"Hahahaha, just as I wished! Heaven helps me indeed, heaven helps me indeed!"
A triumphant burst of laughter echoed from the side hall of Grand Beginning Temple. Yang Heying clutched a slip of paper, shaking with mirth as if afflicted by chills. "Paradise Palace was thrown into chaos overnight—Hu Fengge's corpse was dumped in a mass grave, Mu Clan's followers scattered in all directions, and Elder Tianshu Lu Fengchun has seized power! Hahahaha, this is perfect! Now it doesn't matter how we deal with Mu Qingyan!"
Song Shijun curled his lips: "My old man always said Lu Fengchun was the least deserving among the Seven Stars Elders. Kaiyang, Yaoguang, and Tianxuan were fiercely loyal to Nie Hengcheng, brave and fearless; Tianquan remained devoted to the Mu Clan without regret; Yuheng served the Demonic Cult faithfully, supporting whoever could revive it; Tianji might have failed, but he was still a formidable figure for his time. Only this Elder Tianshu Lu Fengchun skulks in the shadows, waiting to strike when others are vulnerable. Hmph, no wonder he's nicknamed the Old Turtle!"
Ning Feng said coldly, "This news spread unusually fast. Before we could even investigate, Lu Fengchun eagerly delivered it to our doorstep, as if no one could see through his schemes!"
Cai Pingchun remarked, "He wants to borrow our blades for his killing—hoping we'll swiftly dispose of Mu Qingyan so his position is secure."
Zhou Zhizhen turned his head: "Such a drastic upheaval in just a few days—is the information reliable?"
Qi Yunke replied, "We've already sent carrier pigeons to confirm with fellow martial artists around the Vast Sea Mountains. It's true."
Yang Heying was overjoyed, pacing excitedly around the side hall: "Now whether Mu Qingyan lives or dies is entirely up to us, with no fear of retaliation. This is a golden opportunity we mustn't waste!"
Zhou Zhizhen said icily, "Brother Yang, you're mistaken. We're dealing with Mu Qingyan to avenge Ping Shu. Whether the Demonic Cult is strong or weak has no bearing on our resolve to punish its leader."
Yang Heying was taken aback. Ever since opening that Purple Wood Box, the usually gentle and conciliatory Zhou Zhizhen had become rigid and unyielding, speaking with frost in every word. Yang inwardly cursed Zhou as a spineless fool, assuming his cold demeanor stemmed from bitterness over Cai Pingshu's betrayal, though he dared not provoke him openly.
Qi Yunke said, "Brother Zhou is right. Our Big Dipper Six Sects act based on right and wrong, not power or profit. What's right must be done even through fire and blades; what's wrong must never be pursued, no matter the gain."
Force-fed this bowl of moral preaching, Yang Heying flushed darkly. "Then how do we deal with Mu Qingyan? You're the sect leader—you decide!"
Qi Yunke glanced around and cleared his throat. "After careful consideration—"
"Whose 'consideration'? My brother Song hasn't said a word!" Yang Heying interrupted loudly.
Song Shijun tugged his sleeve. "Stop interrupting. Let him finish."
Qi Yunke's aged face reddened slightly as he continued, "While the sins of the father may pass to the son, Mu Zhengyang—who brought ruin upon our sworn brothers and Sister Pingshu—was only Mu Qingyan's uncle. As righteous sects, we cannot indiscriminately punish by association. Moreover, during the Nie Clan's rule, Mu Qingyan committed no atrocities against the Martial World. Therefore, executing him would be excessive."
"What? What?" Yang Heying exclaimed. "Are we just letting him go scot-free?"
"Let him finish!" Song Shijun tugged his sleeve again.Qi Yunke continued, "However, our North Star Sect has been mortal enemies with the Demonic Cult for two hundred years. Even if Mu Qingyan currently shows no evil deeds, when he revives the Demonic Cult in the future, he will inevitably act. To simply let him go would betray our ancestors above and the righteous martial world below..."
"What exactly do you propose?" This time even Song Shijun couldn't hold back.
Zhou Zhizhen enunciated each word clearly, "Tomorrow at the main hall, the six sects will hold a joint trial. After declaring our intentions to heaven, earth, and ancestors, we will cripple Mu Qingyan's Core Essence meridians and all his cultivation, then imprison him under strict surveillance."
