After changing to the ruthless way, the brothers cried and begged for forgiveness chapter 12

Chapter 12: Misunderstood

This novel is translated and hosted on BCatranslation

Atop the Lone Moon Peak, the crisp air seemed to carry voices with it, swirling around the ancient stones and sturdy pines.

“Senior Brother? Senior Brother?” Ye Cong Xin’s voice pierced the silence, breaking Fang Cheng Lang’s deep reverie.

Startled, Fang Cheng Lang turned towards her, offering an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Junior Sister. I was lost in thought and didn’t hear you. What were you saying?”

Ye Cong Xin pouted, her gaze dropping to her toes. “Senior Brother, do you not want to talk to me anymore?”

“Of course not,” Fang Cheng Lang replied softly, his tone gentle.

A moment of silence followed, filled only by the whisper of the wind. Ye Cong Xin muttered, not quite meeting his eyes, “Then why have you been so distant whenever we talk these days?”

Fang Cheng Lang found himself at a loss, unable to articulate the turmoil inside him.

Ye Cong Xin, still looking down, didn’t see his conflicted expression. She anxiously tightened her grip on her skirt, the fabric twisting between her fingers.

After a heavy silence, Fang Cheng Lang hesitated, grappling with his thoughts. “Junior Sister, have you noticed anything unusual about Sixth Sister lately?”

Lifting her innocent face, Ye Cong Xin shook her head. “Sixth Sister has never really liked me, so we seldom talk. Why? Is something wrong?”

Internally, she sneered, aware of more than she let on. Since Yu Zhao had returned from the Black Prison, she’d been distant and reserved, especially with her senior brothers.

Fang Cheng Lang sighed inwardly, disappointed in himself for only now addressing the change. Last night, instead of his usual meditative practices for cultivation, he had stayed awake, reflecting on recent occurrences and Yu Zhao’s altered demeanor.

He remembered how Yu Zhao used to smile—a bright, infectious curve that lit up her eyes like crescent moons and filled them with sparkling joy. Those smiles had been a source of happiness for everyone. But recently, her smiles had vanished, replaced by a constant look of fatigue and worry. Her presence had become a shadow of her former cheerfulness.

His own feelings towards her had also shifted inexplicably. Her voice, once melodious, now seemed grating; her silence, previously peaceful, now felt dull. He found himself unfairly critical of everything she did.

Fang Cheng Lang was painfully aware of his harshness towards Yu Zhao. She had been like a sister to him, someone he had nurtured and cared for. The guilt of his changed behavior weighed heavily on him, and he admitted softly, “I’m not a very good Senior Brother.”

“Don’t say that, Senior Brother!” Ye Cong Xin stood abruptly, her voice filled with agitation. “You’re the best Senior Brother anyone could ask for. I came to Master Qing Yan because I admired him, but also because I wanted a Senior Brother like you. I was so envious of Sixth Sister for having your attention.”

Her emotions surged, triggering a violent cough that flushed her pale face. Fang Cheng Lang quickly helped her to sit and handed her a glass of water, his expression a mix of concern and sorrow.

Ye Cong Xin, tears brimming in her eyes, refused to calm down until Fang Cheng Lang promised never to doubt his worth again. Only then did a small, tearful smile break through her distress.

….

At the Treasure Pavilion, the air was thick with tension as Yu Zhao faced off against Su Ming. The entire hall was eerily quiet, with every spectator holding their breath, watching the drama unfold.

Su Ming’s face was a mask of fury, his jaw clenched tightly. He couldn’t believe Yu Zhao was making such a fuss over a few spirit stones. To corner him in public over such a trivial matter seemed petty and harsh. In the confines of the Five Elements Sect, he might have scolded her openly, but here, under the scrutinizing eyes of the crowd and in the presence of Zhou Jin Yue, he felt compelled to bite back his anger to maintain his dignity.

“Third Senior Brother, remember that returning what you borrow is a virtue,” Yu Zhao stated icily, her voice cutting through the silence. Her posture was rigid, signaling her readiness to cut ties if pushed further.

Despite being only thirteen, Yu Zhao stood confidently, almost level with Su Ming’s shoulder. Looking down at her, Su Ming could see the calm resolve on her face. Her expression was impassive, her composure uncharacteristic of someone her age, as if she had aged years overnight. This sudden maturity unnerved Su Ming, yet he reminded himself that no matter how she changed, she remained his junior sister.

Clearing his throat, Su Ming attempted to defuse the situation. “Yu Zhao, let’s discuss this back at the sect. There’s no need to make a scene here.”

However, his plea only seemed to exhaust Yu Zhao’s patience further. She glanced over to a group standing by the stairs—mostly rogue cultivators who depended on temporary jobs and were easily swayed by generosity like Su Ming’s.

Her gaze then shifted to a middle-aged man at the back of the crowd, dressed like a scholar. “Manager Liu, has my Third Senior Brother purchased any valuable items from your store recently? Were those transactions properly recorded?”

Manager Liu, the shopkeeper, visibly tensed. Climbing to his position had taught him the delicacy of such situations, especially involving disciples of Master Qing Yan. Choosing his words carefully, he stammered, “No, he hasn’t made any purchases yet.”

This wasn’t a lie. Su Ming had shown interest in a beautifully crafted magic item but had yet to pay for it, leaving it still in the store’s possession upstairs.

Yu Zhao nodded slightly. “That’s for the best. Perhaps it’s better if that item remains a treasure of your store.”

Manager Liu, sweating under the pressure, pulled out a handkerchief and nervously wiped his brow, casting a pleading look at Su Ming.

Caught off guard by Yu Zhao’s firm stance, Su Ming’s temper flared. In the past, he had restrained himself to merely flicking Yu Zhao’s forehead when she misbehaved—a gesture she would respond to with a smile, quickly mending their quarrel. Now, his hand instinctively raised in anger.

But this time was different. Yu Zhao recoiled in fear, her arms protectively crossed in front of her, her usual resilience replaced by apprehension.

This novel is translated and hosted on BCatranslation

The crowd reacted with a mix of shock and disdain. The rogue cultivators exchanged looks of contempt, surprised to see the respected Su Ming reveal such a volatile side.

Zhou Jin Yue was incensed. Seeing Su Ming’s reflexive aggression laid bare the possibility of past abuses that Yu Zhao might have endured. She stepped forward, placing herself between them, her expression one of fierce protectiveness. “Su Ming, I warn you, if you dare to touch Yu Zhao again, I’ll break your hand.”

Su Ming, staring at his raised hand as if it belonged to someone else, felt a surge of injustice. “I… I didn’t even touch her!”

His protest hung in the air, unheard over the murmurs of the crowd, each person forming their judgments. The standoff at the Treasure Pavilion had exposed more than just a dispute over spirit stones; it had unveiled the complexities and strains of their relationships.

 

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