I'll make you the furnace and the cauldron, so you can refine Yin and Yang and prove the Great

These words were like a boulder thrown into a calm lake, instantly causing an uproar in the square. The disciples who had gathered to watch widened their eyes, and their discussions surged like waves of wheat rippling in the wind.

"Chen Jie is dead?" "Killed by Senior Brother Li?" "And he colluded with the Yin Quan Sect?" "Good heavens, Senior Brother Chen was the Ninth Elder's personal disciple..." "This is a huge mess."

The Ninth Elder's expression changed drastically the moment he heard the name "Chen Jie." A fierce killing intent and rage surged in his lightning-like eyes, and his gray spiritual energy surged violently, almost uncontrollably spreading outwards. Chen Jie was one of his most prized disciples, whom he had nurtured for centuries, investing countless resources, hoping that Chen Jie would reach a higher realm after the Centennial Grand Competition and become a backbone of the Elder Council. Now, however, he had died in the secret realm, at the hands of this old man from the Northern Wilderness.

"Li Hanshan!" The Ninth Elder's voice seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth, "Is what Yan Qingsong said true? You colluded with the Yinquan Sect cultivators to kill my disciple?"

The oppressive aura of the Void Refinement level surged again. Although it didn't directly press down on Li Hanshan, it hung over his head like dark clouds gathering before a storm, threatening to fall at any moment. The air in the square suddenly became heavy, and the disciples who had been discussing the matter unconsciously fell silent, their eyes all turning towards the direction where Li Hanshan was.

Li Hanshan stood amidst the lingering white light of the sect leader's attack, his expression unchanged. He didn't rush to explain, but instead calmly took out a silver-white jade slip from his robes and held it in his palm. The jade slip glowed faintly under his spiritual power, and a pale blue light rose from it, condensing into a flowing image in mid-air—in the image, Chen Jie and Zhao Shoudao stood in the center of the valley. The cyan tracking talisman in Chen Jie's hand glowed, and Zhao Shoudao held his grayish-yellow staff. Chen Jie's voice clearly came from the image: "He's nearby…he can't escape."

The scene continued to shift. Chen Jie, arms crossed, a cat-and-mouse calmness playing on his lips, said, "Junior Brother Li, come out. There's no point in hiding." Immediately following was the image of Zhao Shoudao's gray-yellow staff, imbued with the immense spiritual power of a third-level Nascent Soul cultivator, crashing into the ground. Then—the scene shifted again, and Chen Jie's dark golden natal spirit sword pierced the back of a blue-clad figure from the side. Behind that blue-clad figure, a hunched figure slowly emerged from the shadows.

The Ninth Elder's gaze sharpened when he saw the hunched figure. He recognized it—the "Grandma Yin" of the Yin Spring Sect, a core disciple at the third level of the Nascent Soul stage. But the scene clearly showed that Chen Jie had struck first, his dark golden natal spirit sword already piercing several inches behind Li Hanshan. The hunched figure had only emerged from the shadows after Chen Jie's attack, suggesting a spur-of-the-moment decision rather than a pre-arranged plan. The hunched figure suddenly accelerated the instant Chen Jie launched his full-force attack on Li Hanshan, its silver-gray claws slicing in from the side, precisely piercing Chen Jie's protective aura. Chen Jie didn't even have time to turn around before his dantian was ripped open by the sneak attack, and he crashed to the ground like a felled tree.

The scene ended there. The pale blue light slowly dissipated in the twilight, and the silver jade slip returned to silence. The plaza was deathly still, thousands of gazes falling on the fading image, then turning in unison towards the direction of the Ninth Elder.

Li Hanshan put the jade slip back into his sleeve, his voice calm yet resolute: "Ninth Elder, I have no personal grudge against Chen Jie. In the secret realm, it was Chen Jie and Zhao Shoudao who attacked me first. I was merely forced to retaliate. As for that Yinquan Sect cultivator, she didn't communicate with me before making her move. Instead, she emerged from the shadows during a lull in Chen Jie's all-out attack. If I had been in cahoots with her, why would I wait until Chen Jie's sword was already at my back before letting her attack?"

He paused, his gaze meeting the Ninth Elder's eyes, which were brimming with anger: "If the Ninth Elder wishes to punish me, I have nothing to say. But if you must punish me, you should first ask Chen Jie—why did he join forces to attack his fellow disciples in the secret realm?"

These words, like a precisely aimed dagger, pierced the Ninth Elder's most vulnerable spot, one from which she could not refute. A silence lingered in the plaza for several breaths. The disciples who had gathered exchanged glances, some whispering amongst themselves, others simply watching the scene in silence. The Fifth Elder remained atop the stone pillar, her blue robes fluttering gently in the twilight. Her gaze swept back and forth between the fading image and Li Hanshan, a faint, almost imperceptible smile appearing at the corner of her lips.