Song Shijun felt a chill in his heart. Recalling Mu Qingyan's proud and heroic demeanor that once looked down upon the world, he thought it would be better to kill him outright than reduce him to a cripple.
Yang Heying cheered, "Excellent, truly excellent! This shows both benevolence and serves as a warning to the Demonic Cult! However, since it's a joint trial by six sects, we should take turns imprisoning Mu Qingyan—that would be fair!"
Cai Pingchun gave him a sidelong glance and remarked coolly, "The Yang Clan is so eager—are you hoping to interrogate Mu Qingyan about something? The Mu family's two-century accumulation of private treasures, and the ancient texts in the Nine Provinces Treasure Scroll Pavilion that everyone covets, are the stuff of martial artists' dreams."
Song Shijun snapped to attention and exclaimed, "Old Yang, is that really your intention?"
Yang Heying stiffened his neck. "What's wrong with righteous sects taking what belongs to the Demonic Cult? With these resources, we might grow strong enough to eradicate them once and for all!"
"How noble and righteous," Ning Feng sneered.
Yang Heying jumped up. "Who are you calling hypocritical—"
"Enough!" Zhou Zhizhen barked. "Where Mu Qingyan is imprisoned can be decided later. Tomorrow, we carry out the punishment first!"
Qi Yunke nodded. "So be it."
"...That's how things stand." Fan Xingjia recounted the situation outside while stealing glances at Cai Zhao across from him. "Early tomorrow morning, Master and the others will carry out the punishment on the Demonic Cult leader."
The window was wide open, and the blazing noon sunlight poured into the room, illuminating the girl's face, pale to the point of translucency. Fan Xingjia couldn't help but recall the first time he saw her—a rosy-cheeked, exquisitely dressed girl who loved to laugh, effortlessly putting Qi Lingbo in her place with a few words, stunning the guests with a single move, all while critiquing the sect chef's skills.
Back then, she was carefree, joyful, and charming, even the ornaments on her skirt delicate and lovely.
Now, her face was drawn, her figure gaunt, her lips devoid of color, like a flower at the end of its bloom, withered beyond saving. Only her large, dark eyes remained clear and profound.
Afraid she might entertain reckless thoughts, Fan Xingjia quickly added, "The dungeon is heavily guarded now—not even a mosquito could slip through. Zhao Zhao, don't get any foolish ideas. The Demonic Cult is in chaos too; no one will come to help you rescue him."
He took a bamboo tube from his pocket and placed it on the table. "Look, this is the Soul Confusion Needle Li Shibo asked me to prepare—a whole tube of it. Li Shibo said if you dare act recklessly, we're to strike your major acupoints with it, enough to keep you unconscious until autumn."
The girl remained silent, head bowed. The quiet stretched so long Fan Xingjia thought she wouldn't respond.
Then, she suddenly looked up and pleaded softly, "Senior Brother, could you speak to Li Shibo for me? I just want to see him once. With all of you watching, I couldn't possibly rescue him. I just want to see him... before the punishment."Fan Xingjia felt a pang of sorrow in his heart and turned to plead with Li Wenxun, "Uncle-Master, Zhao Zhao is still one of our own. Let them meet once. Tomorrow the execution will take place, and by then Mu Qingyan will be a cripple, surely harboring deep hatred for Zhao Zhao. What good words could he possibly say then? Now that the greater situation is settled, let’s fulfill Zhao Zhao’s wish."
Li Wenxun remained silent for a moment before finally agreeing. However, he personally "escorted" Cai Zhao into the Grand Beginning Temple’s dungeon and stationed himself at the entrance.
Song Yuzhi, who was guarding the iron cell door with his sword, was startled upon seeing Cai Zhao: "Zhao Zhao, you... you’ve grown so thin."
Cai Zhao smiled faintly, her expression like withered petals at the end of autumn or a sunset fading into oblivion. "Thank you, Senior Brother, for taking care of him these days and ensuring he wasn’t humiliated. Senior Brother, let me speak with him alone for a moment."
Song Yuzhi felt a deep sadness and nodded silently before leading the four Vast Heaven Gate disciples stationed outside away.
Cai Zhao slowly approached the iron bars, pressing her body against them and reaching her hands through the gaps. "Mu Qingyan..."
From the depths of the iron cell came the scattered clanking of chains, like an elderly man shuffling forward. When their hands met, Cai Zhao felt her fingers nearly crushed by the force. A heavy stench of blood and rotting flesh assaulted her senses.
