Martial Arts Secret Realm: Only I Can Know the Plot?

"Sun Fan...Young Master Sun..." His voice trembled. "What...what do you want? Just tell me. Your future? An official position? Money? I'll give you as much as you want. Just let me go this time—"

"Lord Ling," Sun Fan interrupted him, "Do you think I did this for these reasons?"

"Then why?" Ling Tuisi's voice suddenly became shrill. "You're a scholar, you've done me no wrong, why would you do this to me?"

Sun Fan did not answer immediately.

He remained silent for a moment before speaking, "Lord Ling, I'll ask you one more time: now that things have come to this, do you regret what you did?"

Do I regret it? Maybe!

Ling Tuisi wept bitterly, slapping himself in the face while pleading for mercy.

"I deserve to die, I am guilty, I shouldn't have treated Master Ding like this. I know you must be trying to get justice for Master Ding because of what happened to him."

"Master Ding, please forgive me! It was my fault, I was so blind to your worth. But I am Shuanghua's father after all. For her sake, please forgive me!"

Looking at him like this, Sun Fan felt only a faint sadness.

He actually knows everything.

Even now, he is still trying to find a way to survive.

As long as there is a way out, there is hope for a turnaround.

Sun Fan did all this for Ding Dian, who was hiding in the shadows.

Let him see clearly what kind of beast this person really is.

"Lord Ling, as a man of the martial world, you should at least maintain some decorum."

"Don't put on an act for others. No one can save you. You've ended up in this situation because of your own choices."

Sun Fan's voice was very calm, as if he were talking about something that had nothing to do with him.

"Tell me, should you hate me, or should you hate yourself?"

Ling Tuisi opened his mouth, but couldn't utter a single word.

Sun Fan didn't look at him again, turned around and disappeared into the night.

At daybreak, the city of Jingzhou had changed.

Shen Zhaowu, the second master of the Shen family, led the garrison soldiers to surround the prefectural government office. The assistant prefect personally stepped forward and read out Ling Tuisi's charges—corruption, disregard for human life, setting up a private court, colluding with bandits, a total of seventeen major crimes, each supported by conclusive witness testimony and physical evidence.

When Ling Tuisi was brought back from outside the city, the streets were already full of people.

He was dressed in prison clothes, his hair was disheveled, and his wrists were bandaged. He was escorted by two soldiers as they walked step by step through the main streets of Jingzhou City.

On the roadside, some people threw rotten vegetable leaves, some spat, and some cursed "corrupt officials."

Ling Tuisi lowered his head and remained silent.

He didn't dare to look up.

Because he was afraid of seeing that face in the crowd—that scarred face that had once called him "Dad".

He didn't know if Ling Shuanghua had come.

He didn't know if she would come.

But he knew that from now on, he would no longer have the right to call her "daughter".

The prison.

It was the same cell.

The innermost room.

When Ling Tuisi was pushed in, his body stiffened abruptly.

He recognized the place.

This is Guan Dingdian's place.

The tiny window in the wall was still there, letting in a sliver of pale light. The ground was covered with dry grass, and on the grass were dark red stains—blood, the blood left by prisoners who had been beaten over the years.

"Go in!" The jailer shoved him.

Ling Tuisi stumbled and fell into the cell, landing on the ground.

He got up and glanced back.

The cell door slammed shut.

The chains rattled.

The jailer pulled out the key, hung it on his waist, and walked away without looking back.

Ling Tuisi sat on the hay, staring blankly at the window.

He suddenly remembered something.

He was in this very cell when he imprisoned Ding Dian.

He had iron chains pierce Ding Dian's collarbone, thus crippling his martial arts skills.

He would come to interrogate me every few days, each time bringing instruments of torture.

He thought that this would force out the secret of Liancheng Jue.

Three years.

Three years.

Ding Dian didn't say anything.

He thought Ding Dian was a tough nut to crack, and that Ding Dian was just stubborn.

Now he understands.

Ding Dian wasn't just being stubborn.

It's a hard heart.

No amount of torture can break a person who cares about others.

And what about himself?

What's on his mind?

Silver? Official position? Treasure?

Ling Tuisi lowered his head and looked at his hands.

These hands have wielded soft swords, signed official documents, accepted bribes, and beaten prisoners.

Now, these hands can't even lift a teacup.

He suddenly laughed.

The laugh was very soft, like a pebble rolling down one's throat.

As I laughed, tears started to fall.

That afternoon, at the Shen Family Villa.

Sun Fan sat at the stone table in the courtyard, with a pot of tea in front of him.

Ding Dian stood by the pond, watching the fish in the water.

Neither of them spoke.

After a long silence, Ding Dian finally spoke: "What crime will he be convicted of?"

Sun Fan knew who he was talking about.

"According to the law, he should be beheaded," he said. "But whether the imperial court will actually execute him is uncertain. After all, he was once a prefect, and killing a prefect would not save face for the imperial court."

"What will happen to him?"

"Exile." Sun Fan picked up his teacup, took a slow sip, and said, "Exile to Lingnan, or even further away. Never to return in this lifetime."

Ding Dian remained silent for a while.

"Does Shuangmei know?"

"I know." Sun Fan put down his teacup. "She didn't say anything."

Ding Dian lowered his head and looked at the fish in the water.

The fish are swimming, circling around and around, tireless.

"She still has him in her heart as her father." Ding Dian's voice was very soft.

"That's her father," Sun Fan said. "No matter what he did, he's still her father. She may not forgive him, but she can't pretend he doesn't exist."

Ding Dian did not speak.

He turned around and looked at Sun Fan.

"The soul-summoning technique you used at Qingxu Temple that day—the 'Celestial Masters' way—was it real?"

Sun Fan looked at him and suddenly smiled.

What do you think?

Ding Dian stared at him for a long time, then smiled.

"You little rascal, you even fooled me."

Sun Fan did not deny it.

That was certainly not some kind of Taoist soul-summoning technique.

That was a voice he had Mu Xue'er record beforehand, hidden in a miniature recording device inside a copper box—something he had brought from the real world last time.

As for that "human-shaped" cloud of mist—

That's dry ice.

The simplest illusion.

But in that situation, when Ling Shuanghua was at her most vulnerable and longed to hear her mother's voice, she wouldn't think about these things.

She will only hear what she wants to hear.

"You lied to her," Ding Dian said.

"I didn't lie to her." Sun Fan shook his head. "Every word I said is true. Her mother was indeed killed by Ling Tuisi, and her mother truly wanted her to live a good life. She will find out these things sooner or later."

"I just let her know in advance."

Ding Dian remained silent for a while, then suddenly sighed.

"Sun Fan, you bastard—"

"Um?"

Sometimes, you really can't tell if someone is a good person or a bad person.

Sun Fan smiled.