Morning came bright and clear, yet the air over the Soaring Crane Sect was thick with the scent of unease.Only two days remained before the coronation of the new emperor.
From the balcony overlooking the main courtyard, Li Qiong and Min He sat side by side.Between them was a small clay bowl filled with roasted seeds and cups of tea; the crisp sound of shells cracking and the slurping of tea echoed faintly in the quiet.
Below, the disciples lined up as a small group of travelers entered the sect. They were dressed in coarse hemp clothes, faces tanned and humble. They bowed deeply before the gathered elders and asked, trembling, to see Wen Yu'an.
The servants swept the courtyards, banners were hung from the white pavilions, and elders whispered among themselves with forced smiles. But Li Qiong felt the tension in the air.
Their voices were humble, their story carefully woven:"Many years ago… we came from a small but prestigious clan once. But our family was destroyed when we opposed a noble clan. We scattered to survive, forced to live as peasants after our family's destruction."
"That day, a child was taken from us — we've searched for him ever since. At last… we have found him."
Their tale drew tears from some of the junior disciples.As the words spread, the disciples stirred with emotion.
Even Min He smiled faintly, her eyes glimmering."How wonderful," she murmured, "after so many years apart…"
Beside her, Li Qiong said nothing.
He popped another seed into his mouth and leaned forward, began counting on his fingers.
"One… two… three…"His lips curved into the faintest smile.
Min He frowned. "What are you doing?"
Li Qiong's lips curved faintly.
"The longer the lie, the louder the truth."
Before Min He could ask what he meant, a roar thundered from the main hall.
The Patriarch himself burst forth, robes billowing like storm clouds.In a single stride, his foot launched Wen Yu'an across the chest.The hidden heir flew several paces, crashed into the stone steps, and coughed blood that stained the flagstones crimson. The "family" behind him froze in shock — it was too sudden to block.
Gasps rippled through the sect. Disciples froze.From the courtyard's edge, several figures were dragged forward—faces swollen, bodies trembling, meridians shattered by punishment. The guards threw them to the ground like garbage.
"Patriarch! What is the meaning of this?"
The old man's answer came not with words but with fury.He hurled a bundle of scrolls and papers to the ground. They burst open like spilled beans — ledgers, contracts, counterfeit seals, and letters bearing the Soaring Crane's mark.
"Look for yourselves!" the Patriarch's voice cracked through the courtyard like thunder."This scoundrel and his dogs have soiled the name of our sect! They robbed the weak, sold men and women as slaves, and disgraced the name of this sect!"
Gasps filled the air.Min He went pale.
Wen Yu'an turned to horror. Min He stood frozen.The elders bent to read, faces burning red with each line.
"And that is not all," the Patriarch said coldly. "He even stole the personal garments of his senior sisters. A petty thief and a beast in human skin!"
The words struck like lightning. Murmurs surged, disciples stepped back from Wen Yu'an as though his filth might stain them.
He struggled to his knees, blood running from his mouth, his face contorted in disbelief.
"It's a lie!" he shouted. "I never—this is all fabricated! Someone—someone planted this!"He turned wildly, his eyes landing on the Patriarch. "Who gave you this?! Who?!"
The Patriarch did not answer.But from the balcony, a calm voice rose.
"It was I."
Every head turned.Li Qiong stood, sleeves fluttering in the morning breeze, expression mild — almost amused.He looked down at the chaos below like a scholar watching an ink stroke dry.
Eyes as still as the surface of a lake.He smiled — quiet, genuine, and unhurried.
Every gaze turned upward.Min He's breath caught. Wen Yu'an's pupils shrank to pinpoints.
"You—" he rasped.Blood welled up again from his throat, and he spat it out, red staining the marble below.His hatred burned hotter than flame, yet his fear was deeper than any hole.
"Rumors?" he spat. "You dare—!"
Li Qiong tilted his head slightly.
"Search their dens," the Patriarch commanded. "Every gambling house, every brothel, every warehouse in the lower districts — bring me the ledgers!"
"Kill anyone who interferes."
Messengers fled like wind. Before long, more elders arrived, bearing crates of seized records and testimonies. Captives — wives, widows, merchants, servants — were brought forth under guard.They knelt in the courtyard, trembling, and told what they had seen.Each word flayed the illusion further.Each name spoken was a blade drawn.
Each pointed toward Wen Yu'an and his companions.
Some of the accused fainted where they stood. Others fell to their knees, begging.
"Patriarch! Please! It's a misunderstanding!" one cried. "We only came to—"
"Silence!" The old man's kick sent him sprawling."You dare bring shame to this sect's gates? Guards! Bind them all!"
And still, Wen Yu'an denied it all, his voice breaking into hoarse cries."Lies! They were bought—coerced! None of it true!"
But the Patriarch's face was carved from stone.His hand lifted once more, aura rising to strike—
Min He stepped forward, trying to intervene, but Wen Yu'an clung to her sleeve like a drowning man grasping for air.
"Please, Senior Sister, I—I didn't—!"
But her eyes were clouded with uncertainty now.
Now, the Patriarch's fury only deepened — his daughter protecting a criminal.
Others pointed at Min He; after all, Wen Yu'an had been under her — one of her servants.
The Patriarch gave the order to kill and drew his blade.
The men who pretended to be his "family" began to panic. Their faces twitched, spiritual energy leaking despite their effort to appear mortal.
Then the "mortal" visitors rushed forward, breaking their act at last.Spiritual light burst from their bodies as they tried to shield Wen Yu'an.The courtyard erupted in shock.
The Patriarch's eyes narrowed. "You—who are you?"
Soaring Crane disciples drew blades; elders shouted for restraint.The Patriarch's strike halted an inch from Wen Yu'an's chest, the air trembling between them.
"Enough!" the gray-haired man cried. His disguise crumbled, revealing the glint of a cultivator's core."We cannot hide it any longer. This child—Wen Yu'an—is of royal blood. The illegitimate heir to the Throne. His enemies sought his death from birth. We concealed him among mortals to save his life!"
A heavy silence fell.
The claim rolled through the sect like thunder over still water.
suddenly
Li Qiong smashed Wen Yu'an's head.It burst — blood splattering to the ground and on the people nearby.
"Why illegitimate heir," Li Qiong said softly, "when the legitimate one still lives?"
Min He stared in disbelief.Li Qiong said nothing — his smile grew colder, unpredictable.
The Patriarch's sleeve fell to his side, blood covering it.His gaze swept from the trembling impostors to the blood-stained disciple crouched behind Min He.
"For I see no royal here — only filth clinging to royal silk."
The cultivators drew their swords. One by one, they burst apart, dying a gruesome death.
It was all calculated.