By the dim light of the oil lamp, Cai Zhao eagerly studied the figure before her.
In just a few days, he had become so gaunt he seemed nothing but a skeleton, his cheeks hollow and his complexion deathly pale. His face, neck, body, hands, and feet—everywhere bore the scars of the explosion from the trap. Deep wounds split open his flesh, revealing glimpses of bone, while shallow ones left long streaks of dried blood.
Cai Zhao pressed her palm against his chest. What had once been firm, fair, and beautiful skin was now marred with countless wounds, the torn flesh already beginning to fester. "...Was it black powder?" she heard her own voice tremble.
"Yes." Mu Qingyan laughed, his pallid face indifferent. "You North Star disciples have no idea how to mix black powder, yet somehow you got your hands on Storm of Thunder and replaced the poisoned needles with shards of blades."
Her heart ached as if twisted. "It must have been from my family. After Great-Uncle killed the Celestial Pivot Elder, he confiscated several Storm of Thunder devices, which were kept in Fallen Blossom Valley."
Mu Qingyan smirked. "Fathers- and mothers-in-law have always disliked their sons-in-law. I’ve lured you away time and again, inciting you to mischief. This suffering is well-deserved."
Cai Zhao traced a deep wound below his collarbone, her fingertips coated in dark red, rotting flesh. Choking back tears, she asked, "Didn’t Third Senior Brother bring you any medicine? Why haven’t you treated your wounds?"
Mu Qingyan scoffed lightly. "I dare not trust anything your master and his people send me." His tone softened. "Zhao Zhao, it wasn’t my father who harmed your aunt. It was—"
"I know, I know all of it." Cai Zhao forced a smile. "I had a vague suspicion—it must have been someone who looked very much like your father. I just never imagined he had a twin."
"Tomorrow, tomorrow..." Cai Zhao felt as though her throat were blocked. "Tomorrow they will—"
"I know. Song Yuzhi has already told me." Mu Qingyan’s voice was cold. "They think crippling my Core Essence will be their great victory. I’m not afraid of them. Even if my cultivation is destroyed, I can still plunge the world into chaos!" His words brimmed with arrogant fury.He lifted the girl's face, "I'm not afraid, Zhao Zhao, don't be afraid either. Forget the schemes of those old fools, let me look at you properly..."
The oil lamp's light fell on the girl's delicate face, and he frowned. "Song Yuzhi was right, you've gotten so thin."
Cai Zhao held back her tears and shook her head, her hand touching his face and forehead, feeling the burning heat. "You have a fever..."
Mu Qingyan hugged the girl through the iron bars. "It's nothing. When I was locked in the dark room as a child, I also had fevers. No one cared, but I still pulled through. Now is no different."
Cai Zhao's heart ached, her voice choked with emotion.
At that moment, Li Wenxun's cold, hard voice came from the doorway. "Finished talking? Time to go."
Cai Zhao raised her voice, "Li Shibo, just a few more words." She turned back, "There are some things I've actually wanted to say for a long time."
"You've always been afraid of the dark, yet at night, you refuse to leave even a single lamp on, forcing yourself to sleep in complete darkness. Even if you can't sleep all night, even if you have to rest during the day, you won't admit weakness."
"During our journey to Snow Ridge, I always placed a Night-Shining Pearl at night to guard against Duan Jiuxiu and his men. Those nights, you slept exceptionally well, but you would never admit it."
Mu Qingyan was stunned.
"You're also afraid of fire—Cheng Bo said the dark room once caught fire and nearly burned you," the girl continued. "But the more you fear fire, the more you force yourself to confront it. You could blow out the candle, but you insist on pinching the wick with your fingers. Every time we make a campfire, you have to strike the flint yourself."
Mu Qingyan trembled slightly, the nightmares from before he was five resurfacing in his mind.
A frail young child, forced to cower in a corner by billowing black smoke and flames, the door still firmly locked with an Iron Chain. No matter how much he screamed, even until his throat bled, no one came to open the door and save him—just as the malicious flames were about to lick his feet, a sudden downpour extinguished the fire.
Cai Zhao smiled through her tears. "This is how you are. The more you fear something, the more you force yourself to adapt to it, pretending to be unshakable in front of others, always flawless."
"Don't be so stubborn," she gently caressed his cheek. "If you dislike something, just say so. In the days to come, don't push yourself too hard."
