Inside the Council Hall, the deathly silence was utterly torn apart by the crisp snap of a breaking sword.
Time seemed to freeze at that instant. Every gaze converged on the youth who had broken a sword with his bare hand, their eyes filled with incredulous shock.
Xiao Yan slowly opened his blood-drenched hand, letting the broken half of the sword fall to the floor with a clang.
Without so much as glancing at Nalan Yanran, who stood rooted to the spot with her pretty face deathly pale, he turned to meet his father Xiao Zhan's deeply conflicted gaze. His knees bent, and he dropped heavily to the floor with a thud.
That kneeling gesture was weighty and resolute, as though it bore all the humiliation and resentment he had suffered that day, as well as the responsibility and unbending pride he carried as a descendant of the Xiao Clan. He lowered his head, his voice slightly hoarse with emotion, yet utterly firm.
"Father! Today, I acted on my own and committed this grave act of defiance. Please forgive me!"
Xiao Zhan's lips moved. Looking at his son's freely bleeding palm and ramrod-straight back, he felt a jumble of emotions. There was relief and pride, but more than anything, an indescribable heartache. Before he could speak, however, Xiao Yan had already made his next move.
He reached out with his uninjured hand, seized the front of his robe, and pulled hard! With a ripping sound, he tore off a strip of blue-green cloth.
Without the slightest hesitation, he spread the strip on the floor before him. Then he raised his still-bleeding hand and, using his finger as a brush and his blood as ink, began writing on the cloth, stroke by stroke!
His movements were steady and forceful. Every character