Chapter 78: The Shadowed Walls

In the grand hall, Lord Daoxuan had yet to return, and a murmur of hushed whispers rippled through the crowd.

When Shuiyue and her two disciples re-entered, they found the assembly parting to either side, with Zhang Xiaofan still kneeling alone. Lu Xueqi seemed to hesitate for a moment, but after a stern glance from Shuiyue, she silently moved to stand behind her master.

A short while later, Lord Daoxuan slowly emerged from the rear chamber, returning to his seat, and the hall instantly fell silent.

Lord Daoxuan did not immediately address Zhang Xiaofan. Instead, he turned to the venerable monk Puhong with a regretful expression and said, “Brother Puhong, I apologize for the discourtesy of my disciples. They must have embarrassed you.”

Puhong smiled faintly and clasped his hands, “Lord Daoxuan, such words are unnecessary!”

At that moment, Daoist Cangsong approached, carrying Zhang Xiaofan’s firestick and placing it on the table beside Lord Daoxuan. Daoxuan’s brow furrowed slightly as he looked at Cangsong, a hint of doubt in his eyes.

Cangsong whispered, “Brother, after you left, there was some commotion. This object is of great importance. To prevent any mishaps, I secured it and have now returned it here.”

Lord Daoxuan nodded, “Your diligence is noted.”

Cangsong retreated, and Lord Daoxuan’s gaze returned to Zhang Xiaofan. The air thickened with tension, as everyone knew that what would follow could decide the fate of this young man.

“Zhang Xiaofan, I will ask you one last time. Do you have anything to say?”

A bead of sweat formed on Zhang Xiaofan’s forehead. The situation had deteriorated to an extreme, but years in Qingyun Sect taught him the peril of revealing its secrets. Should he confess, his own fate would be uncertain, but the late Priest Puzhi’s reputation and burial site at Tiansheng Temple would surely be compromised.

Moreover, would anyone even believe him about Priest Puzhi, one of the four revered monks of Tianyin Temple?

He wrestled with these thoughts, torn between loyalty and the truth. The image of Puzhi’s kindly face flashed in his mind, but so did the deep gratitude he owed his sect. To betray Puzhi would be like signing his own death warrant. In such a short time, clarity eluded him.

But the people in the hall had no more patience.

Lord Daoxuan watched as Zhang Xiaofan’s expression fluctuated, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, but he remained silent. Recalling the earlier plea from the disciples, a long-dormant rage within Daoxuan ignited fiercely.

It was as if, a century ago, a white-robed figure knelt before the statues of the Three Purities, defiant and unyielding, even as the sect pleaded for leniency.

Shuiyue, seated at the back, observed Lord Daoxuan’s darkening countenance, and a flicker of sorrow crossed her face before she lowered her head.

“Bang!”

A loud crash startled everyone!

Lord Daoxuan, his patience finally exhausted, stood abruptly, pointing at Zhang Xiaofan with a furious shout, “Wretch! I took you in out of pity, only to find you a threat in our midst!”

Zhang Xiaofan swayed, lifting his head with an open mouth, as if to speak.

But Lord Daoxuan’s face was as cold as ice. “If we do not rid ourselves of you, how can Qingyun Sect answer to the righteous path?” He picked up the firestick, saying, “Today, you shall die by your own demonic artifact…”

The assembly paled, and Tian Yishi sprang to his feet. Lu Xueqi, Tian Ling’er, Lin Jingyu, and even Puhong appeared uneasy. “Lord Daoxuan, perhaps reconsider…” Puhong murmured.

Daoxuan snarled, “This wretch carries demonic objects and has committed grave sins. Today, you shall perish by your own hand…”

Zhang Xiaofan’s mind went blank, seeing Daoxuan raise his arm, Tian Yishi turning green, and the disciples in chaos. The hall was on the brink of bloodshed.

“Sigh!”

A sudden cry shocked everyone. Lord Daoxuan shuddered, roaring as he threw the firestick, as if scalded.

The firestick skidded across the floor, landing near Zhang Xiaofan. From it, a black shadow leaped, pausing mid-air, emitting a high-pitched squeak.

It was a bizarre centipede, colorful and with seven forked tails, writhing and hissing menacingly.

Zhang Xiaofan froze, trembling. He stared at the monstrous creature, a vivid memory: “The Seven-Tailed Centipede!”

Time rewound, bringing him back to that fateful night, the battle between Puzhi and the mysterious figure, and the night he lost everything.

His body quaked, enveloped in a flood of memories. He reached out, clutching the firestick tightly.

