Wang Yuanjing sat alone in his room, carefully arranging incense.
No matter how loud the rain outside, his hands remained steady, his movements more delicate and gentle than a maiden applying makeup before a mirror. His breath was long and light, not disturbing even a speck of incense powder.
This was the basic upbringing of a noble disciple.
After finishing the incense, Wang Yuanjing stood up to pour himself a cup of tea. The house was empty, with no servants inside or out.
He preferred tranquility—always had, since childhood. So much so that later, he couldn’t remember whether he truly loved quiet or the status and glory it brought him.
In a large, flourishing family, having a quiet and elegant courtyard to oneself was a sign of the family’s recognition and esteem. His wet nurse had often encouraged him with these words whenever she complained about the crowded living conditions.
Thus, after joining the Grand Beginning Temple, Wang Yuanjing always chose the most secluded places for his residence whenever possible.
For this, the lively Wu Yuanying often teased him for living like a little monk...
Suddenly, Wang Yuanjing felt a sharp pain in his hand. Looking down, he saw the teacup had cracked, leaving a thin trail of blood on his pale palm.
He placed the broken shards neatly on the table and went to the inner chamber to fetch a jar of wound medicine.
A minor injury like this would have been nothing to Wu Yuanying—perhaps just a quick lick to stop the bleeding. But Wang Yuanjing cared. His body, hair, and skin were gifts from his parents—how could he treat them carelessly? Yet it was precisely this attitude that, despite his cultivation surpassing that of his junior brother Qiu Yuanfeng, he always fell short in actual combat.
Their master, Cang Huanzhi, had sighed more than once, worried that his gentle disciple would suffer in the future. After all, in the Martial World, most lived by the blade. When paths crossed, only the brave survived.
Ironically, Wang Yuanjing ended up being the last survivor among his three sworn brothers.
Lost in thought, he stepped out of the inner chamber—only to freeze in shock.
A handsome young man in black sat quietly in the chair he had just vacated, smiling at him.
The new leader of the Demonic Cult—Mu Qingyan!
Wang Yuanjing’s pupils constricted. Instinctively, he reached for the sword on the wall.
With a flick of his left hand, Mu Qingyan sent an empty teacup flying straight at him, forcing Wang Yuanjing to dodge.
"Head Wang, please remain calm," Mu Qingyan said with a smile. "If I intended to ambush you, I wouldn’t be sitting here waiting. To be frank, I have some questions I’d like to ask you."
In the long history of confrontation between the Big Dipper Six Sects and the Demonic Cult, it was rare for either side to speak peacefully—most encounters were life-and-death struggles.
Suppressing his unease, Wang Yuanjing replied politely, "Young Master Mu is accomplished beyond his years. Yuanjing dares not presume to be ‘asked’ anything."
Unbeknownst to him, two eavesdroppers lurked outside beneath the eaves. Mu Qingyan, however, had no patience for pleasantries. "It’s simple. Who is the mastermind behind you?"
—The summer rains were heavy, and the Grand Beginning Temple was filled with lush vegetation and bamboo groves. The relentless downpour on grass and bamboo, along with the chorus of frogs and insects, masked the breathing of Cai Zhao and Fan Xingjia—especially since Wang Yuanjing’s own mind was unsettled.
Wang Yuanjing felt as if incense ash had been flung into his face. He didn’t know how to react. "...Yuanjing doesn’t understand Young Master Mu’s meaning."
"Don’t understand? Then let me be clearer." Mu Qingyan leaned forward. "Who ordered you to investigate the defensive formations of the Chang Family Fort?"
Wang Yuanjing spun toward the sword on the wall, charging so recklessly that he left his back completely exposed.Hiding under the eaves, Cai Zhao witnessed the scene and found herself believing Mu Qingyan's deductions even more. She nudged Fan Xingjia beside her with her eyes. Fan Xingjia broke out in a cold sweat—he was sharp enough to recognize that this was indeed the expected reaction when someone was falsely accused with baseless claims.
In the brief moment the junior martial siblings exchanged glances, the two inside the room had already exchanged seven or eight fierce blows.
Wang Yuanjing still couldn't draw his sword. Instead, he took a palm strike to his left shoulder and staggered back several steps before steadying himself. Yet his opponent didn't seize the opportunity to finish him off.
