Public Trial

What is the world?

It is the first cluster of campfire flames kindled on the wild plains, the most primal of powers; it is the clanking cavalry opening new lands on battlefields and frontiers, the ruler’s domineering faith; it is the great river’s vast flow nurturing towns and villages on both banks, civilization etched by time.

When the great way is followed, the world belongs to the public.

For the myriad cultivators, if one could reach the summit of Cangya and gaze out over a thousand miles, one would truly be able to—look down upon the world with supreme arrogance!

Heaven and earth are vast, divided into five continents — East, West, South, North, and Center — with countless sects and a diversity of practices.

And since one person achieved sainthood two hundred years ago, only Cangya Mountain on the Western Continent has rightfully held the title of the world’s foremost.

From then on there arose the saying “one mountain, three sects; two temples of Buddhism; twelve palaces of the Demon Clan.”

Everyone understood perfectly well: as long as the “Sword Saint” lived, that arrangement would remain as solid as a rock.

One person was enough to influence the whole world’s balance.

The mountain range stretched on without end for a hundred li, mist and clouds vast and indistinct, kites and cranes crying in the air. The six peaks of Cangya each had different earth veins, forms, and spirits. Some were perilously grand, some marvelously elegant and beautiful, some peaceful and remote.

In spiritual cultivation, Xiqian Peak is chief; in martial cultivation, Xihua Peak is supreme.

Today Cangya Mountain has a momentous affair.

Because of this matter, the area in front of Qinghe Hall on the main Xiqian Peak was the opposite of its usual emptiness; from the hall doors out to the square, a dense, dark mass of people pressed together, shoulders brushing, craning their necks to look.

Many disciples rose at dawn to secure an early spot, just to get a place near the front.

The disciples wearing Cangyao’s Taoist robes showed varied expressions, some whispering to each other, speaking in hushed tones for fear of causing a stir.

There were only a handful of people inside the hall.

The vast main hall seemed to have no bounds. Five-foot-square slabs of green jade tiles spread out like a single flawless mirror. The ceiling soared high; twenty immense white jade beams and columns, each requiring three people to encircle, stood in rows along the hall’s sides, intricately carved with reliefs of drifting water and clouds.

At the far end of the hall were six sandalwood grandmaster chairs.

At the center on the west seat sat an elderly man with white beard and hair, his face solemn and commanding without anger. Behind him stood a dainty young maiden in rosy clothes.

On the center east seat was a young man with cold, spare features. Behind him stood a woman exuding fierce, heroic grace.

These were the men of Xi Qian Peak and Xi Hua Peak.

To either side sat two more, the masters of the other four peaks. Behind each stood several handpicked disciples they had brought.

Dozens more stood within the hall; a silk-clad young gentleman was locked in a standoff with ten disciples wearing Cangyao Dao robes.

“The matter hasn’t been properly investigated yet—how can you pass judgment already?”

“Why bother investigating! Isn’t my own experience enough proof?!”

The brocade-clad young noble fanned himself lightly. “Ha, by your logic, today’s arrival of the Sect Leader, my Senior Brother, the various Peak Masters, and all the senior and junior disciples was for nothing. All this trouble and the public trial are merely for show.”

He argued against ten, yet remained calm and collected; in just a few exchanges he had reduced those ten disciples to speechlessness and contradiction.

The elder seated at the head couldn’t help but frown, his white eyebrows knitting slightly.

For some reason, a sudden exclamation rang out in front of the hall, and all the whispered conversations abruptly ceased.

Among the densely packed disciples, a path was spontaneously cleared.

Those arguing inside the hall seemed to notice as well; they all turned their heads to look.

The young man in a black robe with white hair stepped closer. Crossing the broad, tall hall entrance, his expression was cold and composed, his gaze devoid of joy or sorrow.

Everyone drew in a sharp breath.

The main hall fell silent.

Yin Bi was surrounded by onlookers all the way, holding back the urge to roar.

