The Husky and His White Cat Shizun

Chapter 271: The Final Verdict of the "Heavenly Sound Pavilion"

When Xue Zhengyong spoke, someone from another sect angrily stood up, "Can the Peak of Life and Death shut up?! Your disciple's cultivation of the Precious Chess Game has already violated a major taboo in the cultivation world. In theory, your sect should be disbanded immediately and all of you should leave! For now, I don't have time to argue with you, but do you have any self-awareness?"

"Xue Zhengyong! You're defending him? Are you in cahoots with him?!"

The surroundings buzzed with whispers.

This was often the case for sects or families. When one person became a deity, all those around them would rise with them. But once someone committed unforgivable deeds, the entire sect or family would be seen as a den of deceit and devilry.

"Judging the severity of the crime is not the same as determining the punishment," Mu Yanli said coolly, sticking to the matter at hand without passing judgment on the Peak of Life and Death. "There's no need for Sect Leader Xue to be anxious. After assessing the severity, merits will also be taken into account. Only then can a final decision be made."

She turned her head again and gazed at Mo Ran from afar, her voice icy cold, "Continue with the charges."

"I... once... deceived... my master... and... destroyed... my ancestors..."

"Deceived your master and destroyed your ancestors?"

These words were perplexing.

Yet, Mo Ran felt his heart burning as if engulfed in flames.

Disloyalty to his master and betrayal of his ancestors were sins from his past life — this Confession Water was somehow forcing those grave offenses to churn and rise from the depths of his throat!

But he didn't want to say… He didn't want to say it! Was he supposed to confess, under countless pairs of eyes, how he had humiliated Chu Wanning in his past life?

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Defiling his proud spirit, ultimately leading to his demise.

He didn't wish to speak.

He felt that his own life was nearing its end, but Chu Wanning still had a long journey ahead of him.

Chu Wanning was the spirit of the divine tree, imbued with the purest essence of spiritual energy. He hoped that Chu Wanning would continue on his path, eventually attaining enlightenment and ascending to immortality, free from the suffering of reincarnation and the pain of love.

His master was so kind, so pure.

He yearned to protect him...

Absolutely not allowing anyone to perceive any connection, any entanglement between them.

He must protect Chu Wanning from being tainted, from having the sins and blood of Heaven-Stepping Lord cling to him.

He would shield him...

A burning fire raged in his abdomen, causing excruciating pain that felt like his intestines were being severed. He faintly heard Mu Yanli coldly demanding, "What does it mean to betray one's master and forsake one's ancestors?"

He wouldn't speak, he wouldn't confess.

His fingertips grazed against the rough gravel until they bled, his forehead bruised and crimson from the pressure. Bent over and gasping for air like a dying fish on a riverbank, he remained silent...

He wouldn't say a word.

Resisting the Sin Confessing Water was no different from enduring the Heavenly Questioning. With teeth gritted, one could always persevere until the end.

Amidst Heavenly Sound Pavilion's interrogation and the watchful eyes of the crowd, he struggled like a trapped beast, howling in agony. This torment was unbearable, far more painful than even the Heavenly Questioning. Ordinary people couldn't withstand the latter, but this was a thousandfold worse.

He felt as if an invisible hand was twisting, tearing, and shredding his intestines. His wounds, mottled with flesh and blood, were scorchingly painful as they were doused in saltwater. The pain in his wrist pierced through his heart.

Mu Yanli's voice sounded so distant, as if it was coming from the other side of the ocean.

"What exactly did you do to deserve the charges of insulting your master and betraying your ancestors?!"

He remained silent, biting his tongue and lips until they bled. Blood filled his mouth, but no tears fell.

Just like those seven days he spent locked in a dog cage.

He didn't cry.

His tears would only be a laughing stock for the spectators.

No one would show mercy, and he didn't crave their sympathy either.

Even if the pain was excruciating, enough to split his guts in two, he would endure it.

Mu Yanli continued to interrogate him from above: "What, exactly, have you done to Chu Wanning?"

The pain was unbearable, to the point that hallucinations began to form before his eyes.

