Shen Liang froze for a second.
Then he laughed.
No—he screeched.
A wild, cracked sound that echoed through the Punishment Hall and made several outer disciples flinch.
“HAHAHAHA! You’re all insane! You… you old fool! Do you even hear yourself!?”
He thrashed against the disciples holding him, blood still dripping from the stump where his arm used to be.
“You’re just going to let it go!? Just like that!? Because he’s your damn heir!?”
He spat on the floor, frothing with fury, teeth bared.
“Fine! FINE! Let him do whatever the hell he wants! Let him bully fellow clan members, make enemies everywhere, teach your clan’s secret techniques to outsiders—see where that gets you, you blind bastards!”
The disciples restraining him tried to keep him steady, but he kept twisting, snapping his head toward Grand Elder Bai Ren with wild, red eyes.
“You think he’s the future of your Bai Clan? Him!? You’re all fools! The Bai Clan will burn to ashes with that lunatic in charge!”
His voice cracked, shrill with spite.
“And I’ll be there when it happens! I’ll laugh over your graves! All of you!”
“Drag him away,” Tian Yuheng ordered. He didn’t want Shen Liang to trigger Grand Elder Bai Ren—who knew what he would do if truly angered?
He wouldn’t be able to stop him, even with the help of all the elders present. Better to remove the one provoking him before it was too late.
“Before he embarrasses himself even more.”
The disciples didn’t hesitate. They yanked Shen Liang away, silencing him mid-scream.
He still tried to struggle, still muttered curses and promises of vengeance, but his voice grew fainter as they hauled him out of the Punishment Hall like a sack of trash.
Silence settled again.
The Sect Leader stepped forward.
He looked… tired.
He pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers and let out a long, slow sigh that practically echoed louder than Shen Liang’s rants.
“…I swear,” he muttered, eyes closed.
“One morning. Just one peaceful morning. Is that so much to ask?”
He opened his eyes and glanced around the Punishment Hall—at the broken tiles, the splatters of blood, the ruined pride of the Shen Clan hanging like a ghost in the air.
He looked at Bai Zihan.
Then Elder Shen, still lying broken in the corner like someone had stepped on his spine.
“…This case is closed,” the Sect Leader finally said, voice steady despite the twitch in his brow.
“Bai Zihan acted with reason and provided evidence. Shen Liang and Mei Rulan will be punished by the sect for his crimes and insubordination.”
He turned, already walking away.
“And as for everything else—” he muttered under his breath, but loud enough for some to hear “—someone better prepare three days’ worth of tea and scrolls. Because the damn paperwork for this is going to kill me.”
After all, he still had to investigate Elder Shen, whose work was likely filled with corruption.
And then there was the matter of explaining this to both the Bai and Shen Clans.
There was also the possibility of war with the Shen Clan, though unlikely, given Shen Liang was clearly at fault.
But if they wanted to be stupid, they could try.
More likely, they’d pick a fight with the Bai Clan rather than the Heaven Sword Sect.
In either case, the Shen Clan had no chance of victory.
“…Elder Bai, do you have a moment? If you want to discuss this further, we can—”
Tian Yuheng asked politely.
Bai Ren gave him a faint, almost courteous smile and shook his head.
“Unfortunately, I have my own matters to attend to.”
The Sect Leader didn’t ask what those matters were.
After everything that had just happened, and with Shen Liang’s parting accusation still hanging in the air, it didn’t take a genius to guess what Bai Ren was planning to do next.
He was going to talk to Bai Zihan.
Not publicly, of course.
He hadn’t addressed the accusation directly, brushing it off with disdain to protect his clan’s face in front of the sect.
But in private? That was another story.
And if that accusation turned out to be true…
He didn’t even want to think about what a pissed-off Grand Elder from the Bai Clan might do.
He sighed again.
“Of course. I understand,” he said, though his tone hinted at mild exasperation.
As he walked away, he thought.
(Bai Tianheng owes me big time for this one.)
Dealing with his brat and then the Grand Elder—yeah, this was a major favor. Both of them were like ticking time bombs.
The Sect Leader’s lips curled into a dry smile.
(You better believe it. I’m writing up the debt the moment I finish all this work.)
Bai Ren stood still for a moment, hands clasped behind his back, gaze sweeping over the lingering crowd.
Most had already begun to disperse, but many stole glances at him—and more notably, at Bai Zihan.
He turned and walked slowly toward the boy in question.
His eyes—deep, unreadable—rested on Bai Zihan’s calm expression.
They would speak soon.
And what came next would depend entirely on the answers he received.
He stopped a few steps away from Bai Zihan, his hands still folded neatly behind his back, his voice calm and almost casual.
“Zihan’er,” he said, tone polite but distant, “why don’t we head to your courtyard for a bit? It’s been a while. We should… catch up.”
There was a faint smile on his face. The kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Bai Zihan didn’t blink.
He met the old man’s gaze head-on, the corner of his mouth twitching in something between amusement and resignation.
(’Catch up,’ huh?)
If Bai Ren truly believed there was anything between them worth reminiscing about, he’d kept it well-hidden for the last decade.
They weren’t enemies—not openly.
But close enough to catch up?
No.
Their relationship had always been defined by distance and scrutiny.
And Bai Zihan had no illusions about why Bai Ren wanted to talk now.
Still, he gave a light nod, face calm, tone perfectly courteous.
“Of course, Grand Elder. Please, follow me.”
As he began walking beside Bai Ren, he didn’t bother with small talk. Bai Ren didn’t either.
This wasn’t a reunion.
This was an interrogation with good manners.
Behind him, a quiet set of footsteps followed—three pairs, to be exact.
Bai Zihan didn’t need to turn around to know who they were.
Bai Xueqing walked with her arms folded, her face unreadable.
Her gaze had been fixed on him the moment the Punishment Hall emptied, and she hadn’t said a word since.
Chu Ziyan trailed just behind her, jaw tight, glancing between Bai Zihan and Bai Ren with subtle concern.
She wasn’t stupid—she knew this wasn’t just a family stroll.
And then there was Lin Xuan.
The kid looked… nervous.
No—more than nervous. He looked guilty.
Like a child caught playing with fire who suddenly realized someone else might be the one getting burned.
His eyes kept flicking toward Bai Zihan’s back, then down at the ground, then toward Bai Ren’s imposing figure.
(Lin Xuan thinks this is his fault.)
Of course he did.
He believed he’d learned a Bai Clan secret technique—stolen it, even. Shen Liang had practically screamed it at the sky.
And now Bai Zihan was being ’invited for tea’ by the Bai Clan’s Grand Elder.
Lin Xuan probably thought he’d just gotten the one person who helped him executed.
Bai Zihan almost laughed.
Instead, he spoke without looking back.
“Stop frowning so hard, Lin Xuan. You’ll wrinkle early.”
The words were light, joking even, but they cut through the tension like a blade.
Lin Xuan flinched.
“I-I wasn’t— I mean, Young Master Bai, if it’s because of—”
Bai Zihan raised a hand behind him, silencing him with a flick of his fingers.
“You’re not that important,” he said dryly. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
He didn’t say it cruelly—just bluntly. Like someone swatting a mosquito of guilt before it bit deeper.
Lin Xuan looked like he’d swallowed something sour, but he fell silent and nodded.