The Ninth Elder's face was ashen. His gaze lingered for a moment on the remaining glimmer of light in the now-vanished image before returning to Li Hanshan's face. He could sense the gazes in the plaza subtly shifting from the focus on the "Dao Artifact" to his judgment on how to respond. Chen Jie had indeed struck first; the Water Mirror Technique's record was crystal clear, leaving no room for doubt. If he continued to pursue Li Hanshan, not only would he fail to seek justice for Chen Jie, but he would also expose the Elder Council's ugly and greedy behavior to everyone present.

Yan Qingsong seemed to want to say something more, his lips moved, but he was silenced by a gaze from the sect leader.

"Enough." The sect leader spoke, her voice neither loud nor soft, yet like a pebble thrown into a deep pool, it created silent ripples across the plaza. All sound fell silent at that moment. Yan Qingsong's words were abruptly cut off, and even the Ninth Elder unconsciously subtly restrained his surging gray spiritual energy. The sect leader's gaze shifted from Li Hanshan, sweeping over Yan Qingsong's face, slightly contorted with resentment, then over the Ninth Elder's tense shoulders, before returning to Li Hanshan. She spoke, each word as clear as if etched into stone:

"Li Hanshan, you did well. When others tried to kill you, you fought back; this is the duty of a disciple of the Hehuan Sect."

She paused, then turned to the Ninth Elder, her voice carrying a restrained yet more resolute strength than before: "Ninth Elder, the Water Mirror Technique records Chen Jie's actions clearly. He attacked first, he besieged his fellow disciples, and he brought it upon himself. If you want to seek justice for your disciple, you should first ask yourself how you taught him."

The Ninth Elder's face alternated between pale and flushed, his chest heaving slightly. His eyes, sharp as lightning, churned with barely suppressed rage and killing intent, yet a layer of rationality held him firmly in place. He knew, of course, that the Sect Leader was right; the fact that Chen Jie had struck first was undeniable. If he continued to entangle himself with the matter, he would only embarrass himself further.

But the sect leader gave him no time to catch his breath. Her voice rang out again, even more domineering and unquestionable than before: "Moreover, even if Li Hanshan really obtained the Dao artifact, that's his own skill. In the secret realm, life and death depend on one's own methods, and opportunities depend on one's own fate. If he got it, it's his. I'd like to ask the Ninth Elder—when your disciples were scrambling for opportunities from their fellow disciples and killing them in the secret realm, why didn't you step in to uphold justice?"

These words were like a resounding slap across the Ninth Elder's face. His lips pressed into a thin line, but he uttered not a word. The Sect Leader looked away from him, her gaze returning to Li Hanshan, and nodded slightly: "You come with me. Ye Shuanghua, Zhang Qingxuan, you come too." Without waiting for any response, she turned and walked towards the back mountain. The hem of her white dress brushed against the ground, creating shimmering fragments of light, like moonlight scattered by the wind.

Without hesitation, Li Hanshan quickly followed. Ye Shuanghua, clutching the wound on her left arm, followed closely behind. Zhang Qingxuan squeezed through the crowd, quickly walked to Ye Shuanghua's side, and supported her slightly swaying arm. The figures of the group gradually disappeared into the twilight, passing through the lingering afterglow of the milky-white light, and vanished into the spiritual mist at the end of the stone steps.

The crowd in the square, like a river that had been frozen for a long time finally beginning to flow again, began to whisper, gradually spreading from a few scattered spots and turning into a low hum. The Ninth Elder stood there, his gray robes fluttering gently in the twilight. His gaze was fixed on the direction where the sect leader had disappeared, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white, his eyes surging with suppressed anger and resentment. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end only let out a cold snort, turned, and strode away. A gray beam of light shot into the sky, disappearing into the heights of the main peak in a few breaths.

Yan Qingsong stood rooted to the spot, his empty right sleeve fluttering in the wind, his gaze fixed on the direction Li Hanshan had disappeared in, his lips pressed into a thin line. Huo Yuan, supported by someone, stood behind him, also staring at the end of the stone steps swallowed by the twilight, his lips pressed into a pale slit. Zhao Shoudao stood silently further away, the hem of his gray robe fluttering slightly in the mountain wind, lost in thought. The Fifth Elder leaped down from the top of the stone pillar, landing at the edge of the plaza. Watching the figures disappear into the spiritual mist, her gaze held a restrained contemplation. After a moment, she too turned and left, her azure figure blending into the bamboo shadows of the twilight.

A night breeze blew from the valley, swirling up the few remaining fallen leaves on the plaza. They danced on the bluestone ground, drifting towards the direction where the milky white light disappeared at the end of the stone steps.