He vaguely saw Chu Wanning ascend to immortality a hundred years later. He remained as pristine as snow in his white garments, with handsome features and an aura of divine grace. When he didn't smile, his gaze was sharp like a blade; but when he did, the sharpness melted into a gentle ocean of tenderness.

"Not once..."

Mu Yanli paused, her vermilion lips parting softly. "What?"

Mo Ran's throat grated, his voice hoarse. "I spoke wrongly, I didn't... I didn't... betray my master..."

Lifting his gaze, bloodshot yet bright, he spat out the word.

"Ancestor murderer!"

Each syllable was ground out with vehemence.

Mu Yanli's expression was indiscernible—shock or confusion, perhaps, but she was too cold. Whatever emotion she felt quickly froze into ice. After a brief pause, she continued, "List your crimes."

Mo Ran coughed up blood, his lungs feeling shredded. Every breath carried the stench of congestion.

He lay on the ground, drenched from head to toe after enduring the excruciating pain of the Confession Water. His face was as pale as paper, his cheek pressed against the earth, with strands of hair sticking to his flushed cheeks as he struggled to catch his breath.

Mu Yanli involuntarily took a half-step forward.

She stared at him. "Continue with your confession."

"There is no guilt..." Mo Ran closed his eyes and rasped, "to confess."

Mu Yanli instructed a disciple to fetch a drop of Mo Ran's blood, which she then smeared onto the intricate, jade-like weight. The weight bore the inscription "Merits and Virtues" in small seal script, used to measure one's accumulated good deeds.

She tossed the weight into the celestial balance.

The scale began to move slowly, and everyone's gaze was fixed on the golden needle—except for Mo Ran's.

"Shattering Soul" ... it remained "Shattering Soul" ...

The needle continued its sluggish journey.

Shattering Soul.

Trapped within the soul-shattering circle, Xue Meng held the Dragon City curved blade resting on his knees, his expression extremely grim. He stared at the golden balance scale, trying his best to keep his back straight, knowing that if he were to collapse now, he might never be able to stand tall again.

His body trembled slightly, and at this moment, the palm of his hand was colder than the Dragon City's black iron blade.

Mu Yanli's beautiful eyes didn't blink as she gazed at the golden scale. The indicator moved more and more slowly, hovering almost motionlessly within the domain labeled "Soul Shattering."

She brushed aside her sleeves and said indifferently, "Well, it seems the outcome has been..."

"It's still moving."

"Mr. Xue..."

Xue Meng glared at her. Despite his voice trembling violently and uncertainty about whether what he was doing was right or wrong, he spoke.

"The needle is still moving."

Mu Yanli replied, "It's almost at a stop."

"Then let's wait until it stops."

Mu Yanli met his gaze.

After a moment, a cold and mocking smile appeared on her face. "Fine, then let's wait until it stops."

The sun blazed fiercely, causing the sandy ground to shimmer with a layer of grayish smoke.

They waited, all eyes fixed on the needle, anticipating its descent. Strangely, the indicator remained unsteady for a long while—

It seemed indecisive about how to judge Mo Weiyu. It oscillated, leaning slowly and hesitantly towards the mitigation of punishment.

Mu Yanli had never encountered such a situation before. She fell silent, her canary-yellow hem pooling at her feet as she awaited the verdict of the Divine Martial Scales in silence.

Xue Meng's knuckles turned white as he stared intently at the needle. It felt as though he wasn't just witnessing the judgment of Mo Weiyu's life, but also the arbitration of his years spent knowing Mo Ran.

From contempt to disdain, from disdain to acceptance, and finally, to approval.

Was it the initial aloofness that was wrong, or was it that fateful "big brother" that went too far astray?

He didn't know.

Fixated on that needle, in his vast emptiness, there was only the hope of gazing at it.

Don't stop.

Please.

Keep moving forward, you see, just a little more...

No matter how wrong that fellow was, he still shattered his spirit core and withdrew from the countless troops.

How could they mete out the ultimate punishment?

How could they crush his very soul...

Just a bit more. Another bit.

Until the very end.

"Extraction of Spirit Core alive."