What are you all staring at! What’s wrong with my hair color!!

Even emo-cultivator youths deserve respect! Got it!!

“Junior brother, your hair…”

Entering the hall and meeting Liu Xishuang’s worried eyes, he could only explain, “I’m fine.” After a moment he added, “Senior sister, do not worry.”

…But that look only grew more anxious!

Then a hoarse voice thundered, “By Cangya Mountain and Huafeng’s four disciples, Yin Biyue!”

Like a bell tolling in an empty mountain, the echoes never cease.

His mind suddenly tightened; he abruptly raised his eyes and saw the elder in the western seat, his gaze like lightning striking straight at him!

A master of the Great Vehicle realm, even when suppressing an ounce of pressure, still exerts a heart-stopping force.

Memories of the original body flashed by—the sect leader, Zheng Yangzi.

He bowed properly and said, “Disciple present!”

“On the seventh day of last month, thirty-two disciples testified and appealed. You set up the killing formation ‘Yinghuo Guards the Heart’ in the Purple Mansion secret realm, intending to murder fellow disciples. Do you have anything to say?”

Yin Bi Yue let his gaze sweep over everyone in the hall.

Although this was a public trial, those of low status naturally had no place to speak.

Besides his nominal master, the six peak masters were all present, each accompanied by their trusted disciples.

Their expressions ranged from indifferent to disdainful.

Sitting in the seat of his master was a young man, his gaze cold and unreadable. The five characters “Senior Brother Jun Yu” flashed through his mind in an instant. Behind the young man stood Liu Qishuang, her brow furrowed ever deeper with worry.

Closer to him were ten disciples clad in Cangyao dao robes, eyes blazing with fury as they glared at him — likely ten representatives of the thirty-two who had been endangered in the secret realm.

As for that dandy in brocade, he remained composed and unperturbed. The original body’s memories had not yet registered his identity.

Yin Bi’s heart skipped a beat for an instant. Luomingchuan? Where did Luomingchuan go?

Zheng Yangzi frowned.

The young man said coolly, “No.”

That was a confession.

Those words made many people breathe a sigh of relief as if “the outcome was settled,” and some even snorted softly.

“What is your motive for this act? Do you have any extenuating circumstances? Were you bewitched or acting on someone else’s orders? Such a grave crime should strip you of your cultivation and bar you from entering Cangya for the rest of your life—do you understand?”

Yin Biyue felt anxious. Zheng Yangzi’s line of questioning was clearly just for show; his explanation had very little credibility and lacked sufficient evidence.

That memory was too vague; if he rashly invented reasons he’d only create gaping holes, so he stuck to the persona and said there were none. Now it was too late to act the stoic, long-suffering part—his only remaining fallback was to burst into tears and repent.

The silk-clad young gentleman snapped his folding fan shut and took a few steps forward. He stood in front of him.

Yin Biyue looked him over again.

In the solemn and dignified Cangya the sight was indeed peculiar: a long robe of autumn-moon begonia clusters, a brocaded green jade belt at the waist, and a purple-gold pearl crown on the head.

It was clearly a somewhat flashy ensemble, but on him it felt anything but vulgar or extravagant—instead, it radiated an innate nobility.

When the memory flashed by, Yin Bi almost twitched the corner of his mouth.

The original body, aside from harboring resentment toward the protagonist, had no extra feelings for anyone else.

In my memory there were only simple names like “Senior Brother Jun Yu” and “Second Sister Liu Qishuang,” but when it came to this person…

There was even a modifier!!

“Chatterbox, Fifth Junior Brother, Duan Chongxuan.”

When did Xi Huafeng ever have such eccentric traits!

However, he hadn’t expected that the original person had never said a single word to this man. And now he was even willing to speak up to help him.

Duan Chongxuan was about to say something, but someone spoke faster than him.

“Wait!”

Everyone turned to look.

A handsome young man in a plain-colored Daoist robe, his long hair flowing, expression resolute, entered carrying a sword.

