Chapter 62

Chapter 62: Ling Family Stirring Trouble, Everyone Pressing In

Ye Chu Xue went rigid. A heartbeat later, everything clicked into place.

[She was the one who sent us to the auction house in the first place.]

Now the money was spent, the pills were gone, and her storage ring had disappeared.

A trap.

Song Wan Ning had led them by the nose from the start.

“It was you!”

Ye Chu Xue couldn’t hold back. She raised her hand and pointed straight at Song Wan Ning, voice sharp enough to cut.

“It was you, wasn’t it? You did this on purpose. That demonic cultivator was arranged by you too, wasn’t he?”

“You just didn’t want to save Master. You were playing us the whole time, weren’t you?”

“Song Wan Ning—how can you be so despicable?”

She was practically screaming.

In that instant, Ye Chu Xue realized how the roles between them had shifted.

In the past, Song Wan Ning was always the one shouting first. Always the one who lost control.

[But now… everything is upside down.]

Ye Chu Xue still couldn’t restrain her fury. The moment she saw Song Wan Ning, her chest tightened until it felt like she couldn’t breathe.

Before anyone could stop her, Song Wan Ning lifted her hand and slapped her—smoothly, as if she’d done it a hundred times.

Already weak, Ye Chu Xue flew sideways. If the Sect Master hadn’t caught her, she would’ve slammed into the ground and passed out.

“Master—True Lord Song!” An Ze’s eyes turned red. “What right do you have to hit her? Just because Senior Sister Ye told the truth and tore off your mask?”

He looked like he wanted to lunge forward and tear Song Wan Ning apart.

He already resented Song Wan Ning. Now that hatred burrowed into his bones.

Song Wan Ning relied on her cultivation to humiliate them at will, treating lives like dirt. The fact that he’d once had a Master like her was the greatest shame of his life.

The Sect Master’s face darkened. The two elders behind him spoke in support, adding their weight to his anger.

Aside from Bai Yang—who stayed silent—everyone seemed to reject and condemn Song Wan Ning. Even the shopkeeper’s expression soured as he watched.

[These people have gone too far.]

[Back when they begged Master for help, they didn’t act like this. Now they want to kick the ladder away?]

He swallowed his anger, face grim. In his heart, he was deeply relieved that Master had been sharp enough not to fall into their trap again.

Song Wan Ning’s tone was icy. “How ridiculous. Ye Chu Xue framed and slandered me without a shred of evidence. She insulted me and showed no respect to her elders.” Her gaze flicked to Ye Chu Xue like a blade. “Shouldn’t she be slapped?”

She glanced down at her own hand, as if mildly inconvenienced.

Lately, slapping people had almost become a reflex.

[That just proves how much these people love to invite trouble.]

As for An Ze… she didn’t even feel like wasting a slap on him anymore.

Harmless, but annoying. A clown.

And the Sect Master…

At the thought, a faint smile tugged at Song Wan Ning’s lips.

There were too many people she hated.

They would have to line up.

She lifted her eyes lazily. “Slapping her is going easy. If it were before, I’d have killed her to vent my anger. Sect Master—don’t you agree?”

She wiped her hand with open disgust.

“You—” Ye Chu Xue shook with rage, veins nearly bursting. She opened her mouth to curse, but the Sect Master shot her a warning look, cutting her off.

As much as he disliked Song Wan Ning, she wasn’t wrong—without evidence, Ye Chu Xue had no right to throw accusations around.

He forced his expression into something resembling calm.

“Martial Niece Ye was overly worried about Junior Brother Gu’s safety and spoke rashly. Junior Sister Song, please don’t hold it against her.”

Then his eyes sharpened.

“However, about the accusation of sheltering a demonic cultivator—Junior Sister Song, you need to give an explanation. With this many people watching, you can’t just brush it off.”

“And Martial Niece Ye’s storage ring was stolen, her pills are gone. Your auction house must give an answer.”

“Yes, Sect Master.” Ye Chu Xue clutched her chest, voice turning soft as if she’d been wronged. “My storage ring is gone too.”

It was what she cared about most. Even if they never caught that demonic cultivator, the ring had to come back.

She lowered her lashes, reddened her eyes, and turned her silent accusation onto Song Wan Ning.

[Only by looking weak can I win sympathy.]

It worked. Some of the onlookers began to frown at Song Wan Ning, muttering that she bullied others with her strength.

An Ze’s heart twisted. He surged forward again.

“True Lord Song, hand over the demonic cultivator from your auction house right now. Dragging this out won’t help.”

Before Song Wan Ning could answer, a new voice cut in from the doorway—flippant, dripping with malice.

“Tsk, tsk. A business under the Song Family, and you’re sheltering a demonic cultivator? Could it be the Song Family has shady dealings with the Demon Clan?”

The words turned the air colder.

Song Wan Ning looked up.

An elder from the Ling Family had arrived—Ling Wu Shuang.

He was in the early Nascent Soul Stage. Though more than three hundred years old, his face was polished jade, his bearing elegant, as if he were a young man in his twenties.

His expression was mocking, and the malice in his eyes was undisguised.

The Ling Family and the Song Family had been at odds for years. Their businesses competed everywhere—if it wasn’t open conflict, it was endless petty clashes.

In her previous life, when the Song Family had been slaughtered, the Ling Family hadn’t been absent.

A flicker of killing intent flashed through Song Wan Ning—then vanished.

That familiar face dragged blood-soaked memories to the surface, sharp enough to cut.

The shopkeeper sensed the shift and coughed lightly, grounding her.

Song Wan Ning forced a thin smile. “Ye Chu Xue has no brain and talks nonsense. Are you the same, True Lord Ling? You want to toss a monstrous charge onto my Song Family just because it suits you?”

Her tone sharpened. “I know the Ling Family has been losing out to the Song Family in business lately, but there’s no need to vent your frustration on us.”

“Hmph. True or false—anyone can talk.” Ling Wu Shuang strode into the room, expression cooling further. “Right and wrong will be clear once True Lord Song hands the person over.”

Up close, his face looked even uglier.

[That damned Song Wan Ning—she’s actually advanced to late Nascent Soul Stage?]

[How long has it even been?]

He’d been stuck at early Nascent Soul Stage for decades with no movement. Why did this wretched human cultivator get to sail through everything so smoothly?

Jealousy and hatred festered, and his words naturally tilted toward Ye Chu Xue.

With so many people backing her, Ye Chu Xue felt emboldened. A vicious glint flashed through her eyes.

[That idiot Song Wan Ning.]

[By admitting the auction house belongs to the Song Family, she didn’t just hurt herself—she dragged the Song Family into it too.]

[As stupid as ever.]

[Now let’s see how she denies it.]

“Yes, hand him over!”

“Hand him over!”

“Hand over the demonic cultivator!”

The shouting rose again, pressing in from all sides.

Bai Yang—silent until now—finally stepped forward.

On one side was the one he loved. On the other was his Master.

Torn, he remembered Master’s earlier concern for him and chose to speak.