Chapter 161 - 160: Tribunal
The Apex of the Celestial Summit Palace was a sprawling, open-air amphitheater carved entirely from seamless white jade, suspended at the very highest point of the hovering fortress.
Above, there was no ceiling, only the vast expanse of the azure sky and the swirling sea of clouds. Below, terraced seating formed a perfect circle around a polished floor. The spiritual Qi here was so dense it formed a fine, glowing mist that clung to the ankles of the assembled crowd.
By the time the morning sun fully breached the horizon, every single entity of importance in the Zhao Province was present.
The terraced seats were packed with, sect masters, clan heads, elite elders, and high-ranking officials. The tension in the air was so thick it was physically suffocating. The whispers of the crowd merged into a low, anxious hum. Last night’s confrontation in the Grand Concourse had nearly spiraled, and today’s tribunal was the spark that would either extinguish the flame or ignite it further.
At the northern zenith of the amphitheater sat Lord Zhao Shenming. His expression was a mask of cold, unreadable stone. Beside him, radiating the oppressive weight of a Peak Nascent Soul monster, sat Patriarch Yun of the Pure Cloud Sect.
In the absolute center of the floor, kneeling with his hands bound by glowing, heavy suppression cuffs, was Bai Chen. The young man looked pale and exhausted, having spent the night in a lightless holding cell, but his jaw was set with defiant expression.
On the eastern terrace, Lin Yuan sat in a high-backed chair, Bai Qingyue’s wheelchair positioned safely at his side. He wore his pristine black and white Daoist robes, his posture relaxed, his deep purple eyes sweeping over the amphitheater.
"The tribunal will commence," Lord Zhao’s voice boomed, echoing like thunder across the open sky, instantly silencing the thousands of murmuring elites. "We are gathered to address the grave allegations levied against Bai Chen, guest of this household, by the Pure Cloud Sect. Let the aggrieved speak."
From the ranks of the Pure Cloud delegation, Mu Tianyang stepped forward.
He was dressed in his silver-threaded sect robes. His face was a portrait of aggrieved righteousness, perfectly calibrated to evoke sympathy and command respect. He walked onto the obsidian floor, bowing deeply to Lord Zhao and then to Patriarch Yun.
"Lords, Elders, and honored guests," Mu Tianyang began, his voice projecting flawlessly. "The Pure Cloud Sect does not seek conflict. We seek only justice. Last night, the absolute sanctity of our lineage was violated. The private chambers of Su Yin, a Saintess of our sect, were breached. Her personal artifact, the Frost-Moon Jade Hairpin, was stolen."
Mu Tianyang raised his hand. The delicate, beautifully carved hairpin hovered above his palm, rotating slowly in the morning light for all to see.
"This artifact was recovered directly from the person of Bai Chen," Mu Tianyang continued, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at the kneeling boy. "The evidence of his degenerate obsession is indisputable. But the Pure Cloud Sect does not execute judgment on physical evidence alone. We deal in absolute truth. Therefore, to lay bare the depths of this boy’s depravity, I call upon the victim herself to testify."
Mu Tianyang turned toward the grand archway leading to the waiting chambers.
"Saintess Su Yin," Mu Tianyang called out gently. "Step forward. You are safe here."
The crowd held its collective breath.
From the shadows of the archway, a figure emerged. It was Su Yin. She wore her modest pale blue-white robes, her hair bound simply. But her usual warm, pragmatic demeanor was entirely gone. She walked with her head bowed, her shoulders trembling slightly. She looked pale, traumatized, and deeply ashamed, clutching her sleeves with trembling fingers.
As she stepped onto the floor, a wave of sympathetic murmurs rippled through the crowd. To see a proud Saintess reduced to such a fragile state was a devastating blow to Bai Chen’s defense.
Bai Chen looked up, his eyes widening in pure, heartbreaking shock.
"Su Yin?" Bai Chen whispered, his voice cracking. "What... what are you doing? Tell them! Tell them I didn’t do it! Tell them I would never disrespect you!"
"Silence the accused!" Patriarch Yun barked, his aura flaring and pressing Bai Chen’s face toward the floor.
The Saintess flinched at the shout, shrinking away from Bai Chen as if his very presence sickened her. She stopped beside Mu Tianyang, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the floor.
"Junior Sister," Mu Tianyang said softly, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You do not need to fear him anymore. Tell the assembly. Is this your hairpin?"
"It is," Su Yin answered. Her voice was incredibly soft, carrying a slight, trembling echo that perfectly matched her usual tone, though laced with profound distress.
"And did this boy, Bai Chen, previously harass you with improper advances?" Mu Tianyang pressed, his tone gentle but insistent.
Su Yin hesitated for a fraction of a second, her hands wringing together. "He... he was aggressively forward. He made me incredibly uncomfortable. I tried to distance myself, but he... he wouldn’t listen."
A collective gasp echoed through the amphitheater. The nail was in the coffin. The victim had spoken. The theft was no longer just a property crime; it was the culmination of predatory obsession.
Bai Chen stopped struggling against the suppression cuffs. The fight completely drained out of him. He stared at the floor, his heart shattering into a thousand pieces. She actually believed it. Or worse, the sect had forced her to lie, and she had chosen her sect over the truth. The betrayal cut deeper than any blade.
Watching this unfold, Mu Tianyang kept his face arranged in a mask of solemn sorrow, but deep within his spiritual sea, he was laughing. It was a cold, manic, victorious laughter.
Fools, Mu Tianyang thought, his mind brimming with absolute arrogance. Every single one of you is a blind, pathetic fool.
The woman standing beside him, trembling and weeping for the crowd, was not Su Yin.
It was a male disciple of the Pure Cloud Sect, a devoted junior who owed his life to Mu Tianyang.
To pull off such an impossible deception in front of the entire elite, Mu Tianyang had utilized a supreme treasure he had acquired years ago from a perilous ruin. It was the Phantasm Veil Pendant, a priceless artifact originating from the legendary Barrier Realm. This was no ordinary illusion treasure. The pendant literally rewrote the fabric of reality around the wearer, flawlessly mimicking the physical appearance, the exact vocal chords, and, most terrifyingly, the precise Qi signature of the target.
Unless a cultivator had formed a true Primordial Spirit it was impossible to pierce the veil. Even Patriarch Yun and Lord Zhao Shenming were completely fooled.
As for the real Su Yin? Mu Tianyang’s genius lay in his meticulous preparation.
Long before dawn, while the palace was still asleep, Mu Tianyang had gone to her chambers. He had lied to her with a perfectly straight face, telling her that Patriarch Yun was utterly furious about the scandal and had ordered her to be immediately escorted back to the Pure Cloud Sect’s main campus to avoid the public spectacle of the tribunal. Being a dutiful, pragmatic disciple who trusted her Senior Brother implicitly, she had packed her bags without a word of protest.
She is currently sitting in a sealed carriage, halfway across the province, Mu Tianyang gloated internally, his eyes scanning the crowd. By the time she realizes the trial happened without her, Bai Chen’s Dao Heart will be shattered, his cultivation crippled, and Lin Yuan’s household will be a disgraced footnote in the history of this province. My alignment remains pure!
Mu Tianyang turned to face Lord Zhao and Patriarch Yun, bowing deeply.
"The truth is laid bare, Lords of the Province," Mu Tianyang declared, his voice ringing with finality. "The evidence is undeniable. The victim has testified. I demand the maximum sect discipline be carried out upon this degenerate immediately!"
"The Pure Cloud Sect concurs," Patriarch Yun rumbled, his white eyes flashing with lethal intent. "Cripple the boy’s meridians and throw him out of the capital."
"Wait."