That so-called Qi Xiezi was a demon cultivator—his death was not worth mourning. This entire situation was never meant to escalate like this. If not for Song Wanníng and Bai Gui Men stirring up trouble, things would have never gotten so far out of hand.
But Liu Yao, guilty and afraid, hadn't dared return to the sect to explain himself. That was the only reason he had dragged things out for so long. Now, he had run out of ways to delay.
After hearing Liu Yao's account, the cold aura surrounding Meng Yang grew even sharper. A woman's figure appeared in his mind. It was Song Wanníng of Wentian Sect. Back then, she had only been in the Foundation Establishment stage, participating in the Heaven's Chosen Tournament. Arrogant by nature, unstoppable in battle.
Though still young, she had left a lasting impression. He hadn't expected that this entire mess with Liu Yao really did involve Song Wanníng. "So… you admit you colluded with demon cultivators?"
Did he really think that just because he hadn't harmed any children, everything would be fine?
Did Liu Yao even understand what he had done?
A Nascent Soul cultivator from a righteous sect, actually conspiring with a demon cultivator to frame Song Wanníng!
If word of this got out, the consequences could be devastating. Never mind Wentian Sect—even the Song family would not let Wangshan Sect off the hook.
The condemnation of the entire cultivation world would rain down on them. Personal grudges should be settled privately. No one could object to that. But Liu Yao, out of cowardice and selfishness, had brought in a demon cultivator. That changed everything.
How rotten was his brain to come up with such a despicable plan?
"Martial Uncle, I… I know I was wrong, truly… I can apologize to Song Wanníng!
I'll make it right, she'll forgive me… Martial Uncle, please believe me!"
Of course Liu Yao understood the consequences. If he didn't, he wouldn't have spent all this time hiding. But he didn't want to die. He couldn't afford to die.
"If she would forgive you, would these memory stones even exist?"
Meng Yang sighed. Song Wanníng had already made her stance clear by distributing them. She didn't just want Liu Yao dead. She wanted him hated by the world before he died.
Forgiveness was never on the table.
Meng Yang stared at Liu Yao, eyes growing dark. Suddenly, he lifted a hand, and a beam of white light shot toward Liu Yao's forehead.
This was his secret art: the Soul-Seizing Technique.
Similar to the Soul-Searching Technique, but without damaging the spirit. It could be used freely, though it consumed mental strength.
He had a strong feeling that this matter was far from simple.
As the Soul-Seizing Technique activated, Liu Yao's entire body stiffened. His eyes opened wide, unmoving, even the pupils frozen in place.
Liu Yiyi's heart dropped. She had thought that if her brother confessed honestly, they might muddle through. She never expected Martial Uncle would go so far as to use the Soul-Seizing Technique.
That meant all the memories she and Liu Yao had discussed—the ones they tried to bury—were going to be exposed. Panic washed over her pale face. She could only pray Meng Yang would overlook those scenes.
But as time passed, Meng Yang's expression grew darker and darker. Before even finishing the memory sweep, he struck out and sent Liu Yao flying.
"Ah—!"
Liu Yao screamed as his body slammed hard into a stone outcrop.
"You wretched fool. You actually colluded with demon cultivators to commit so many crimes?!"
Meng Yang's chest heaved with fury. First Xu Zhiyuan, now Liu Yao. His entire understanding of the sect's disciples was crumbling.
"Martial Uncle…"
Liu Yao spat blood as he tried to speak, eyes wide with terror.
Meng Yang had seen everything—things that should have remained hidden, and things that never should've happened at all.
Liu Yao opened his mouth, trying to explain, but he knew there was no excuse convincing enough. Not for Meng Yang.
"Liu Yao, you've disappointed me beyond words."
A chilling emptiness rose in Meng Yang's heart. He felt exhausted to the core. Wangshan Sect was in desperate need of reform. He closed his eyes for a moment. When they opened again, all warmth was gone.
"Today, I will cleanse our sect on behalf of Wangshan Sect."
Meng Yang had no interest in wasting more words. If Song Wanníng spread word of Liu Yao's collusion with demon cultivators, Wangshan Sect's reputation would be utterly destroyed.
He could not allow that to happen.
With that, he lunged toward Liu Yao.
Liu Yao froze, then his expression twisted in disbelief and madness. He had never imagined that the sect he had spent his entire life serving would abandon him so coldly. His despair turned to rage, and in that moment, his inner demon devoured the last of his reason.
Liu Yao snapped. He charged at Meng Yang in a crazed counterattack.
They clashed—but it was hardly a battle.
Meng Yang utterly crushed Liu Yao.
In just two moves, Liu Yao was sprawled on the ground, his bones shattered, blood staining the earth.
Liu Yiyi stood off to the side, wanting to rush in and help countless times. But reason held her back. She kept telling herself this wasn't abandonment. It was helplessness. She couldn't let the Liu family line end like this.
While she was still searching for excuses to justify herself, Meng Yang struck again.
The gap between peak Divine Transformation and peak Nascent Soul was like a chasm. And Liu Yao was already injured. Meng Yang drew his spear. A sharp gleam surged with killing intent as it flew toward Liu Yao's chest.
Liu Yao had lost all rationality. He howled, screamed, and thrashed. But the moment the spear pierced his heart, all sound ceased. A tiny Yuányīng figure scrambled out, fleeing in panic, clinging to its last shred of consciousness.
Meng Yang didn't even glance at it. His expression was firm as he reached out and seized the struggling soul in his palm. He looked into Liu Yao's terrified eyes and crushed the Yuányīng without hesitation.
"Ah—!"
The tiny figure dissolved into starlight, scattering into the wind. Only a final cry of hatred and regret lingered, echoing endlessly.
Liu Yiyi broke into a cold sweat. Tears poured from her eyes. That was her big brother. The one who had protected her since childhood. And all she could do was stand there and watch him be killed. She could barely stay on her feet. Her fists trembled, clenched tight.
In the end, Meng Yang still let Liu Yao keep his body intact.
Liu Yao had been a bitter disappointment, had brought him pain—but he was still a junior Meng Yang had watched grow up. This was the only dignity Meng Yang could give him. He cast a cold glance at Liu Yiyi. He already knew the role she had played in this.
But Wangshan Sect had just lost two Nascent Soul cultivators in a row. They couldn't afford another loss. Besides, Liu Yiyi had only pushed Liu Yao to deal with Song Wanníng. She hadn't been involved in the previous dealings with demon cultivators.
So a light punishment would suffice. He threw out one final sentence.
"Take care of the body. Then get back to the sect and reflect on your actions."
Meng Yang stormed off, seething with fury.
Liu Yiyi stood frozen, staring blankly at Liu Yao's corpse. Her body swayed unsteadily.
Her big brother, gone. Just like that.
There had been no miracle.
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she collapsed, clutching Liu Yao's body in anguish. She cried until her voice cracked, sobbing from the depths of her soul. But not once did she reflect on her own guilt.
Instead, she blamed Song Wanníng.
If she hadn't exposed everything, how could her brother have died?
"Big Brother… I'm sorry…
Don't worry. I'll avenge you.
Song Wanníng, that wretched bitch… she'll die by my hand!!!"