A roar rose up inside and outside the hall, uproarious and tumultuous.

“This… Senior Brother Luo!”

“Why are you carrying a sword… Could it be you’re going to personally punish that Yin fellow?”

“With that outfit, I don’t think so.”

Zhengyangzi knitted his brows fiercely. The pink-robed girl behind him cried out in shock.

Yin Bi watched Luo Mingchuan walk into the hall, brush past him, and keep his eyes straight ahead.

Good timing! We’re counting on you for support!

Luo Mingchuan walked until he was ten steps from Zheng Yangzi, then knelt heavily; a dull thud sounded on the green brick floor.

His voice struck the ground with force: “Disciple has words to say!”

Everyone was stunned by this sudden turn of events.

Zheng Yangzi’s brow twitched suddenly.

With his level of cultivation, he could peer into the workings of fate and even sense impending happenings with keen intuition. He didn’t know what Luo Mingchuan was about to say, but his instinct told him it was absolutely beyond their control.

A very bad premonition.

He shouted in anger with hardly any hesitation, “Shut up! You have no right to speak!”

Luo Mingchuan slammed his head down hard and was about to speak.

Zhengyangzi snapped, “Silence!”

No sooner had the words fallen than the person kneeling before His Highness suddenly fell silent.

Yin Biyue silently lowered her head.

Main character, you’re trying too hard—don’t react so intensely. Just step forward, say a few soft words of plea; the master who treats you like a son will, of course, save face for you…

Outside the hall it was like boiling water, countless disciples jostling to poke their heads inside.

“Whoa! Senior Brother Luo, why are you kneeling!”

“Don’t, don’t, don’t, you’re blocking me…”

The disciples of the Enforcement Hall guarding the hall scrambled to stop people.

Countless pairs of eyes in the hall fell upon the sect leader Zheng Yangzi and Luo Mingchuan.

Many people felt a secret unease: what did the sect master mean by this? Clearly Luo Mingchuan had something to say—could there be more to this matter?

Looking again at the youth who was the chief disciple of Xihua Peak, his face remained expressionless, his emotions unreadable.

Zheng Yangzi took a deep breath and waved his hand. “The verdict will be announced tomorrow; we will certainly give everyone an explanation. Peak masters and the disciples of Xihua Peak, stay behind—everyone else, disperse.”

This attitude clearly meant they were about to close the doors and speak in private.

The disciples standing behind the various peak masters politely took their leave one after another.

The few who had earlier quarreled with Duan Chongxuan looked at Luo Mingchuan kneeling in the hall, and one of them stepped forward saying, “We trust Brother Luo!” Then they too withdrew.

Duan Chongxuan stepped back behind Jun Yu. The law-enforcement disciples dispersed the onlookers around the hall; the tall, wide doors of the hall thudded once and closed heavily, separating the two worlds inside and outside the hall.

The clamor outside the hall gradually subsided. All the speculations and discussions finally fell silent.

Yin Bi Yue looked over one by one.

What remained now was, for the most part, the core of Cangya’s power and strength.

But the protagonist really did win people’s hearts — those disciples, not to mention faith in the Sect Leader or in Xihua Peak, they believed in Luo Mingchuan; tsk tsk.

Those few convenient senior brothers of mine were truly formidable; not a one of them left, not even that little Daoist boy stirred… oh, that seemed to be Senior Brother Jun Yu’s sword-bearing attendant?

Zheng Yangzi lifted the gag order and said in a deep voice, “What do you have to say?”

Luo Mingchuan knelt in the hall and glanced back once.

The green jade tiles reflected the youth’s upright figure. Thin lips pressed slightly, white hair and cold eyes.

The restless emotions of these past days inexplicably settled into calm.

No matter the outcome, he knew he would not regret it.

Everyone in the hall heard the resounding sentence,

“I am willing to take the punishment in place of Brother Yin!”

Author’s note: There’s a dramatic twist in the next chapter~