-Piercing Technique. I’m not sure if I’ve mastered it, so I’d like Sect Leader Yang to give me some pointers.”
Yang Heying declared, “Cai Pingchun, have you gone mad? If you want to spar, bring it on! I’m not afraid of you!”
“Sect Leader Yang, you boast so confidently. Surely you won’t even whimper under the Heart-Piercing Technique. Shall we begin?” Cai Pingchun reached out.
“Stop this at once!” Qi Yunke shouted, his voice resonating through the hall.
He lowered his voice, exasperated. “What are you doing? This isn’t the time for petty arguments. Elder Brother Yuanjing’s body is right here. As elders, do you want to make a spectacle for the juniors outside?”
Li Yuanmin bowed tearfully, “Thank you, Sect Leader Qi, for remembering my poor fellow disciple. I’m powerless, so I beg you to seek justice for him and punish the true culprit. Explain to all the Taichu Temple disciples outside!” He glared at Cai Zhao.
Cai Zhao glared back defiantly, “Master, don’t worry about Taichu Temple bullying us. I’ve done nothing wrong!”
“Enough!” Qi Yunke rubbed his temples.
“Yuanmin, don’t rush,” Song Shijun gently supported Li Yuanmin. “I know Yuanjing practically raised you, being both a brother and a father. Your bond was deep. But we’re keeping the other disciples out and everything confidential for Yuanjing’s sake.”
Li Yuanmin looked up, puzzled. “What do you mean, Sect Leader Song?”
Song Shijun wore a mysterious expression. “You heard what Zhaozao said earlier. What if Yuanjing did save—”
Li Yuanmin shot up. “Such slander! It’s all baseless accusations from that demonic cult’s witch. Who would believe it?”
Song Yuzi suddenly spoke up, “Guangtian Gate’s records mention a cavern with towering stone pillars and an eight-clawed beast statue on the west side of Youming Huang. It was built as a prison during Mu Song’s sudden death a century ago, specifically for enemy captives, separate from those arrested during the demonic cult’s internal strife. If Master Wang entered that place back then, he might have seen the imprisoned Hero Wu Yuanying…”
“Nonsense!” Li Yuanmin shouted. “How dare you slander my fellow disciple! Everyone knows he was kind and generous throughout his life. How can you… how can you…” He broke down crying.
“Calm down, Yuanmin,” Song Shijun quickly consoled him. “Yuzi may be blunt, but he’s looking out for Taichu Temple. The demonic cult’s Eight-Clawed Sky Prison isn’t just recorded by Guangtian Gate. Changchun Temple and Xuankong Monastery likely have records too. If we make a big fuss, even if people don’t speak up, they’ll harbor doubts about Yuanjing.”
“Peiqiong Manor has records too,” Zhou Zhizhen suddenly added. “A century ago, the demonic cult leader Mu Song died suddenly in his prime. His four sons fought for succession. The second son, Mu Yinong, won and purged dissenters. He built the Eight-Clawed Sky Prison. If Guo Zigui is right about getting separated from Master Wang near there, then… it’s hard to say.”
Li Yuanmin wept, his heart filled with sorrow and anger. “How… how can you all…”
Yang Heying, always at odds with the Cai family, interjected, “Could it be that the demonic cult is setting us up? They might have fabricated a fake Guo Zigui or Shi Tieqiao to tell a misleading story, first framing Master Wang, then causing us six sects to fight among ourselves. After all, the Cai girl has never met Shi Tieqiao or Guo Zigui, so it’d be easy to fool her.”
Song Shijun paused. “Well…”
“Well, what?” Ning Xiaofeng snapped. “This is Guo Zigui’s sword and his jade pendant he always wore. How could they be fake?” She pointed at the sword and took out a lustrous jade pendant from the dowry box.
Yang Heying sneered, “If Guo Zigui fell into the demonic cult’s hands, naturally his sword and pendant would be with them too.”
Ning Xiaofeng pulled out a farewell note from the jade box. “So Guo Zigui’s handwriting is fake too? Let me tell you, the flower seal at the end was our childhood play agreement. No one else knows about it!”
Yang Heying was at a loss for words.
“Enough arguing,” Zhou Zhizhen carefully placed Guo Zigui’s sword on the nearby table. “Let’s sort this out step by step.”
His usual gentle demeanor now carried an air of authority, silencing Song Shijun and Yang Heying.
“Zhaozao, come sit,” Zhou Zhizhen rested a hand on the tea table and spoke softly to the girl. “Whether your marriage to Yuqi happens or not isn’t the main issue. But Yuqi’s behavior was inappropriate and hurt you. I’ve sent him back for punishment…”
“No, please don’t,” Cai Zhao sat down carefully. “Yuqi and I were never a good match. Fortunately, he spoke up; otherwise, it would have been a bigger problem if we had married. He and Xinrou are truly meant for each other.”
“Let’s not discuss that now,” Zhou Zhizhen waved his hand. “Zhaozao, did you go with Mu Qingyan because you were upset?”
Here it comes, Cai Zhao thought, her internal alarms ringing.
“Partly,” she quickly replied. “He said he had news about Hero Shi, so I followed him. Truly, it was all to find Hero Shi and uncover the secrets of Lu Chengnan’s path.”