His chest heaving with rage, he shouted, "Mu, what exactly do you want?! Though I'm no match for you, I won't cower before you! Even if you kill me today, don't think you can tarnish the name of our Grand Beginning Temple!"
"Still stubborn even when cornered? Fine, let's speak plainly." Mu Qingyan stood with his hands behind his back. "I was there the night the Chang Family Fort was massacred. It was indeed Nie Zhe's Heavenly Dipper Earthly Fiend Camp who carried out the slaughter, but someone else led them undetected up to the fort."
"The Chang Family Fort's labyrinth formation requires its core to be replaced every four years. Each time the core's position changes, all previous paths become void. This means the guide must have deciphered the Chang Family's labyrinth within those four years. Yet since Great Hero Cai Pingshu passed away three years ago, Great Hero Chang hardly ever left his home. All food and supplies were self-sufficient from the mountain. So how exactly did the guide decipher the labyrinth?"
Wang Yuanjing sneered, "Could it have been you? You spent a year recuperating at the Chang Family Fort—plenty of time to study any formation."
Mu Qingyan smiled. "Over a year ago, when I was injured and escaped the Nether Bamboo Path, I didn't sneak into the Chang Family Fort on my own. Instead, I went to a secret location agreed upon by my father and Great Hero Chang, sent out a signal, and waited for him to bring me up the mountain. I was unconscious during the ascent, so I couldn't possibly have learned the labyrinth's layout."
Wang Yuanjing retorted, "Great Hero Chang is dead now. It's all just your word against nothing."
Mu Qingyan's smile deepened. "I know very well I'm not the 'guide.' And Head Wang, you know it too. There are only the two of us here—no use denying it."
Wang Yuanjing erupted in fury. "Deny what? I've never set foot in the Chang Family Fort! How could I have led the Demonic Cult there?!"
"You didn't need to go up the mountain to guide them." Mu Qingyan's voice was calm. "Because although Great Hero Chang rarely left home in the three years after Heroine Cai's death, over three years ago—a few months before her passing—he did bring one outsider into the fort: Luo Yuanrong!"
Wang Yuanjing's expression froze, his face draining of color.
"At the memorial ceremony for the North Star Ancestor, Luo Yuanrong stated clearly that over three years ago, she was severely injured during another argument with Qiu Yuanfeng over Wu Yuanying's whereabouts, and that Great Hero Chang saved her. Yet Great Hero Chang had only a passing acquaintance with the Grand Beginning Temple—what were the odds he'd just happen to pass by and rescue Luo Yuanrong?"
Mu Qingyan watched the other man's reaction closely. "It must have been you, Head Wang, who delivered the injured Luo Yuanrong to the foot of Wu'an Mountain. All we need to do is ask your disciples later to confirm who took the injured Luo Yuanrong away back then."
Wang Yuanjing's face turned deathly pale.Mu Qingyan continued, "Fallen Blossom Valley has a peculiar drug called 'Tracking Scent.' Anyone who consumes it and then exerts their internal energy will emit a unique odor for two hours, which hunting dogs can trace. Later, Zhao Zhao told me that your Grand Beginning Temple is actually the most skilled in medicine and alchemy among the Big Dipper Six Sects. If Madam Ning could coincidentally obtain 'Tracking Scent,' then Grand Beginning Temple should be able to as well."
"You gave Luo Yuanrong, who was injured, something like 'Tracking Scent,' then pretended to be reluctant before bringing him to Wu'an City. Great Hero Chang, ever chivalrous, took Luo Yuanrong up the mountain to recuperate—I even suspect the dispute between Luo Yuanrong and Qiu Yuanfeng was instigated by you in secret!"
Wang Yuanjing maintained a composed demeanor, forcing a smile. "Baseless accusations! If I had figured out the Chang family's maze formation over three years ago, why would I wait until now to slaughter them?"
"Because there was a wide stream encircling the fortress," Mu Qingyan said slowly. "Once Fallen Blossom Valley's Tracking Scent crosses water, hunting dogs can still detect it. I imagine the same applies to the medicinal scent on Luo Yuanrong."
"During Luo Yuanrong's injury, you only managed to locate the general position of the Chang family fortress upstream of that stream. To ensure a single, decisive strike—leaving no survivors—the mastermind behind this didn't act rashly. Instead, they sent people disguised as woodcutters and travelers to search covertly. After three years of effort, the mastermind finally mapped out the fortress's layout and location, then led the bandits up the mountain."
