The main hall of the sect buzzed with an energy that felt almost foreign, especially after the recent ambush that had left everyone on edge. A day had passed since Jia Wei Xin's team triumphantly returned from the Forgotten Master's Trial, granting them a much-needed period of rest and recovery. Now, the grand celebration was in full swing—a dazzling display of the sect's resilience, power, and pride.
The air was thick with the scent of burning incense and exotic foods, mingling with the excited chatter of disciples. Banners depicting glorious victories adorned the high ceilings, and the polished stone floor reflected the glow of countless spirit lamps.
From his elevated seat, Elder Hai's voice boomed with practiced ease, his smile wide and seemingly benevolent, though his eyes, ancient as the sect's very stones, held secrets even the brightest spirit lamps couldn't illuminate. "You've brought great honor to the sect, brave disciples!" He raised a goblet of shimmering spirit wine. "May you continue to carry our name high and inspire those who follow." His gaze swept over the crowd, lingering for a fraction longer on Jia Wei Xin, a glint of something almost too intent, as though calculating her worth beyond the obvious.
One by one, the victorious team members were called onto the stage, a shimmering platform bathed in ethereal light. First, Luo Han, stoic and dignified, accepting a blade forged from ancient spirit ore. Then Chen Yu, receiving a set of intricate cultivation scrolls. Mei Lan was presented with a protective amulet that pulsed with a soft, green light. And finally, Yan Ping, who accepted a delicate jade pendant, her movements stiff, her expression strained.
The announcer, a young male disciple with an overly enthusiastic voice, proudly declared, "The Forgotten Master's Trial has been completed! For a hundred years, no team has successfully navigated all its challenges and emerged with the Violet Fireleaf Blossom! This triumph marks a new era for our sect, thanks to the ingenuity and courage of our own Jia Wei Xin!" A thunderous applause erupted, vibrating through the very foundations of the hall.
Jia Wei Xin stepped forward, accepting a small, exquisitely carved wooden box. Inside, nestled on crimson silk, lay a delicate, iridescent stone that shimmered with a shifting pattern of ancient runes. Whispers rippled through the crowd—not only at the rarity of the gift, but at the fact that it was the top prize among all the offerings. The murmurs grew louder when it was revealed that Liu Mo Fei himself had selected it for her, a gesture that carried weight far beyond its surface. Even Elder Hai's lingering gaze suggested there was more to this gift than met the eye—a hidden meaning tied to her lineage, waiting to be unveiled.
As Jia Wei Xin straightened from her bow, her gaze found Liu Mo Fei's across the crowd. For a brief, suspended moment, their eyes locked—his steady, quietly proud, hers tinged with surprise and gratitude. In that silent exchange, something passed between them: a quiet affirmation that he believed in her, that he saw her worth in a way others had yet to understand. Then, as quickly as it had come, the moment slipped away.
She bowed, acknowledging the cheers, but her gaze drifted to Yan Ping, who stood a few paces behind her, rigid and pale.
As the ceremony wound down and the formal pleasantries concluded, Jia Wei Xin made her way to Yan Ping. The older girl's shoulders were hunched, and she seemed to shrink into herself despite the celebratory atmosphere. "Are you alright?" Jia Wei Xin murmured, lowering her voice so only Yan Ping could hear. Yan Ping nodded too quickly, her eyes darting around. "Yes. Just... a little overwhelmed."
But Jia Wei Xin, with her sharp, modern-world eyes, noticed the slight tremble in Yan Ping's hands, the way she kept them tucked behind her back. And then, as Yan Ping shifted, a fleeting glimpse of an angry, purplish bruise on her wrist, partially hidden by her long, flowing sleeve. Her lips, too, seemed a little swollen, almost as if… she'd been slapped. "You fell down?" Jia Wei Xin asked, her tone neutral, almost casual. Yan Ping's eyes widened fractionally before she forced a smile. "Yes, just a clumsy fall on the way back. Nothing to worry about."
The lie hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. Jia Wei Xin's heart clenched. She knew from experience that when people said "nothing to worry about" with that kind of forced cheer, it usually meant everything to worry about. She didn't press the issue further in the crowded hall, merely squeezed Yan Ping's arm reassuringly. "Come find me later," she said, her voice soft but firm. "After everyone's gone."
Hours later, after the last of the revelers had departed and the moon bathed the courtyard in pale silver, Jia Wei Xin led Yan Ping away from prying eyes. They found a secluded corner of the sect gardens, a quiet alcove shaded by ancient spirit trees, their leaves rustling like hushed whispers in the night breeze. "Show me," Jia Wei Xin said quietly, her voice devoid of judgment, only concern.
Tears welled in Yan Ping's eyes, glistening in the moonlight, but she obeyed without hesitation. Slowly, hesitantly, she rolled up the sleeves of her outer robe, revealing faint bruises on her forearms, some purplish, others yellowing. Then, with a shuddering breath, she lifted her inner robe, exposing thin, angry lash marks across her back and shoulders, barely visible under the faint light. They were too uniform to be from a fall, too deliberate.
Jia Wei Xin's breath hitched. Her vision blurred with a sudden, searing rage. "Who did this?" she asked, her voice dangerously low, a stark contrast to the thundering fury roaring within her.
Yan Ping flinched, then whispered, her voice barely audible, "A group of elite students. They… they said I didn't deserve to be on the stage with you. That I didn't deserve any of the rewards. They said I should know my place." She then revealed a chilling detail. "Pa Ti Cia was there. She's the 'head of student welfare' for our dormitory, but she didn't do anything. She just… watched. And after they left, she told me I was lucky it wasn't worse. She said… she was just following Elder Hai's orders."
Jia Wei Xin's fury ignited like wildfire, burning away any remaining calm. "She's the 'head of student welfare'?" she repeated, the words dripping with disbelief and contempt. "She's supposed to protect you, not hurt you or allow others to!" The irony was a bitter taste in her mouth. In her previous life, such a person would be immediately dismissed, perhaps even prosecuted. Here, in a world of spiritual power, where cultivation was everything, the basic principles of human decency seemed to be twisted.
Yan Ping trembled, her fragile composure crumbling. "She's always favored the wealthy and powerful students. She says she's just maintaining order. She only cares about her position and the sect's reputation, not the disciples' well-being."
Jia Wei Xin's voice dropped, ice-cold and laced with an unspoken threat. "This has to end."