Gasps turned into horrified silence.
Not the stunned awe of a dramatic reveal—but the raw, gut-punch kind of silence that came when reality shattered expectations.
No one—not even his enemies—had really thought he’d do it.
They thought he was bluffing.
Maybe a dramatic speech. A deflection. A flashy gesture to distract the crowd and regain control of the narrative.
But this?
This was madness.
Someone whispered hoarsely, “He actually did it…”
Another voice—shaky, disbelieving—followed.
“He tore it out… with his bare hands…”
They stared at the blood dripping from his fingers.
At the faint, golden-white glow of the Dao Bone pulsing in his grasp—beautiful, pure, sacred.
And soaked in his own blood.
Even the wind stilled.
Because one should know—removing a Dao Bone wasn’t just painful.
It was catastrophic.
The act didn’t just threaten the body. It shattered one’s cultivation foundation.
Made future breakthroughs nearly impossible. In many cases, it reduced one to a cripple—forever severed from the Cultivation.
He might lose everything.
He might become mortal.
Even the warships overhead fell quiet, their thunderous engines humming low—stunned, as if witnessing something divine or deranged.
Li Jianhong’s sneer froze mid-formation.
This wasn’t part of their plan.
They had expected Bai Zihan to deny, to justify, to spiral under pressure and crumble before the crowd.
But Bai Zihan hadn’t done any of that.
He didn’t hide. He didn’t beg. He didn’t run.
He admitted his sin and ripped open his own chest in front of the entire Empire.
And now he stood there—bloody, broken, and holding the very Dao Bone they demanded.
“Hah… Hah…”
The sound of Bai Zihan’s breathing was ragged, but unwavering.
Blood gushed down his torso, soaking his robes in crimson, as he stood in the center of the Bai Clan courtyard—chest torn open, Dao Bone in hand.
Still glowing.
Still pulsing with divine radiance.
It shimmered in Bai Zihan’s bloodstained grip—gleaming like it didn’t belong in this cruel, wretched world.
And many in the crowd gulped unconsciously, greed flickering in their eyes at the sight of a treasure that could change their fate.
(Was that too much?)
Bai Zihan wondered.
Did he overdo it?
The truth was—he never needed to rip it out.
The Dao Bone had been stored in the System Store for a long time. He could’ve retrieved it without effort, without injury.
But that wasn’t enough.
He couldn’t just take it out.
He needed to sell the illusion—make it real, make them believe. And to do that, he had to put on a show.
He’d put his body on the line for the sake of a narrative.
A performance.
Because once the Li and Zhao Clans learned the truth… It was only a matter of time before it went public.
They might claim they’d keep their mouths shut and negotiate, but who could trust that?
Better to tell the world himself and on his terms as well.
And if he could turn it into something that blunted the blow to the Bai Clan’s reputation—even better.
Because while he didn’t care much for reputation, he knew better than anyone:
Wars were won not just with swords.
But with public opinion.
With moral high ground.
If the Li and Zhao Clans painted the Bai Clan as monsters—stealing from their own kin—then even outsiders would see their invasion as justice, not conquest.
That couldn’t happen.
Not on his watch.
(Still… damn, it hurts!)
He winced internally.
His body had grown so strong that injuring it wasn’t easy.
He’d had to use real strength—real force—to even simulate the damage.
A half-hearted effort wouldn’t have made a scratch.
But he’d pulled it off.
A very convincing act.
And by the stunned silence around him—it worked.
Bai Xueqing looked at Bai Zihan in horror.
Never—not in a thousand years—had she expected him to do this.
She thought he, a coward, manipulator, the kind of person who would never admit to stealing the Dao Bone, let alone rip it out in front of the entire Empire.
This wouldn’t just destroy his reputation.
It could destroy his cultivation.
Everything he’d worked for—gone.
Just like that.
Bai Xinyue stood similarly shocked.
Even after everything—after he gave up the Immortal Emperor’s Inheritance for her—she’d never imagined he would go this far.
She’d assumed that act was his form of compensation.
But if he already gave up the Inheritance…
Then why this?
Was he afraid of the backlash?
She doubted that. The Bai Zihan she remembered never cared what others thought.
So then—
“Bai Zihan… just what are you thinking?”
She couldn’t see through him, not then and certainly not now.
She tried to understand him, tried to grasp what he wanted, tried to help him but never really seemed to achieve any of that.
“So this is Bai Zihan… never expected him to be this ruthless.”
“Yeah! Doesn’t he fear what his enemies will do once he’s powerless? He might even lose his heir position.”
“Still… I respect him. To admit his mistake—and undo it with his own hands…”
…
The onlookers whispered.
Even those who hated him had to admit—they admired his guts.
And more than that… they feared him.
Such ruthlessness.
Such cold resolve.
One could only wonder what he might have become—what kind of monster or legend he could’ve been—if he hadn’t destroyed himself.
Even Zhao Wutian couldn’t deny it.
Though the outcome was unexpected… Perhaps it was better this way.
Because someone like Bai Zihan?
Left unchecked?
Left to grow?
He might’ve become something far worse than they could ever deal with.
“A dangerous man,” Zhao Wutian muttered.
“Good thing he ruined himself first.”
Everyone knew that now that he had taken out the Dao Bone, there was no future left for Bai Zihan.
The Bai Zihan they once knew—was gone.
“This is the Dao Bone I stole from my cousin, Bai Xinyue, when she was still young. Because of this, she suffered greatly… and was even exiled from the Bai Clan because of it.”
Bai Tianheng looked at his son, stunned by his actions.
And now this…
He had always believed Bai Zihan was not at fault—that it was all the result of his wife’s misguided decisions.
Bai Zihan knew that too.
And yet… he still made it seem like he was the one who orchestrated the whole thing, taking all the blame onto himself.
(Wife… if only you had trusted our son. His future might’ve shone even brighter.)
“I admit I wronged her,” Bai Zihan continued. “And I owe her more than I can ever repay. This—”
He held up the Dao Bone, blood still dripping from his hand.
“—is just a small part of the justice she deserves.”