Mu Qingyan fixed his gaze on the middle-aged man before him. "Am I wrong, Head Wang?"
Wang Yuanjing suddenly burst into laughter, nearly choking on his own mirth. "Hahaha, this is the funniest joke in the world! Me, killing Chang Hao? Me, slaughtering the entire Chang family? Hahaha! I had no grudge against them. Go ahead and spread this nonsense—see how many will believe the ravings of a Demonic Cult fiend like you!"
Outside the window, Fan Xingjia tilted his head and silently mouthed, "He's not wrong."
Cai Zhao elbowed him sharply and mimed back, "Shut up and listen properly."
"You had no reason to kill Great Hero Chang yourself," Mu Qingyan shook his head. "This wasn't your idea—it was the mastermind's coercion."
Wang Yuanjing laughed even harder, bending over—a breach of decorum for someone usually so refined. "Coercion? Hahahaha! I come from a noble orthodox sect, upright and honorable. What in the world could possibly coerce me?!"
"Wu Yuanying."
The laughter died instantly. Wang Yuanjing froze like a chicken with its neck wrung, terror flashing across his face as if he were seeing Wu Yuanying's mutilated form again—limbs severed, nose, tongue, and eyes gouged out.
He stammered, "N-no... I wasn't at Cauldron Peak Mountain. It wasn't me who got our senior brother captured—it was Qiu Yuanfeng, it was him..."
Mu Qingyan said calmly, "I'm not talking about the battle at Cauldron Peak Mountain, but the later assault on the Nether Bamboo Path by the six sects."
A bolt of lightning split the sky, followed by a deafening thunderclap. The drizzle turned into a downpour, crashing down like a waterfall.
The noise masked Cai Zhao and Fan Xingjia's movements completely.
Wang Yuanjing staggered back several steps until his back hit the wall, panic-stricken. "Y-you... you're bluffing!"
Mu Qingyan clasped his hands behind his back and advanced. "The maze formation changes every four years. For the next three years, almost no outsiders entered the Chang family fortress—even suppliers had to undergo multiple checks. The sole exception was Luo Yuanrong, who stayed there for half a month to recover from his injuries.""Yet no matter how much I pondered, I couldn't comprehend why the reclusive Head Wang would harm the Chang family. Until an old friend's words awakened me—Head Wang, someone has leverage over you."
Wang Yuanjing trembled against the wall, his face drained of color.
Mu Qingyan softened his tone, speaking with deliberate gentleness: "That year when Yin Dai ordered the six sects' elites to attack the Nether Bamboo Path, your Grand Beginning Temple was assigned to guard the rear. Before long, everyone became scattered. You too lost your way in a mountain hollow filled with towering stone pillars, surrounded by ferocious beast statues, and in your confusion, you stumbled into one of the caves..."
Outside, the wind and rain howled, as if Wang Yuanjing had returned to that nightmare of a night.
The shadows of towering stone pillars loomed everywhere, with stone walls blocking the view at every turn, and caves—each entrance guarded by a grotesque stone statue—as though he'd descended into hell itself.
Panicked and terrified, he fled blindly.
"Head Wang, those beast statues at each cave entrance—they're Bi'an," Mu Qingyan's voice continued. "The Eight-Clawed Bi'an, capable of reaching heaven and earth, leaving nowhere to hide... Yes, that was one of our sect's outer prisons. Each cave was fitted with iron bars and cells, used to detain enemies we weren't yet sure how to handle."
"That night, to resist the six sects' assault, most of the jailers were dispatched by Lu Chengnan, leaving the Eight-Claw Sky Prison unguarded. You had better luck than Guo Gui—he took a wrong turn and was captured by remaining cult members, while you, Head Wang, passed through unimpeded."
"Stumbling through the pitch-black cave, you saw iron cells on either side—some empty, others holding rotting corpses. As you went deeper, you suddenly heard the violent clanking of iron chains. Hurrying toward the sound, you peered through the narrow iron-barred window of a cell door and saw... a familiar face. Someone you all believed long dead..."
"Stop! Don't say it!" Wang Yuanjing screamed, his voice tearing from his throat.
Outside the window, Fan Xingjia seemed to guess what was coming, turning to Cai Zhao with eyes full of dread and horror.
Cai Zhao patted his shoulder reassuringly.
"It was Wu Yuanying."
