When Song Yao woke up the next morning, she was still questioning her life choices a little.
Right.
After her identity was exposed and she was kissed by Fourth Junior Brother last night, why did she end up sleeping in Zhu Zhao's bed again?
But it didn't matter. Zhu Zhao was a good person.
In the past, her relationship with Zhu Zhao had been at rock bottom. Zhu Zhao would definitely not harbor any messy, chaotic thoughts like Fourth Junior Brother, nor would she go crazy and try to lock her up like Fifth Junior Sister.
To think that the person she could trust and be closest to right now was actually Zhu Zhao.
She must have accumulated far too much bad karma in her past life.
She sat on the bed for a moment to clear her head.
The bamboo curtain rustled softly. Zhu Zhao walked in holding a neatly folded set of blue-and-white robes. She placed them casually on the low table by the head of the bed and said indifferently, “Get changed. The people from the Beiyao Sect are waiting for you outside.”
She turned to leave as soon as she finished speaking, but Song Yao called out to stop her in a raspy voice, “Are you also teaching the Beiyao Sect disciples techniques?”
Zhu Zhao nodded without stopping her pace, pulling the door shut behind her as she went out.
Song Yao grabbed the clothes and slipped them on, a thoughtful look flashing in her eyes.
By the time she finished changing and walked out, Zhu Zhao was already gone, and Moqi was standing under the corridor.
He leaned against a corridor pillar with his arms crossed. When he saw her come out, his cold, sinister gaze swept over her, and he spoke in a nasty tone, “Hurry up! The people from the Pill Pavilion are all waiting for you. Stop dawdling. Do you think we have all day to waste on you?”
Song Yao's lips curved as her interest was piqued. “Senior Moqi, Sect Master Feng promised me yesterday that you would be punished along with us, the disciples of the Nine Saints Hall. You didn't forget, did you?”
Moqi hadn't expected her to dare bring up old scores when she was all alone. His face instantly turned as black as ink. His knuckles cracked as he clenched his fists, and he growled through gritted teeth, “Are you looking for death?!”
“What's wrong?”
Song Yao raised an eyebrow with a faint smile. “Is Senior Moqi planning to disobey Sect Master Feng's orders?”
She sat down carelessly on the threshold. “Sure, then I won't go to the Pill Pavilion either. If you have the guts, just kill me...”
The moment the word “kill” left her mouth, she suddenly felt a bit of a chill. She cleared her throat and changed her wording: “If you have the guts, refine the pills yourself.”
She put on a completely shameless display, looking utterly unbothered by his threats.
Moqi ground his back teeth in fury, but Feng Qing had issued strict orders beforehand—they absolutely had to get her pill formula.
Before they got it, he couldn't touch a single hair on her head.
Suppressing his rage again and again, Moqi finally squeezed a few words out from between his teeth: “Come with me to the Pill Pavilion first. Once our official business is done, it won't be too late for me to receive my punishment.”
Song Yao shook her head slowly. “No can do. Punish yourself first, then we'll go. Otherwise, I'll feel unhappy, and if I write the pill formula wrong, Sect Master Feng will definitely blame me.”
Moqi: “...”
His knuckles clenched and unclenched. He truly wanted to choke this incredibly arrogant girl to death right then and there.
Considering that Sect Master Feng still found her useful, he ultimately suppressed his surging fury and squeezed out each word through his teeth: “Fine! How do you want me to be beaten??”
Having obtained a satisfactory answer, Song Yao finally condescended to stand up. She casually patted the dust off her clothes. “That's easy. Let's go to Wangyun Peak. Your executioners are waiting for you there.”
-
Outside the main hall of Wangyun Peak, a faint scent of blood hung over a temporarily cleared open space.
Ming Ran, Cheng Yue, and several other disciples of the Nine Saints Hall were pinned against the cold stone slabs. The backs of their robes were already soaked in blood. The crisp crack of a whip tearing through the air rang out, accompanied by suppressed groans, echoing one after another in the wind.
