Han Tian Angrily Inquires, Yan Tan Turns His Face and Exposes the Conspiracy

The wind in Northern Wasteland City whipped sand grains, stinging my face like tiny needles. I stood at the foot of the stone steps before the City Lord's Manor, Ye Qingwan half a step to my side, her hand never leaving the medicine pestle at her waist.

She said nothing, and I made no move.

The clang of armor echoed from afar as a squad of city guards marched out, escorting several disheveled individuals from the direction of the black market. These men had been Ji Hantian's confidants, now bound by chains, their faces etched with disbelief.

I knew the storm had reached its tipping point.

Just then, the sound of hooves erupted from the end of East Street, kicking up dust. A troop of attendants in Purple Gold Python Pattern Robes, surrounding a single figure, galloped forward, heading straight for the main gate of the City Lord's Manor. The figure dismounted, kicked open the gate guards, and strode into the center of the plaza.

It was Ji Hantian.

His face was ashen, his eyes bloodshot, as if he hadn't slept all night. He pointed at Yan Jiuxiao on the high platform, his voice tearing through the morning quiet, "Yan Jiuxiao! Have you gone mad enough? Sealing the black market, detaining my Ji family members – who gave you the guts?"

Yan Jiuxiao stood on the platform, his back straight, a faint golden light flickering in his palm. The light was weak, yet it sent a jolt through my heart—the Origin imprint was still active, his divine soul still within the trajectory I had set.

I didn't step forward, nor did I speak.

I just watched.

Yan Jiuxiao slowly raised his eyes, his gaze falling on Ji Hantian, calm as if he weren't facing the direct grandchild of a powerful Ji Family Elder. "Guts?" he sneered, "You offered your own neck."

"What nonsense are you spouting!" Ji Hantian roared, "Our agreement – you dare break it? Have you forgotten who kept you in the City Lord's position for ten years?"

"Agreement?" Yan Jiuxiao suddenly drew a secret letter from his sleeve and tossed it.

The paper unfurled in the air, drifting to the ground.

It was a letter sealed with blood patterns, its edges scorched black, clearly taken by force from some secret chamber. The paper bore the Blood Demon Sect's Crimson Lotus Imprint, along with Ji Hantian's personal seal and signature below. The contents detailed the transaction of supplying Yin materials to the black market in exchange for incomplete demonic cultivation techniques.

The crowd erupted in an uproar.

Ji Hantian's pupils constricted. He looked down at the letter sharply, instinctively taking half a step back.

This action spoke louder than any defense.

"This is impossible!" he roared, "This is forged! Someone must have framed me!"

"Framed?" Yan Jiuxiao said coldly, "In the third layer of your secret room's hidden compartment, you keep the 'Crimson Token' bestowed by the Blood Demon Sect. Shall I send someone to retrieve it now? Or perhaps you'd like to explain why residual Blood Crystal energy lingers in the meridians of your left arm?"

At this, the entire place fell silent.

Ji Hantian's expression changed completely. He subconsciously raised his left hand, his sleeve shifting slightly to reveal a sliver of skin—a faint red line there was glowing hot.

It was the mark left after implanting the Blood Crystal, detectable only by those close to him or skilled in the Demonic Dao.

And Yan Jiuxiao had seen it.

Standing at the foot of the steps, my fingertips trembled slightly.

It wasn't me who told him to say that.

It was the wisp of Origin I had planted, igniting suppressed memories deep within his Sea of Consciousness, forcing him to confront his own actions.

Now, he wasn't just retaliating; he was saving himself.

Ji Hantian finally realized that the man before him was no longer the pushover he could manipulate at will.

He gritted his teeth, his voice a low growl, "Good… very good! You think this is enough to bring me down? I have the Great Elder behind me; the entire Ji Family won't tolerate your recklessness!"

"The Ji Family?" Yan Jiuxiao suddenly smiled, "Then ask them—" he turned abruptly, facing the surrounding Ji family members, "—who is willing to share kinship with those who collude with the Demonic Dao? Who wants the Blood Demon Sect to refine Human Puppets using our bloodline?"

No one answered.