Mu Qingyan's tone was flat. "I've reviewed the records. Wu Yuanying was tortured into a 'human swine' during Nie Zhe's chaotic reign, when idle vermin had their fun. Under Nie Hengcheng's rule, he should have been unharmed."
Wang Yuanjing's defenses crumbled instantly. He collapsed to the floor, trembling uncontrollably, gripped by the terror of exposure.
"Seeing your miraculously alive senior brother must have delighted you, Head Wang. Surely you rushed to free him?" Mu Qingyan's voice was slow, gentle, yet laced with venom. "Ah, but wait. At North Star Ancestor's memorial months ago, everyone saw Wu Yuanying—after over a decade of torment, barely human anymore."
"The Eight-Claw Sky Prison used ordinary iron chains. Wu Yuanying, severely injured with sealed acupoints, couldn't break free. But you, Head Wang—unharmed, sword in hand—could have saved him easily."
"Head Wang, why didn't you save Wu Yuanying that day?"
Mu Qingyan's expression darkened abruptly: "Because you wanted to become Grand Beginning Temple's leader."
Wang Yuanjing curled into a ball in the corner, his face twisted in agony.
In that damp, shadowy cave prison, when he first saw Wu Yuanying—bound in chains, gagged—he had been overjoyed. But in the next instant, a wicked thought seized him, like a Demon whispering in his ear—"It was clearly you who joined the Grand Beginning Temple first, yet when it came time for the formal apprenticeship, he became the senior brother."
'You've been suppressed by him for half your life, and you still want to continue being suppressed?'
'With the master dead and the uncle-master crippled, and your junior brother Qiu Yuanfeng's seniority and cultivation both on par with yours, as long as he's around, you're the certain next head of the sect!'
'Every man for himself, and the devil take the hindmost.'
'Don't you still want to glorify your ancestors, return home in splendor, and make those clansmen who looked down on you see you in a new light?!'
"You don't need to do anything, just quietly walk away..."
As he stepped back, moving further from the iron door, the wild joy in Wu Yuanying's eyes gradually faded, replaced by disappointment and anger.
Wang Yuanjing thought, the senior brother must have figured it out.
Amid the maddening, despairing clang of iron chains, he fled the cave without looking back, abandoning the senior brother who had treated him like a blood brother since childhood, abandoning his own conscience, and finally found his way out.
Outside the window, Fan Xingjia was petrified by this horrifying tale, his entire body cold and stiff as a wooden statue.
Cai Zhao's face was taut, silently resolving that even if Mu Qingyan extracted the mastermind's name, she would still kill Wang Yuanjing—this despicable wretch—to uphold heavenly justice.
"What a pity..." Mu Qingyan deliberately mocked, "By the time you returned to the Grand Beginning Temple, your uncle-master and junior brother had already colluded. Cangqiong secretly transferred most of his cultivation to Qiu Yuanfeng. In the subsequent sect-head competition, Qiu Yuanfeng beat you like a dog, thus snatching the position from you. Not only did you gain nothing, but you were also caught with a handle—truly a fitting reward, haha, hahahaha!"
Wang Yuanjing panicked and defended himself, "I—I didn't mean to, I was just confused for a moment..."
"Save your explanations. I have no interest in judging the character of North Star disciples." Mu Qingyan waved a hand. "Great Hero Chang once showed me kindness, and I must avenge the Chang family! The one who blackmailed you has been colluding with Nie Zhe for years—he must have his own faction. You've been wary and guarded against Qiu Yuanfeng in the Grand Beginning Temple for over a decade, so clearly, it's you."
"Now, tell me who that person is. I'll kill him to avenge the Chang family, and you'll be rid of someone holding leverage over you. Isn't that a win-win?"
Wang Yuanjing's deathly pale face showed a glimmer of hope. "R-really?!"
"Nonsense! What connection do I have with Wu Yuanying? Why would I bother with the petty squabbles of your Grand Beginning Temple?" Mu Qingyan helped Wang Yuanjing up slowly, coaxing him word by word. "Name that person, Head Wang, and your troubles..."
"Alright, alright, that person is... Ah!"
Wang Yuanjing's eyes suddenly bulged, his face froze, and a trickle of blood seeped from the corner of his mouth.
Mu Qingyan looked down—a sharp sword tip had emerged from Wang Yuanjing's chest. The blade had pierced through the wall and impaled him.
"Someone's outside!" he roared.
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