Mu Yanli announced with an emotionless face, appearing impartial and heartless, in stark contrast to the resplendent golden glow of her magnificent robe. Her entire being was colder than frost and snow.

The needle stopped.

It trembled as it pointed at the words "Extraction of Spirit Core alive."

This was the final verdict for Grandmaster Mo.

Mu Yanli addressed the vast audience below and the ten major sects on the platform—

Indeed, there were still ten sects, as the Heavenly Sound Pavilion retained the former seat of the Confucian Wind Sect. Seated alone on that spot was Ye Wangxi, dressed entirely in black.

She carried Nan Gongsi's quiver on her back, and Nao Baijin, now forever without its master, lay at her feet. She looked haggard, but her gaze was clear as she watched everything happening on the judgment platform.

Mu Yanli said, "The heavens have eyes, and the mirror of justice hangs high. The Heavenly Sound Pavilion has weighed the merits and demerits impartially, without favoritism or prejudice, nor any intention to make things difficult. The verdict is: Mo Ran and Mo Weiyu will be subjected to the punishment of having their Spirit Cores extracted alive. A three-day notice is given to the world. If there are no objections, three days from now—"

Xue Meng had been suppressing his anger with closed eyes, but finally couldn't hold back any longer. He abruptly stood up, his silver-blue armor shimmering in the light. "I have an objection."

Silence.

"I don't need to wait until three days later, I object right now."

The uproar grew louder. "What the hell is going on at the Peak of Life and Death? What kind of nonsense is this?!"

"Just interrogate Xue Zhengyong and Xue Meng together! They're probably in cahoots; how can they still defend that demonic fiend?!"

"Why didn't the Chess of Zenith when it descended kill more people from the Peak of Life and Death? Are you really not a den of demons?"

Xue Meng's face turned livid with anger, but he had no choice but to exert all his strength to suppress it.

Of course, Mu Yanli heard the furious roars of the cultivators, but she chose to ignore them, saying calmly, "Young Master Xiao Xue, if you have something to say, I'm all ears."

Xue Meng opened his mouth, seemingly unsure of what to say for a moment. Madame Wang was deeply worried and tugged at him quietly. "Meng'er, we still have three days. Let's discuss our strategy and figure out what to say..."

But Xue Meng seemed not to hear his mother. He stared blankly at Mu Yanli for a while, then turned to look at the scales. Finally, his gaze landed on a tiny black dot in the distance.

That was Mo Ran on the execution platform.

Xue Meng's eyes trembled abruptly, like curtains stirred by a breeze, ruffling the depths of his gaze.

It wasn't dark, nor was it bright.

He blurted out without warning, "He no longer has a spirit core."

Mu Yanli asked, "What do you mean?"

Suddenly agitated, Xue Meng turned to look at her. "What do you mean? Don't you know? The one who saved you on the Summit of Life and Death, the one who resigned from the game, wasn't it him? Chief Mu, I want to know how you plan to execute him. His spirit core is already shattered! What else do you want? To dig out his heart?"

His eyes held moisture, his nails digging deeply into his palms.

"Extracting a living spirit core, extracting a living spirit core... Since there's no spirit core, are you going for his life!"

Mu Yanli narrowed her eyes. "The Heavenly Sound Pavilion has its own ways."

"A sentence is carried out three days after it's pronounced," a slightly hoarse voice interrupted. Everyone looked up to see Ye Wangxi speaking. "If the Chief has a different method, please share it here."

At once, someone from the Jade Pool Manor rebuked angrily, "What right do you have to speak? Who do you think you are?"

Others whispered in hushed tones, "Relying on Jiang Xi's support and Nan Gongsi sacrificing his life to clear Confucian Wind Sect's name, she really thinks she's something. In such a grand occasion, does she think she's fit to question the Master of Heavenly Sound Pavilion like this, just because she's an unknown woman?"

Ye Wangxi ignored all of it.

Until someone who had a grudge against the Nan Gong family shouted at her, "Ye Wangxi, Confucian Wind Sect is already destroyed. Do you really think you're the sect leader just by sitting there alone?"