But someone quietly took a step back.

Another person averted their gaze.

The hearts of the people were beginning to waver.

Ji Hantian scanned the crowd, noticing that even the branch family members who usually fawned over him had lowered their heads. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms, yet his voice still forced a semblance of authority, "Yan Jiuxiao, don't get cocky! This isn't over! As long as I'm here, you'll never—"

"Enough," Yan Jiuxiao raised a hand to interrupt, his tone leaving no room for doubt, "Effective immediately, Ji Hantian is confined to his residence for three months of self-reflection. He is forbidden from leaving his manor. A decision will be made upon the Patriarch's return."

Before his words had even faded, two squads of city guards stepped forward, seizing Ji Hantian's arms.

"You dare!" he struggled violently, his roars nearly tearing his throat, "I am the Ji Family Elder's direct grandchild! How dare you dogs touch me? Let go! Do you hear me!"

No one listened.

The armored guards dragged him out of the manor without hesitation, their steps firm. His boots scraped long trails on the ground, his Purple Gold Python Pattern Robe was covered in dust, his crown askew, his long hair disheveled.

The once-lofty Young Master Ji was now being dragged like a prisoner under the eyes of everyone present.

I watched his receding back quietly, a slight smile playing on my lips.

Three years ago, in a dark room, he had personally plunged a poisoned needle into my Dao Bone, saying with a laugh, "Trash should have the life of trash."

I thought I had died then.

But now, he was the one alive, while the prodigy I once looked up to was kneeling.

Ye Qingwan suddenly turned to look at me.

Her gaze was complex, as if she had seen through the surface, glimpsing something deeper.

"You had it all planned," she said.

It wasn't a question, but a statement.

I didn't deny it, nor did I admit it. I just looked at the empty plaza ahead and said softly, "It wasn't an arrangement, it was following the trend."

She was silent for a moment, her voice lowering slightly, "Do you think he's pitiful?"

I turned my head to look at her.

Sunlight shone on her face, revealing the almost imperceptible crease between her brows. She wasn't pitying Ji Hantian; she was wary of me.

"What do you think?" I countered.

She shook her head, "Not pitiful. I'm just wondering if the next person to be pushed out will be you."

The wind swept across the plaza, lifting the corner of her cloak.

I smiled, my voice very light, "Then we'll see whose hand is steadier."

She didn't speak again, merely tightened her grip on the medicine pestle.

I knew what she was guarding against.

She wasn't afraid of schemes or slaughter, but of the kind of power that could control everything without a sound.

And I, precisely, possessed it.

At that moment, Yan Jiuxiao descended from the high platform, his steps steady. He paused as he passed us, his gaze lingering on my face for a moment before quickly moving away.

He said nothing, but the golden light in his palm flickered slightly.

We understood each other without words.

He had won this round, but he had also completely cut off his own retreat.

From now on, he would no longer be a city lord dependent on the Ji Family, but an entity independent of any faction.

And this was exactly what I needed.

The crowd gradually dispersed, and the plaza returned to silence.

Only a few tattered strips of cloth hung from the flagpole, swaying in the wind. They were torn from corners of clothing during the earlier chaos, embroidered with a half-bloomed blood lotus.

I stared at the flower for a moment, then suddenly reached into my embrace, pulling out a jade slip.

This was a duplicate of the account books confiscated from the black market last night, listing all the merchants who had done business with Ji Hantian. One page read, "Every seventh day of the month, deliver medicine to the west wing of the Ji Manor in exchange for three catties of red sand."

That place was one of the entrances to the secret chamber where the Ji Family stored the remnant dao crystals.

I put the jade slip away and looked up at the sky.

The sun had already risen to its zenith.

"Let's go," I said to Ye Qingwan.

She nodded and followed behind me.

We walked side-by-side across the plaza, our footsteps echoing lightly on the flagstones. In the distance, a crow landed on a broken wall, tilted its head to look at us, and then flapped its wings, flying towards the west of the city.

My right hand was tucked into my sleeve, my fingertips gently caressing the edge of the jade slip.

It was very cold, as if it had just been dug out of the ground.