The expression on the girl's face was unusual—gentle yet sorrowful. Mu Qingyan felt a vague unease and wanted to stop her, but Li Wenxun interrupted, and he could only watch helplessly as the girl left.
After exiting the dungeon, Cai Zhao bowed respectfully to Li Wenxun. "Shibo, after the execution tomorrow, we'll be setting off back home. This trip was originally to pay respects to Great Hero Chang. All my fellow disciples and elders have already offered their tributes, except for me. Great Hero Chang showed great kindness to the Cai Family and Fallen Blossom Valley. I'd like to pay my respects."
The girl spoke humbly and reasonably, and besides, Mu Qingyan's dungeon was heavily guarded. Li Wenxun thought for a moment and agreed.
Cai Zhao asked Fan Xingjia to fetch the chest she had left at the inn earlier. She set aside a long, flat case and took out a bundle from the very bottom. Inside were exquisite handmade items she had prepared long ago—a three-room house, a tall carriage with four reins, even tables, chairs, and a chessboard, all made of bamboo and wood.
Though the items were small, they were lifelike. The wheels of the carriage could even roll. Fan Xingjia was mesmerized. "Shimei, your craftsmanship is amazing! This rocking chair really rocks. Wow, even these chess pieces can be taken out." He held a few rice-sized black and white chess pieces in his palm.Cai Zhao carefully packed the handmade items one by one into a bamboo basket, shouldering it herself with a gentle smile. "This is nothing much. If my grandfather were here, he could craft an entire model of the Chang Family Fortress."
Li Wenxun could tell these were painstakingly crafted by the girl, and his expression softened slightly. "Zhao Zhao, your thoughtfulness does justice to Chang Haosheng's loyalty to Fallen Blossom Valley. Burning these offerings will surely bring him joy."
Immediately, he selected sixteen skilled outer disciples to "accompany" Fan Xingjia and Cai Zhao on their swift journey to Wu'an Mountain to pay respects to Chang Haosheng.
Upon reaching the back hills of the Chang Family Fortress, Cai Zhao noticed the once overgrown cemetery had been neatly tended. She looked around and praised the effort. Then she told Fan Xingjia she had some words she wished to say privately to Great Hero Chang, so Fan Xingjia led the sixteen disciples to wait outside the cemetery.
Shortly after, Fan Xingjia saw a wisp of smoke rise, signaling the girl had begun burning the offerings, and went to fetch her. On the way back, he noticed the empty bamboo basket on her back seemed unusually heavy and asked curiously, "Zhao Zhao, what else did you put in the basket?"
Cai Zhao replied softly, "I dug up a few saplings to plant back at the sect, as a memento of Great Hero Chang. The weight must be from the soil still clinging to the roots."
His junior sister had always had an eye for life's pleasures, caring not just for food and clothing but also for her surroundings. Even during her brief stay at Qingjing Cottage, she had her maids decorate it meticulously. Fan Xingjia saw no reason to doubt her and cheerfully rode back.
By the time they returned to Grand Beginning Temple, night had fallen. Li Wenxun, pleased to see them return without incident, nodded in satisfaction.
Cai Zhao gently suggested, "Li Shibo, the brothers must be exhausted. There’s no need to station so many outside my room. As long as the dungeon is tightly guarded, what could I possibly do?"
Seeing the girl’s sorrowful and resigned demeanor, Li Wenxun considered her words reasonable. Guarding Mu Qingyan would not only prevent Cai Zhao from making mistakes but also deter the Demonic Cult from attempting a rescue.
Thus, he withdrew the disciples from outside Cai Zhao’s room, deploying all personnel to guard the dungeon. Before leaving, he instructed Fan Xingjia to keep an eye on her.
After a long day’s journey, Fan Xingjia was thoroughly exhausted. He washed up briefly and fell asleep on the recliner outside.
In the middle of the night, a faint light seemed to glow by his pillow. He heard someone rummaging through his bag and, in his drowsiness, turned over to see a strangely familiar figure sitting by his bedside.
Why did it look familiar?
'He' looked just like himself—the outline, the hair, the clothing—as if 'he' were sitting there watching him. How absurd...
Wait—that wasn’t right!
Before Fan Xingjia could fully awaken, a familiar, pungent odor overwhelmed him, and his body went numb as he lost consciousness completely.
At dawn the next day, the six sects gathered in the main hall of Grand Beginning Temple for the execution of the Demonic Cult’s Mu Qingyan.
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