Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Dare You Swear a Heart-Demon Oath?

As the crushing pressure descended again, Bai Yang jerked forward and spat a mouthful of blood. Color drained from his face until it turned a sickly white.

He braced both palms on the ground, veins standing out along his forearms. The killing intent in his eyes was so thick it seemed almost tangible.

If looks could kill, Song Wan Ning would have been shredded into pieces on the spot.

“What? Still not convinced?”

Song Wan Ning lifted a brow. She was about to raise her hand when the Sect Master rushed in and stopped her.

“Junior Sister Song, don’t!”

Ye Chu Xue was already hanging by a thread. They couldn’t afford to let Bai Yang end up crippled—or dead—on top of it.

Song Wan Ning glanced sideways. The coldness in that look made the Sect Master’s heart jolt.

“I’m dealing with my disciple,” she said. “And you want to interfere?”

Publicly rebuffed, the Sect Master’s face darkened further. He forced the anger down and spoke through clenched teeth. “Bai Yang only misspoke in a moment of panic. You’re a Nascent Soul Stage True Lord. Why stoop to arguing with a disciple?”

“He only misspoke?” Song Wan Ning let out a sharp, humorless laugh.

She flicked her hand.

A curtain of water unfurled in midair like a mirror. Ripples smoothed into a clear screen—and on it, Bai Yang’s figure slipped into the Pill Repository Pavilion, moved with practiced familiarity, and stole the pills.

Every motion was plain as day.

The crowd’s expressions shifted in an instant. Bai Yang’s face turned so dark it looked like water could drip from it.

So she had known all along.

She had dug the pit, then waited for him to jump.

“Oh my god—Martial Uncle Bai stole Grandmaster Song’s pills. No wonder Grandmaster Song is furious!”

“Exactly! Who doesn’t know Grandmaster Song always shields her own? She spoils her disciples to the extreme. I’ve never even heard her speak harshly to them!”

“She must’ve been truly enraged this time!”

The disciples whispered, shaking their heads. Bai Yang’s behavior—no matter who it was, no one could stomach it.

He had brought this on himself.

“You saw it, Sect Master.” Song Wan Ning’s gaze dimmed to something shadowed and dangerous. “Bai Yang stole this True Lord’s pills. Don’t tell me I don’t even have the right to deal with him.”

Her lips curved. “Even if I beat him to death, he has to take it.”

With that, she swung her palm toward Bai Yang.

A massive hand of spiritual energy surged into being—vast as a mountain—and rolled forward with irresistible force.

Bai Yang’s pupils shook. He tried to brace, to block, to resist—

He couldn’t.

The invisible palm struck him like a hammer. His body flew, weightless and helpless, before slamming into the ground with a brutal crash.

The Sect Master and the elders instinctively shifted as if to save him—and then stopped.

Song Wan Ning had reason on her side. They had no grounds to interfere.

“Pu—!”

Blood sprayed across the stone.

Bai Yang landed like a kite with its string cut. Several bones snapped with sickening clarity, and the pain hit so hard it tore a scream out of him.

“Aah—!”

He squeezed his eyes shut and clutched his arm, shaking.

Had Master really hit him like this?

He couldn’t believe it.

Then shock curdled into something darker. Hatred, thick and endless, spread through him like poison.

Over a pill.

She would destroy him over a single pill.

This woman had no heart at all.

He might be weak now, but he wouldn’t always be.

One day… one day, Song Wan Ning would fall into his hands.

He forced his eyes open and lifted his head, staring at her with bloodshot, feral hatred.

Song Wan Ning’s mouth curved faintly.

She slapped him again.

Bai Yang was knocked flat. He tried to crawl, to rise, to drag himself upright—and failed, again and again, his body refusing to obey.

“Enough!”

Gu Qing Yuan’s voice cut through the air like steel.

He stepped forward, his expression icy, his gaze filled with accusation as it fixed on Song Wan Ning.

“When did you become like this?” he demanded, cold and ruthless. “Because you’re jealous, you left a fellow disciple to die—then poisoned her. And now you’re this vicious to your own disciple.”

His eyes narrowed, every word sharpened. “Song Wan Ning… you’ve become terrifying.”

That thin, chilly gaze stabbed straight into her heart.

They had driven her to the edge step by step, pushed the Song Family into a dead end—had any of them ever looked at themselves?

She had changed?

Why had she changed?

Her fiancé had turned his heart, then accused her of jealousy and cruelty.

He despised her. Abandoned her. Ruined her.

The disciples she raised had turned their hearts, then called her vicious, poisonous.

They smeared her. Scorned her. Killed her.

A laugh tore out of her.

It started low—then rose, sharp and bright enough to make the skin prickle.

“Hahah…!”

“You think I’m terrifying?” Song Wan Ning stopped laughing as suddenly as she’d begun. A dark smile tugged at her lips. “Gu Qing Yuan, you’re a hypocrite wearing a righteous face. Who are you trying to fool?”

Her voice turned colder with every word. “You’re the one who got yourself a fiancée, then grew romantic feelings for the disciple you raised with your own hands.”

A beat.

Then she bared her teeth. “You did filthy things and still had the nerve to throw mud at me. You’re truly talented at it.”

In her last life, she had suffered because she never fought back with words.

What did it help to rage and cry and make a scene?

It never touched them.

“Hiss—”

“No way… Grandmaster Gu… him?”

The crowd went dead silent.

A master developing romantic feelings for a disciple—

That was taboo.

Staring eyes swung to Gu Qing Yuan, stunned and disbelieving.

“Junior Sister Song!” the Sect Master snapped, panic spiking. “Don’t you dare speak nonsense! You’re trying to ruin Junior Brother Gu!”

Falling for a disciple was already outrageous. If word got out, Gu Qing Yuan’s reputation would be destroyed. Wherever he went, people would spit behind his back.

Jealous whispers in private were one thing—but slander in front of so many disciples?

“Me, speaking nonsense?” Song Wan Ning laughed softly.

Her gaze slid to Gu Qing Yuan’s silent face, her eyes lifting at the corners.

“Then ask him,” she said. “Does he dare swear a Heart-Demon Oath?”

Her voice bit like frost.

“If he dares to lie, then the price will be Ye Chu Xue never waking up again.”

She tilted her head, smile razor-thin. “Let him swear it. See if he dares.”

The pressure in the air tightened.

Gu Qing Yuan’s fingers closed around his long sword. Killing intent spread like weeds.

And yet—

He didn’t swear.

In an instant, everything went so still you could hear a pin drop.

Bai Yang, half-dead on the ground, lifted his head with a jolt, staring at Gu Qing Yuan in disbelief.

Junior Sister Ye’s Master… had that kind of thought about her?

How could that be?

The Sect Master and the elders went pale, too stunned to react.

So everything Song Wan Ning said… was true?

Everyone looked at Gu Qing Yuan now—shock, disappointment, and judgment burning in their eyes.

Gu Qing Yuan closed his eyes.

This secret had gnawed at him until it nearly drove him mad. He had imagined this scene countless times—he just never expected it to happen with Ye Chu Xue on the brink of death.

When he opened his eyes again, his voice was hoarse and hard.

“Have you said enough?” He forced the words out, forcing down the killing intent he wanted to turn on her. “Come back with me now and save her.”