Zhou Zhizhen gave the girl a slightly reproachful look but said diplomatically, “I thought as much. Zhaozao, you’ve endured a lot for the greater good, trying to find the true culprit behind the Chang family massacre. It couldn’t have been easy.”
Cai Zhao lowered her head guiltily, knowing his questions were more formidable than Yang Heying’s.
“So, when Mu Qingyan heard Guo Zigui’s story, did he immediately suspect Wang Yuanjing might have encountered Wu Yuanying?” Zhou Zhizhen inquired.
“Not exactly,” Cai Zhao hesitated. “Actually, he felt something was off during the Northern Chen Ancestor’s memorial ceremony. The way Wu fell into Master Wang’s arms was strange. When a person without strength in their limbs falls into another’s arms, which part of their body goes first?”
Everyone in the hall was taken aback.
Surprisingly, Song Shijun spoke first. “Indeed, it’s not right. Falling face-first, the chest would lead; falling backward, the back goes first; from the side, the shoulder leads.”
Song, a frequent visitor to brothels, was all too familiar with various ways courtesans fell into his arms.
“But Wu’s head lunged into Master Wang’s embrace first—anyone who’s seen children fight knows this is an attacking posture,” Cai Zhao said uncertainly. “That’s how it seemed, though a pillar partially blocked my view.”
Those present at the ceremony began to recall the scene.
Song Yuzi, who had been closest, confirmed, “Yes, Wu definitely led with his head.”
He concentrated, recollecting, “Wu was blind then. He tilted his head to locate Master Wang’s voice, then lunged forward, raised his head, straightened his body, and opened his mouth. That’s when Master Wang forcefully embraced him, and Wu bit down on his sleeve, weeping…”
Guided by Song Yuzi’s recollection, everyone visualized the scene in Chaoyang Hall.
“Ah!” Yang Heying suddenly exclaimed, “Wu Yuanying wasn’t trying to fall into Wang Yuanjing’s arms, he was… he was…”
“He was attempting to bite Wang Yuanjing’s throat,” Zhou Zhizhen said slowly.
Li Yuanmin collapsed, his face filled with dismay.
“There’s more,” Cai Pingchun added. “Nephew Xing Jia, tell us what Wang Yuanjing said when Mu Qingyan confronted him.”
Fan Xingjia stuttered, “Master Wang said, ‘I didn’t mean to, I was just confused for a moment.'”
Cai Pingchun looked around, his gaze finally resting on Li Yuanmin. “Isn’t it clear now?”
“Clear what?” Li Yuanmin stood up, gritting his teeth. “You’re condemning my fellow disciple based on a few words?”
Yang Heying, eager to stir up trouble, chimed in, “Exactly! There are still many questions. Maybe there are secrets we don’t know. Or perhaps the Cai girl is making up stories to escape punishment for colluding with the demonic cult, and her master is covering for her…”
Zhou Zhizhen frowned. “What nonsense are you spouting?”
“Lao Yang, stop causing trouble,” Song Shijun pressed down on Yang Heying’s shoulder.
Li Yuanmin laughed bitterly, “Fine, fine. So the demonic cult leader is now the good guy seeking the truth, while my fellow disciple becomes the villain. You’re all… you’re just bullying Taichu Temple because we’re weak now!”
“Li Yuanmin, don’t be so damn ungrateful! You were in Chaoyang Hall that day too. You saw Wu Yuanying’s behavior. Are you blind in both eyes and heart?” Li Wenxun, who had been quiet in the corner, suddenly spoke up.
“Years ago, right after the Kaiyang and Yaoguang Elders died, their subordinates tried to assassinate your uncle Cangqiong. He was severely injured and stepped back from the demonic cult’s affairs to raise the two elders’ orphans. They didn’t have the means to deal with Wu Yuanying, who barely survived. Where else could they have imprisoned him but the Eight-Clawed Sky Prison?”
Li Wenxun’s voice was firm and sharp. “Not to mention Xingjia’s testimony that Wang Yuanjing admitted it himself! Why would Fan Xingjia, with nothing to gain, falsely accuse a sect leader? What benefit would it bring him or the Qingque Sect?”
Li Yuanmin stubbornly persisted, “Even if my fellow disciple made a mistake, it should be handled by Taichu Temple’s rules, not… not resulting in such a tragic death!”
Li Wenxun stood up coldly, “Do you really want to reveal everything and announce it to the world for disciplinary action? As they say, family disgrace should not be made public. First Qiu Yuanfeng, now Wang Yuanjing—isn’t that enough shame for Taichu Temple?”
Li Yuanmin was at a loss for words.
“Wang Yuanjing should be dead,” Li Wenxun said disdainfully. “Although the Six Northern Chen Sects operate independently, we share the same roots. Wu Yuanying might have been a bit showy, but he was undoubtedly righteous and cared deeply for our disciples. Wang Yuanjing’s actions were unconscionable and despicable. Even if he hadn’t died today, I would have dealt with him myself!”
He sat back down quietly. “Let’s report this as a ‘sudden death.’ No need to give the demonic cult something to laugh about.”
Known as the iron-blooded disciplinarian of the Qingque Sect, no one dared to interject.
Li Yuanmin stumbled back to his seat, his face ashen.
“Let’s set aside Wang Yuanjing’s matter for now,” Li Wenxun looked up. “Let’s discuss the true culprit. If there are still dregs among our six sects, we certainly can’t let them off.”