Beside a stone table opposite them, a Beiyao Sect deacon held a teacup, taking a slow sip. Raising his palm slightly, the executing cultivator immediately pulled back the whip and stepped aside.
“How many days has it been, and you can't even memorize the 'Precepts of Loyalty and Filial Piety'? You even dared to conspire to escape?”
He set down his teacup and swept his gaze over the disciples on the ground, his tone dripping with condescending disdain. “The Nine Saints Hall is considered a sect of some standing, yet how did it raise such lawless disciples like you? Consider yourselves lucky to have met a kind-hearted man like me. Today, I will make sure to steer you back onto the right path.”
“Bah!”
Ming Ran suddenly wrenched her shoulders. Cold sweat dripped from her temples, and her eyes were bloodshot.
She spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva and cursed hoarsely, “What kind of righteous sect are you? You do nothing but dirty, humiliating deeds! If you have the guts, come at me alone! What kind of coward uses my junior brothers and sisters to show off your authority??”
The Beiyao Sect deacon's expression instantly darkened. He sneered, “You certainly have a stiff spine, but you never learn... Your name is Ming Ran, right?”
He stood up unhurriedly and snatched the long whip directly from the hand of the cultivator beside him.
The tip of the whip struck the ground heavily, sending stone fragments flying.
“I was originally planning to go easy on you for the sake of your Ming family, but since you are so stubborn...”
He smiled sinisterly, channeling strength into his wrist. “This old man will personally handle this today. I want to see if your bones are harder, or my whip!”
A sharp wind whipped up as the long whip was about to crash down on her head.
“Stop this instant!”
A deep shout boomed from the distance, infused with dense spiritual energy, making the eardrums of everyone present buzz.
Everyone looked toward the sound and saw two figures flying over on swords, landing in the middle of the clearing.
Moqi's face was already dark, but the moment he swept his eyes over the blood-stained ground, his brow furrowed even deeper.
The deacon was taken aback for a moment, but he quickly bowed in salute along with the other cultivators. “This subordinate greets Elder Moqi!”
He stood up straight. Assuming Moqi was here to inspect the discipline of the disciples, he quickly took a half-step forward and spoke with a hint of seeking credit, “You've arrived at the perfect time. This gang of Nine Saints Hall remnants conspired to escape down the mountain this morning, but this subordinate caught them on the spot. I am currently punishing them according to our sect's rules to grind down their temper and make them behave.”
“Wow, how impressive.”
Before Moqi could speak, a head popped out from behind him, and everyone finally realized that someone was following him.
The girl wore a simple blue-and-white robe. Her features were delicate and gentle, and she looked soft and mild-mannered. Yet her skin was as fair as jade, her lips a soft red, and her face was exceptionally clean and beautiful.
With a faint smile playing on her lips, her gaze swept over the bloody whip marks on the ground and landed on Ming Ran's bleeding back. Her tone carried a strange hint of praise as she asked, “How many lashes was that?”
Moqi's expression shifted. The words swirled in his throat a few times, but remembering Feng Qing's instructions, he forced them back down. He merely stood there with his jaw clenched, the aura around him terrifyingly heavy.
The deacon furrowed his brows and sized her up. Quickly recognizing her identity, his tone instantly sank, filled with wariness. “You... You're that personal disciple of the Nine Saints Hall, Lin Mu?!”
Song Yao nodded, replying politely, “Hello, yes, that's me. So, how many lashes did you give them just now?”
Standing beside Moqi like this, she looked completely calm, showing not a single trace of being a prisoner.
The deacon felt uneasy, unable to read the situation. He subconsciously turned to look at Moqi, waiting for his orders.
Moqi closed his eyes, having nowhere to vent the fury pent up in his chest. When he opened them, his voice was harsh and fierce as he barked at the deacon, “Are you deaf? She asked you a question, answer her immediately!”
The deacon gasped in shock and quickly replied, “About... about a dozen lashes...”
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