Lin Qingzhu took a brand-new ledger from her Storage Bag, opened it to the first page, and waited with her brush poised.
Wails from the Square penetrated the walls of the Main Hall, each more agonized than the last, like pigs being slaughtered.
Zhou Xuan ignored the commotion outside and returned to his seat in the Main Hall, taking the Spirit Tea Lin Qingzhu handed him and sipping it.
"Let them in."
Wuchen acknowledged the order and went out.
Less than ten breaths later, the hall doors were pushed open. Xie Yuan rushed in first and dropped to his knees with a thud, his knees striking the stone tiles.
A dozen or so sect masters and elders followed him, jostling one another as they scrambled to squeeze inside.
"Save us, Young Master Zhou!"
"Please sever that thread!"
"I'm willing to offer everything my sect has!"
Over a dozen people crowded into the hall, kneeling in a dense mass.
Spiritual energy fluctuations of varying strength emanated from them. Any one of them would have been a towering figure who could summon wind and rain in the outside world.
Now they kowtowed until their foreheads were red and swollen, tears and snot streaming down their faces.
Zhou Xuan blew gently across the steaming rim of his cup, leisurely finished a sip of tea, then set the cup on the armrest.
"Enough. Stop howling."
The hall instantly fell silent. Over a dozen pairs of eyes fixed on him, their faces all bearing the same plea: please.
Zhou Xuan leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other.
"Go on, then. What do you want me to do?"
Xie Yuan wiped the snot from his face and spoke in a trembling voice. "Please pull that thread out of our bodies completely,