The silence that followed was so deep it hurt. For an instant, Li Wei thought he had misheard. Then the meaning sank in.

  Guo Liang… Dead. And he was the suspect. His hands stayed at his sides as he forced his expression into one of mild confusion. “Elder Yu, there must be some mistake. I…”

  Elder Yu raised a finger to cut him off. “You will have your chance to speak before the court. For now, you will come quietly.”

  The disciples stepped closer, the faint light of the sealing silk shimmering against the floor.

  Li Wei turned his head, glancing back into his room. His gaze found the narrow window, beyond which the horizon was pale with the first breath of dawn. He took a slow breath, steadying himself. “Very well,” he said softly, then stepped out of his room and shut the door behind him. He extended his hands out obediently. And as the silk wound around his wrists, the morning sun finally crept above the mountains, its first rays falling across an empty room, still warm with the faint glow of dying embers.

  Li Wei was escorted out into the morning chill, his wrists bound. The corridor leading from the servants’ quarters opened into a wide stone path, one that every disciple walked each dawn for training.

  DONG — DONG — DONG.

  The morning bell echoed across the Azure Cloud Sect, its solemn toll ringing from peak to peak. Cabin doors slid open. Groggy disciples stepped out, yawning, adjusting robes, until they saw Li Wei flanked by Punishment Hall disciples in dark uniforms. Their sleepy eyes sharpened into alert curiosity.

  “Is that… Li Wei?" someone whispered. "The cripple from the servant quarters?”

  “Why's the Punishment Hall escorting him?”

  “I heard Young Master Guo Liang died last night!”

  “What? THAT Guo Liang?! Patriarch Shigo’s disciple?!”

  “Nonsense! What could a crippled servant do to someone like Young Master Guo Liang?”

  Li Wei kept his head lowered and his expression calm, but his heartbeat thudded painfully. Stares stabbed into him, filled with disgust, fear, suspicion, and delight in scandal. Some disciples even stepped backward as if his mere presence was dangerous.

  Strangely, the world grew more vivid in Li Wei’s eyes. Pale morning light glinted off jade-tiled roofs; mist drifted among ancient pines; imposing peaks pierced the sky like swords; and ahead, great pavilions loomed—libraries, alchemy halls, indoor sparring halls—all places of hope and ambition for the young cultivators of Azure Cloud Sect. Li Wei had once walked those libraries and halls as a proud and talented disciple. Later, he swept their floors as a mere servant, invisible and looked down upon. Now, he walked in chains made of silk, and every gaze felt accusing.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  He still couldn’t quite believe this bizarre development, no matter how hard he tried. Five minutes ago, he was in his room contemplating his unfounded obsession with cultivation, trying to understand the root of his drive to grow stronger. He still hadn’t arrived at an answer when he was marched out of his room with binding silk, and was now the centre of an entourage that called him a ‘suspect’ but treated him more like he had already been sentenced.

  Why am I suspected in having a hand in Guo Liang’s death? How could I have killed him? he thought. And more importantly, how did Guo Liang die? Isn’t he at the Bone-Tempering stage? Isn’t he supposed to be strong? These thoughts flickered through Li Wei’s mind as he was led to a towering structure a quarter way up the main mountain, near the gates of the inner sect.

  The Disciplinary and Punishment Hall stood like a fortress carved of dark stone, its gates flanked by statues of chained dragons. Red banners hung from the walls, inked with ancient runes for justice and restraint. A cold, oppressive air lingered around it, thick enough to slow the breath.

  The gates groaned as they opened.

  Inside, Li Wei was taken down a long, stone corridor.

  The Second Head led him through until they reached an imposing chamber that was the courtroom.

  The courtroom was vast and dim, lit only by tall lanterns that cast long shadows. At the far end, seated upon raised benches carved from blackwood, were the elders of the Punishment Hall, ten of them, their faces stern, their eyes cold.

  In the center, upon the highest seat, sat the First Head of the Disciplinary Hall: Elder Gong Sunhai.

  The First Head’s beard was white as frost, and his gaze pinned Li Wei like a sword through the heart.

  Directly in front of Li Wei, upon a raised stone platform, lay a body draped in cloth.

  When the cloth was pulled back, Li Wei’s pupils constricted.

  Guo Liang.

  His eyes stared upward, unfocused and wide, frozen in a silent question. His lips were dry and tinged purple. His skin, pale as moonlight. No wounds or bruises. No signs of struggle. Just… dead.

  The sight struck Li Wei like icy water down his spine. Despite the endless humiliation Guo Liang had delivered, Li Wei felt no triumph at seeing the former’s corpse. He only felt a cold, hollow shock.

  To the left side of the courtroom stood Patriarch Shigo Tianyu, his expression dark with grief or rage or both, it was hard to tell. Beside him stood Su Qingyue, her shoulders trembling, her lashes wet. She dabbed at her eyes repeatedly with a silk handkerchief, though her tears only came faster.

  Assistant Sect Lord Han Jingshu stood with arms folded behind him, solemn and inscrutable.

  When Su Qingyue’s gaze finally met Li Wei’s, he saw a storm of emotion whirl within them. Confusion. Pain. Betrayal. Hatred.

  Her lips trembled. She looked away abruptly, as though his sight burned her, as though acknowledging him hurt too much.

  Li Wei’s chest tightened painfully.

  He wanted—no—needed to speak. His voice rose, trembling but strong, “Lady Su, I swear to you, I did not kill—”

  “Silence, suspect!” The boom of the First Head’s voice struck the hall like thunder.

  The Second Head, Yu Jianhong, shoved Li Wei forward until he stood upon a lone mat before the platform, only seven feet from Guo Liang’s corpse.

  Li Wei steadied himself.

  The First Head’s eyes were cold as granite, his voice falling like a gavel. “The case of Young Lord Guo Liang’s murder begins… now.”