Chapter 3: Apology in Person
Yu Zhao narrowed her eyes as she watched Fang Cheng Lang approach, a wave of confusion washing over her.
They often say the eldest brother is akin to a father. For Yu Zhao, Fang Cheng Lang had been both a paternal figure and a mentor.
Master Qing Yan had taken her under his wing, but soon after, he retreated into deep seclusion due to pressing matters. During those formative years, Fang Cheng Lang stepped in, guiding her through every significant milestone—from her first breath of Qi and her first written word to her initial spell practice and her foundational cultivation.
While she held Master Qing Yan in high regard—almost with a sense of reverence and fear—it was Fang Cheng Lang she depended on entirely, placing her trust in him without reservation.
However, as his attentions began to shift away from her, Yu Zhao found herself grappling with anxiety. Desperate to regain his approval, she molded herself into what he believed a young girl in their sect should be. He advocated for quiet grace, so she curbed her naturally spirited demeanor, stifling her laughter and playfulness. He preached the importance of diligent cultivation, so she devoted extra hours to intense, solitary training. He insisted on self-reliance, pushing her to shoulder her burdens alone without seeking solace or support.
She strived to embody the ideal junior sister, conforming to Fang Cheng Lang’s vision, only to overhear him praising Ye Cong Xin for her authenticity and simplicity.
How absurd it seemed!
With a slow, deliberate rise, Yu Zhao made her way towards the light where Fang Cheng Lang stood, only to pass him by without a second glance. This time, she was done chasing!
Caught off guard, Fang Cheng Lang’s features tightened in a frown, mistaking her indifference for lingering resentment. He sighed, blaming himself for her supposed rudeness. “Little Six is still young, and having grown up without parents, perhaps I’ve neglected some aspects of her upbringing,” he mused, planning a period of self-reflection once back at the sect.
Meanwhile, Yu Zhao had already left the confines of the Black Prison. The harsh sunlight greeted her, momentarily blinding her, and she hesitated. Squinting against the glare, she discerned her path and headed towards Lone Moon Peak.
Fang Cheng Lang, noticing her departure, attempted to call out but saw her quicken her pace. He hurried after her, and soon the majestic silhouette of Lone Moon Peak loomed ahead. A large crowd had assembled at its base, among them a distinctly noticeable man and woman.
The man, Lan Zi Yu, carried a sharp, handsome look with bright eyes and a subtle smile that hinted at a carefree spirit. Beside him, the woman in a goose-yellow dress with flowing sleeves and twin buns exuded a gentle charm, her smile sweet and inviting.
Yu Zhao stopped, her gaze intense and inscrutable.
“Senior Brother Lan Zi Yu. Junior Sister Cong Xin. Here we are again,” she thought.
“What, did a trip to the Black Prison rob you of your manners?” Lan Zi Yu teased, arching an eyebrow. His remark elicited a wave of sneers from the crowd.
“Has she gone mute?”
“Too ashamed to show her face, perhaps?”
“Yu Zhao? Ashamed? She’s too thick-skinned for that! She’s just putting on a show!”
The taunting continued until Ye Cong Xin intervened, her voice cutting through the mockery. “Enough, everyone!” She turned to Yu Zhao, her expression laced with concern. “Sixth Senior Sister, I’m so sorry. I should have intervened with Master that day. It’s my fault you were hurt.”
If the circumstances were different, Yu Zhao might have admired Ye Cong Xin’s performance—it was flawless, convincingly innocent. Only someone with Yu Zhao’s past life experience could see through such a well-crafted facade.
Trailing just behind, Fang Cheng Lang’s face drained of color as he recalled the incident—a day Yu Zhao had suffered greatly. Guilt washed over him for his previous oversight. Rushing to her side, he grasped her wrist, his voice filled with panic. “Junior Sister, why didn’t you say you were injured? How are you feeling? Do you need any medicine?”
In his distress, he reverted to the familiar term of endearment used before Ye Cong Xin’s arrival—back when Yu Zhao was the only junior sister at Lone Moon Peak.
Ye Cong Xin’s grip tightened, her face momentarily freezing as frustration flared within her. She had intended to embarrass Yu Zhao by reminding everyone of the incident with the Master, but instead, it seemed to draw unexpected sympathy towards Yu Zhao. Apparently, even long-term companionship with a pet could foster some fondness. Determined, she realized she needed to intensify her efforts.
Yu Zhao, maintaining her composure, did not even glance at Fang Cheng Lang as she effortlessly slipped her hand from his grasp. Turning to Ye Cong Xin with a serene smile, she said, “Thank you for your concern, Junior Sister. I’m perfectly fine. Actually, I owe a debt of gratitude to the Master; his discipline was a harsh but necessary awakening.
Past mistakes are like the death of yesterday, and future changes are like the birth of a new day. I’ve moved on.”
The crowd exchanged puzzled looks.
What was Yu Zhao implying? Had she truly moved past her grievances?
Lan Zi Yu broke the silence with a sneer, his lips curling into a disdainful smile. “It’s heartening to see you’ve come to such a realization. Since you’ve embraced this new understanding, why not apologize to Junior Sister Cong Xin right here in front of everyone? It would certainly affirm your newfound perspective.”
Lan Zi Yu harbored no illusions about Yu Zhao’s sincerity. He had always seen her as a manipulative figure, who despite her outward niceness, harbored spiteful intentions. Ye Cong Xin had been her victim on multiple occasions. He saw this as an opportunity for Yu Zhao to make amends publicly, essentially seeking justice for Ye Cong Xin.
The crowd echoed his sentiment with increasing fervor.
“Apologize! We don’t believe your empty words; we want an apology!”
“Apologize to Junior Sister Cong Xin!”
“Apologize! Apologize!”
The chants coalesced into a thunderous demand, reverberating across the area. Disciples from the Five Elements Sect, drawn by the uproar, began to gather. The crowd swelled around her.
Yu Zhao stood at the center, the weight of countless stares bearing down on her, reminiscent of the day she met her end.
On that fateful day, she had finally unraveled Ye Cong Xin’s secret. Curiosity had always nagged at her about how Ye Cong Xin, with merely average aptitude, had ascended so rapidly in their cultivation ranks, achieving the Divine Transformation stage at an unusually young age. The truth was chilling: Ye Cong Xin had bargained with a demon, gaining the power to siphon the fortunes of others to bolster her own capabilities. Her Master, her fellow senior brothers, and many other gifted cultivators across the Tianyuan Continent had unwittingly become her sacrifices.
Yu Zhao had believed that exposing this dark secret would unmask Ye Cong Xin’s true character to everyone. Yet, the reaction was not what she had anticipated. No one was willing to accept the truth; instead, they accused her of slandering Ye Cong Xin.
Her own third senior brother, Su Ming, had even declared his willingness to sacrifice his fortune for Ye Cong Xin, claiming that Yu Zhao’s heart harbored more malice than Ye Cong Xin ever could. Ultimately, Yu Zhao met her demise under her Master’s sword, an act declared necessary to purify the sect.
Following her death, her body was obliterated by Ye Cong Xin’s fervent followers, leaving nothing but dust. Ye Cong Xin, much like today, had stood amidst the crowd, projecting an aura of innocence and pity, as if Yu Zhao’s downfall was a consequence of her own actions.
Yu Zhao’s smile broadened.
Apologize?
Certainly, she would apologize.
She would place Ye Cong Xin on the highest pedestal, only to observe how her very supporters would topple from their heights, crumbling into nothing more than dust beneath her feet!