No one noticed his state; all eyes were on Lord Daoxuan. The elders swiftly surrounded him, separating him from the centipedge. As they saw Daoxuan, their faces drained of color.

Lord Daoxuan’s right hand trembled, a wound visible, oozing black blood. Dark energy crawled up his finger. The Seven-Tailed Centipede, renowned for its venom, had struck even this revered master.

Dizzy and breathless, Daoxuan, using his formidable strength, halted the spread of the dark energy, drawing sigils in the air. Cangsong rushed to support him, glancing at the wound and shouting at Zhang Xiaofan, “Wretch, you dared to harm the Sect Master!”

Zhang Xiaofan protested, “No, it wasn’t me…”

Lord Daoxuan, though pale, managed to speak, “Seize him and interrogate him!”

Cangsong nodded, “I will take care of it.”

Daoxuan, breathing heavily, half-reassured, said, “Then….”

Suddenly, Cangsong’s face twisted. In the same instant, a sharp pain pierced Daoxuan’s abdomen. His vital energy, previously restraining the poison, dissipated.

“Aah!”

Daoxuan cried out, striking with his left hand. Cangsong parried, flying back to the entrance, blood trickling from his mouth, a cruel smirk on his face.

Cangsong held a crystalline dagger, smeared with blood. The hall fell into an eerie silence.

Lord Daoxuan’s robes darkened, his face pale, but the shock overshadowed his pain. “What… are you doing?” he rasped, voicing the assembly’s confusion. Even Qihao and Jingyu from Longshou Peak were incredulous.

“I?” Cangsong laughed maniacally, “I’m betraying you, can’t you see?” He gestured, and the centipede vanished into his sleeve. Qihao, in disbelief, shouted, “Master, have you gone mad?”

Cangsong glanced at them, then to Jingyu, and the rest of the disciples, who gazed at him as if he were a madman. “Yes, I am mad!” Cangsong roared, “I’ve been mad since that day a century ago, when I saw Wan Jianyi’s fate on this very floor!”

“Wan Jianyi,” a name shrouded in dread, hung over the hall.

Lord Daoxuan’s eyes twitched. Xiao Yicai, supporting him, felt a sudden heat from his body. Cangsong, frenzied, accused the elders, “Tell me, who should be Sect Master? Wan Jianyi or him?”

No one answered. Tien Yishi and the others, grim-faced, remained silent.

“How can you stay silent, burdened with guilt?” Cangsong sneered, “Who doesn’t know the truth? But who sits on the throne?”

Shuiyue, pale, asked, “Cangsong, why dwell on this past?”

“Ha!” Cangsong spat, “I’ve endured a century, biding my time to avenge Wan Jianyi. You all, enjoying your power, remember his sacrifice?”

His finger jabbed at Tien Yishi, Zeng Shuchang, and Shang Zhengliang, “Do you recall his generosity, sharing his insights, advancing your powers? And you, Shuiyue!”

Shuiyue, stricken, listened as Cangsong accused, “Did you love Wan Jianyi, and yet failed to save him? Mocking me now, eh?”

Tien Yishi, his fists clenched, acknowledged, “Wan Jianyi treated me with great kindness. I cannot repay him, even with my life.”

Cangsong sneered, “You stole his love, his wife. You, unworthy, betrayed him!”

Tien Yishi, head bowed, said nothing. Su Ru, stepping forward, declared, “Wan Jianyi blessed our union. We loved each other of our own accord, no betrayal.”

Cangsong laughed, “Wan Jianyi, proud and noble, suffered quietly. I pledged my life to avenge him, even if it meant allying with the demonic forces.”

Lord Daoxuan, wounded, stepped forward, his aura overpowering. “You, obsessed with the past, dare to challenge me? Come, let us see if you deserve the leadership!”

Black blood flowed from Daoxuan’s wound, his voice hoarse, “Are you worthy?”

Cangsong laughed, “You may be strong, but there is someone stronger.”

As if on cue, a thunderous voice boomed, “Old friend Daoxuan, a century apart, and you still exude power, indeed commendable!”

The hall erupted in shouts, cries of “Demons attack!” resounded.

“What treachery is this?” Daoxuan gasped.

Cangsong cackled, “I’ve allied with the demonic. Qingyun Sect is worse than those it despises. For Wan Jianyi, I would damn myself to hell!”

Su Ru, pale, muttered, “He’s truly lost his mind.”

Tien Yishi, knowing Cangsong’s power and influence, feared the worst. Glancing at Zhang Xiaofan, he pulled him behind, noticing the boy’s strange demeanor.

Zhang Xiaofan, eyes red, fixed on Cangsong, muttering, “It was him, it had to be…”