Chapter 65

Chapter 65: Erasing the Divine Soul Imprint

“Please, I beg you, give me back my storage ring.”

“True Lord Song is a Nascent Soul True Lord, yet she snatches a disciple’s storage ring. Isn’t that ridiculously overbearing?”

“Exactly! It’s beneath her dignity!”

“They can even locate it, and she still won’t admit it. She probably didn’t expect them to have a backup plan, did she?”

“…”

Finger-pointing spread through the crowd like sparks in dry grass. Whispered accusations piled up until they became a roar.

Almost everyone believed Ye Chu Xue.

If she claimed she had a tracking sense, then it must be real. Otherwise, how could a mere Foundation Establishment cultivator dare confront a Nascent Soul True Lord head-on?

The moment the words “tracking sense” were spoken, the scales tipped. Not only the onlookers—even the Sect Master and the two elders looked convinced. Even Bai Yang’s expression wavered with a flicker of doubt.

Junior Sister Ye wasn’t the type to make wild accusations.

Could it be… that Master really had taken her storage ring?

“Junior Sister Song, hurry up and take out the storage ring.” The Sect Master seized the moment, straightening as if he had finally found leverage. “We’re all fellow disciples. Hand it over, apologize to Martial Niece Ye, and we’ll let this go.”

His tone turned “kind,” dripping with false concern. “Don’t let this blow up. It will damage your reputation.”

“Yes, Junior Sister Song,” one elder added quickly, eager to smooth things over—at her expense. “Let’s not make this too ugly. We’re all family, after all.”

“Exactly. We can resolve it privately,” the other elder chimed in.

It was as if the verdict had already been written. They spoke like the ring was already in Song Wan Ning’s sleeve, like she only needed to be forced into admitting it.

Song Wan Ning’s gaze swept across the faces surrounding her. Suspicion stared back from every pair of eyes. It would have been laughable if it weren’t so familiar.

It was always like this.

As long as Ye Chu Xue spoke, everyone believed. They would rush forward to accuse Song Wan Ning, condemn her, provoke her—then stand back and watch for her to snap, waiting to enjoy her downfall.

And every time, she used to scramble to prove herself… only to walk straight into the trap. In the end, she broke herself and hurt no one but her own pride.

That was exactly why she had gotten rid of the storage ring.

Even if she denied it, these people would still decide she’d done it.

In her previous life, she had taken the blame for countless things. This time… she might as well let them believe what they wanted.

Song Wan Ning exhaled slowly, as if steadying herself under a heavy injustice. “Martial Niece Ye,” she said, voice low and strained, “how can you wrong me like this?”

She lifted her chin. The light caught the faint red in her eyes, but her expression stayed stubborn, wounded, proud—perfect.

“I’m no saint,” she continued, “but I’ve always been clear about grudges and debts. If I did it, I would admit it. But you can’t smear me and then force me to confess.”

She turned her face slightly away, letting the shadow hide the curl of her mouth. Playing weak—who couldn’t do that?

“We’re fellow disciples,” she said, letting disappointment weigh each word, “yet none of you trust me. How chilling.”

“Master!” Bai Yang’s voice cut through the murmurs, sharp with panic.

It was the first time he had ever seen Master look like this—wronged, cornered, forced to defend herself like a criminal. Something clenched hard in his chest.

Master wasn’t someone who lied. There had to be something else.

He stepped forward, shoulders squared, gaze fixed on Ye Chu Xue. “Junior Sister Ye, could you have sensed it wrong? Master never lies. If she had done it, she would have admitted it long ago!”

Song Wan Ning might be overbearing and willful, but she had her own principles. She would never stoop to stealing in secret.

“Senior Brother Bai—”

Ye Chu Xue stared at him, stunned, as if he had slapped her.

He believed Song Wan Ning?

After everything?

“My storage ring is on her!” Ye Chu Xue snapped, her composure cracking. “Don’t let her fool you!”

The moment those words left her mouth, Song Wan Ning’s fingers closed on the talisman hidden in her sleeve.

A signal—silent, precise.

Across the room, the black-market shopkeeper’s lips lifted into a faint smile. With a lazy flick of her hand, she erased the spiritual imprint on the storage ring.

One was a Nascent Soul cultivator. The other had only just reached Foundation Establishment.

Erasing an imprint was laughably easy.

The shopkeeper opened the ring, brows rising. So it was true—the person who sold the information hadn’t lied. This really was the storage ring of the Heavenly Dao’s favored child.

And now…

It was hers.

In the same instant the imprint vanished, Ye Chu Xue convulsed and spat out a mouthful of blood. Her face turned paper-white. Her breath hitched, her spirit visibly sagging.

“My storage ring—!”

Her cry broke into a gasp.

Then she collapsed.

“Senior Sister Ye!” An Ze caught her before she hit the ground, voice shaking with panic. “Senior Sister Ye, what’s wrong? Don’t scare me!”

The Sect Master and Bai Yang both surged forward. The Sect Master checked Ye Chu Xue’s condition, then stiffened as if ice water had been poured down his spine.

“This is bad.” His voice went hoarse. “Her soul is badly injured. The soul imprint on the storage ring… it’s been erased!”

His expression darkened until it looked like soot. Ye Chu Xue’s old injury wasn’t even healed, and now her soul had taken another heavy blow.

Misfortune stacked on misfortune.

Would it damage her future?

Bai Yang’s heart sank. He tightened his grip on Ye Chu Xue’s hand, then hurriedly pulled several pills from his storage ring and fed them to her one by one, jaw clenched with helpless worry.

Song Wan Ning let the scene play out, then sighed softly—so softly it sounded like sorrow.

“See?” she said, spreading her hands slightly. “I’ve been standing right here, with all of you watching my every move. How could I possibly have done anything to her storage ring?”

Her gaze swept the crowd again, cool beneath the gentle tone. “You’d rather believe Ye Chu Xue’s one-sided words than believe me. It’s chilling.”

Then she turned to the Sect Master, and the softness sharpened into something bright and cruel.

“And Sect Master,” she said calmly, “I told you long ago you’re blind and unfit to lead a sect. With you guiding the Heaven-Questioning Sect, it will only decline step by step.”

Regret and sadness sat on her face like a mask—yet every word she spoke cut deeper than the last. The contempt in her eyes was enough to set people’s blood on fire.

“Song Wan Ning!” The Sect Master’s chest heaved.

But this time, he truly had no defense. Everyone had seen it. His certainty, his swagger, his public pressure—then Ye Chu Xue collapsing and the truth slapping him across the face.

Song Wan Ning tilted her head, eyes widening as if newly surprised. “What? Are the Sect Master and the two elders going to apologize to me?”

She covered her mouth with a delicate hand, mock-innocent. “I suppose so. After all, you first accused me of hiding a demonic cultivator, and then you accused me of stealing someone’s treasure. You’ve done terrible damage to my reputation.”

Her lips curved. “You were the ones who said it first. If someone apologizes, we can drop it—because we’re family. Right?”

She smiled sweetly.

The Sect Master and the two elders went from green to white with rage.

And they couldn’t refute a single word.

The laughter and whispers from the crowd turned sharp, spinning quickly toward Ye Chu Xue.

“Damn it—so she lied to all of us?”

“She said she could sense the ring on True Lord Song. So it was all fake?”

“Used us like stepping-stones, didn’t she?”

“So this is the Heaven-Questioning Sect’s so-called core disciple?”