Reason was reason, but when someone publicly doubted you like this, who could truly swallow that insult?
Zhao Heng's chest heaved violently, like a trapped beast shackled tight in iron chains, a suppressed roar rolling in his throat.
He glared fixedly at True Person Yu Qing, his eyes reddened by extreme fury, nearly spitting fire. "Zhu Yuqing, don't push people too far! Your Profound Heaven Sect produced a traitor, yet instead of reflecting on your own faults, you stand here hurling bloody accusations—what do you take us for? What do you take the fellow cultivators of the Nine Domains for?!"
The more he spoke, the more agitated he became. His voice suddenly rose, nearly turning into a howl. "You don't trust us? We don't trust you either! Who knows whether you're hiding Si Yi for some other scheme? Who knows whether the crimes written on those bamboo slips were embellished, fabricated to frame others? Who knows—"
"Tap."
An exceedingly soft, muffled sound suddenly fell amid Zhao Heng's furious shouting.
The sound was so faint, as faint as morning dew slipping from a leaf tip and striking a bluestone slab, gone in an instant.
Yet at this moment, it was more piercing than any thunderbolt—Zhao Heng's voice cut off abruptly, as though an invisible hand had fiercely clamped around his throat, choking every remaining word there.
Everyone in the hall turned involuntarily toward the source of the sound, as though their gazes had been drawn by a magnet.
Yu Xiao True Person remained seated where he was. A little mountain of stones had already been stacked on the table before him. It looked precarious, yet it stood straight and steady.
He still held several smooth, lustrous pebbles in his hand. For some reason, one had slipped through his fingers, rolled a