The sound rang out crisp and clear.
Caught completely off guard, Ye Hui stiffened. He looked up blankly at the imposing "old monster" before him, a man who seemed as unfathomable as distant mountains and an ancient well.
Yun Qing slowly withdrew the medicinal root, his voice calm. "Who taught you that?"
Ye Hui froze. "What?"
"Who taught you to call an innate constitution evil and vicious?"
Ye Hui's lips moved. "Everyone says..."
"If everyone understood the Great Dao, the world wouldn't have so many fools scrambling after petty gains." Yun Qing cut him off, his tone brooking no argument.
For a moment, Ye Hui had nothing to say.
Yun Qing looked at him, lightly tapping the edge of the bamboo tray with his fingertips.
"If you believe it yourself, then you truly are a fool."
A tremor ran through Ye Hui. Ever since childhood, people had called him sinister and ill-omened. After he entered the sect, his master had used his gift to win glory for the sect while warning him not to reveal too much, lest the world turn on him in disgust.
Later, Ye Tianchen rose to prominence, and the label "Spirit-Devouring Evil Art" was slapped onto him. Everyone seemed to have finally found a reasonable excuse.
His past victories were the work of an evil art. His cold disposition was a demonic nature. His refusal to yield meant he harbored wicked intentions.
Ye Hui had heard it so often, for so long, that even he had come to believe it was true.
He could not help looking up into the man's eyes, searching for confirmation of something, but Yun Qing had already looked away. "Keep working," he said lazily.
Ye Hui lowered his eyes. "Yes."
The shop was quiet, save for the faint rustle of fingertips