Ye Wangxi held Nao Baijin, who was sobbing in her arms, still unable to recover his spiritual power. Standing alone, she didn't show any anger or agitation. When the voices of anger and ridicule gradually subsided, she said, "The commander of Confucian Wind Sect's Dark City is still alive. Whether we're destroyed or not is not for you to decide."

"You—"

Ye Wangxi didn't want to engage in further argument with others. She gazed at Mu Yanli and said, "Please enlighten me, Pavilion Master."

Mu Yanli replied, "There are methods in this world to recreate a spirit core. Even if it's shattered, the fragments remain within the heart cavity. Naturally, extracting a spirit core doesn't require it to be intact."

Xue Meng's face turned ashen. "So what do you plan to do?"

"Perform a spell to extract all the fragments," Mu Yanli said. "Heavenly Sound Pavilion won't take away his s...

Before he could finish the word "fate," Xue Zhengyong rose to his feet, his face dark with anger. "You want to excavate his spirit core fragments?"

"Indeed."

"How many times will that be?" Xue Zhengyong's tiger-like eyes blazed with fury. Threads of white had started to weave through his temples. "Five times? Ten times? Excavating a living spirit core damages the heart—it's excruciating pain each time. A few years ago, the Heavenly Sound Pavilion extracted a prisoner's spirit core. She didn't survive it and died in her cell that same day."

Mu Yanli responded coolly, "That was due to her own frailty. It wasn't the fault of the Heavenly Sound Pavilion."

"Then why not just take his life outright!" Xue Zhengyong roared. "Mu Yanli, spirit core fragments! How can you even say such a thing? If his spirit core is shattered into two pieces, you'll dig twice; if it's three pieces, you'll dig three times… but what if it's a hundred or a thousand pieces? Are you going to flay him alive?! You're torturing him right now!!"

"If it truly comes to that, it's simply his fate."

Xue Zhengyong was left speechless.

Fate?

Everything was about fate.

Suddenly, he felt it all was utterly absurd.

What is fate?

Due to fate, he mistakenly raised this child as his nephew.

He provided the child with a family, a master, a place to dwell, and a home. But what was the original destiny of this child?

An illegitimate child, he grew up hungry, begging and performing with his mother for survival.

After his mother passed away, a frail and orphaned child dragged her decaying body to a mass burial ground, personally burying the only warmth of his childhood.

He endured countless beatings, endless scoldings, was locked in a dog cage, and falsely accused, ending up in prison.

Everyone wishes for fairness in this world, but from the moment of birth, fate is inherently unjust—

Why do some young masters on this side enjoy luxurious carriages and maidservants, while a smile can be bought with a fortune?

On the other side, impoverished commoners wander homeless, forced to eat insects and make do with the earth as their bed.

Why can some people indulge in being spoiled by their mothers without a care in the world?

Some must bear their mother's remains to beg the aristocratic titans for a mere "your reach exceeds your grasp."

Why are some born into humility while others into prosperity?

It's unjust.

When destiny unfairly dumps its cruelty upon those at the bottom rung, when a single edict can snatch away the lives of their loved ones—

Where is justice?

They're all living beings, how can they not harbor resentment, how can they remain detached and composed?

Even if this child had made mistakes, wasn't his flesh and blood, or was fate's plaything... thinking of this, it still tugged at one's heartstrings.

Xue Zhengyong closed his eyes.

He murmured, "Too cruel, the Divine Martial Scales probably never accounted for the shattering of spirit cores... hundreds of times, Mu Yanli."

Raising his eyelids, his voice trembled.

"You want to take a needle and pierce his heart, hundreds of times."

"..."

The world was clear and serene, with the Heavenly Sound Pavilion embodying strictness, fairness, and meticulousness in every aspect.

Xue Zhengyong lifted his face, watching the dense clouds drift by slowly.

"Well then, now that he has paid for his crimes, he has settled his debt to society. It's time for him to be in the clear."

A breeze stirred.

Suddenly, Xue Zhengyong choked up.

"But what about what this world owes him... Has anyone repaid him... Has anyone repaid him..."