Chapter 157 - 156
"This is a grave accusation, Senior Disciple Mu," Han Zilie announced loudly, ensuring the entire hall heard him. "But the honor of a Saintess is not a matter for debate. If Young Master Bai is truly innocent, as he claims, then he should have no objection to a simple search of his person. Let him empty his sash and his spatial ring. If he is clean, the Pure Cloud Sect owes Lord Zhao’s household an apology. If not..."
"I have nothing to hide!" Bai Chen snarled, his pride stung beyond reason. He threw his arms out wide, utterly confident in his own innocence. "Search me!"
Mu Tianyang did not wait for a second invitation. He flicked his wrist, sending a sharp, invisible pulse of Qi directly at Bai Chen.
The pulse struck the folds of Bai Chen’s silk sash.
Clink.
Something small, and metallic was forcefully dislodged from the inner lining of the fabric. It fell to the floor, the sound ringing out with terrifying clarity in the silent hall.
All eyes dropped to the floor.
Resting on the tiles was an exquisite, undeniably feminine artifact. It was a Frost-Moon Jade Hairpin, intricately carved to resemble a blooming lotus, radiating the faint, pure, and unmistakable Qi signature of Su Yin.
The silence that followed was absolute. It was the heavy, suffocating silence of a guillotine blade dropping.
Bai Chen stared down at the hairpin, all the color instantly draining from his face. His mouth opened, but no words came out. His mind raced frantically, trying to comprehend the impossibility of the object lying at his feet. How? When? Then, the memory of the clumsy servant violently colliding with him flashed through his mind.
"No..." Bai Chen whispered, terror and realization dawning simultaneously. "I didn’t... that was planted! A servant bumped into me—"
"Silence!" Mu Tianyang roared, his voice shaking the rafters. He pointed a trembling finger at Bai Chen. "You sicken me! To harbor such a vile, unrequited obsession that you would violate a Saintess’s private sanctuary to steal a token of her essence! You are not just a thief; you are a degenerate! You thought that because Lord Zhao favors your household, you could reach for the sky without consequence?"
The crowd immediately turned on Bai Chen. The whispers morphed into open sneers of disgust. Everyone, eager to align themselves with the powerful Pure Cloud Sect and distance themselves from a scandal, murmured their absolute condemnation.
"Disgusting."
"A peasant in silk is still a peasant."
"Is this the face of the Lin household?"
"To insult the Pure Cloud Sect so openly..."
Han Zilie stood in the crowd, hiding a smile behind his wine cup. The trap had closed flawlessly. Bai Chen was socially executed, and Lin Yuan’s household was completely disgraced.
"The theft of a Saintess’s personal artifact carries a mandatory sentence within our sect," Mu Tianyang declared, his aura condensing into a lethal, razor-sharp blade of spiritual pressure. He raised his hand, gathering a swirling vortex of Nascent Soul Qi in his palm. "As her Senior Brother, I have the authority to deliver the discipline. I will shatter your Dao Heart and cripple your cultivation, boy. It is the only appropriate punishment for insulting the Pure Cloud Sect!"
Mu Tianyang stepped forward to deliver the crippling blow.
He did not take a second step.
Wooooom!
The atmosphere in the Grand Concourse did not merely turn cold. It seemed to freeze altogether. The spiritual Qi filling the hall instantly became heavy, as though an invisible force had pressed down upon everything.
Mu Tianyang’s raised hand froze in midair. The Qi gathering in his palm vanished instantly. His eyes widened as an overwhelming pressure descended upon him, forcing his knees to buckle slightly.
Lin Yuan slowly rose from his seat at the table.
He did not shout or rush forward. He simply stepped out from behind Bai Qingyue’s wheelchair, his robes moving gently with each step. His deep purple eyes held no anger, only a cold, terrifying calm that made the entire hall fall silent.
"You will not touch him," Lin Yuan said. His voice was soft, barely above a whisper, yet it resonated directly within the spiritual sea of every single cultivator in the hall, bypassing their eardrums entirely.
Mu Tianyang gritted his teeth, attempting to channel his middle Nascent Soul might to break the suppression. It was like a gnat attempting to lift a mountain. He was entirely paralyzed.
"Lord Lin!" one of the Pure Cloud Dao Protectors shouted, stepping forward bravely, though his legs trembled under the Spirit Severing pressure. "Your relative was caught red-handed with stolen property! The evidence is indisputable! Do you intend to shield a degenerate and declare war on the Pure Cloud Sect?"
Lin Yuan tilted his head, looking at the Dao Protector with a gaze that made the old man’s soul shrivel.
"Evidence," Lin Yuan repeated, the word tasting like ash in his mouth. He walked slowly toward the center of the confrontation, his boots making no sound on the tiles.
He stopped in front of Mu Tianyang, looking down at the paralyzed Senior Disciple.
"Let us examine this indisputable evidence, shall we?" Lin Yuan said, his tone conversational, yet dripping with lethal venom. He raised his hand, pointing a single finger toward the crowd.
"A Foundation Establishment boy," Lin Yuan said, his voice carrying through the dead silence, "supposedly bypassed the Pure Cloud Sect’s wards at the eastern guest pavilion, slipped past the palace’s elite patrols, broke into a Saintess’s private chambers, and stole a hairpin. And after going through all that trouble, instead of hiding such an incriminating and easily traceable artifact in his spatial ring, he simply tucked it into the outer fold of his sash and walked straight into a crowded gathering?"
Lin Yuan let the absolute absurdity of the logic hang in the air.
The murmurs in the crowd instantly ceased. Several of the more astute sect masters blinked, the fabricated narrative instantly crumbling under the weight of basic common sense.
"Only a complete imbecile would believe such a chain of events," Lin Yuan continued, his eyes shifting from Mu Tianyang to the periphery of the crowd, locking directly onto Han Zilie. "Or a desperate, humiliated someone looking for a proxy to fight his battles."
Han Zilie’s face went entirely white. He tried to step back, but the air around him solidified, trapping him in place.
Lin Yuan did not wait for Han Zilie to deny it. He channeled his Spirit Severing Qi until the entire Grand Concourse trembled under the pressure. The spiritual Qi in the hall twisted around his body, and for a moment, it seemed as though he was about to tear the truth directly from Han Zilie’s soul.
"Enough!"
A deep voice suddenly thundered from the entrance.
The heavy doors of the Grand Concourse opened, and two figures stepped inside.
The first was Lord Zhao Shenming.
His expression was grim, and the moment he entered, his gaze swept across the chaotic scene. His eyes briefly settled on the hairpin lying on the floor, then moved to the restrained Mu Tianyang, before finally landing on Han Zilie.
Beside him walked an old man dressed in simple gray robes.
The elder looked ordinary at first glance. His hair was completely white, and his face was covered in wrinkles. Yet the moment he stepped into the hall, several of the older cultivators immediately stiffened.
He was...
Please support me with golden tickets, I highly appreciate every effort