The ambush on Jia Wei Xin sent shockwaves through the sect. Word spread like wildfire—not only about her brave stand against bullying, but also the brazen attack on her—the very disciple who had brought unprecedented honor to the Cloud Serpent Sect.
Liu Mo Fei, his resolve hardened by the incident, acted swiftly. He convened an emergency disciplinary court—a rare and solemn event reserved only for grave misconduct that threatened the foundation of the sect.
The court chamber had never been this full.
Rows upon rows of disciples—white-robed, blue-sashed—crowded the hall. Some stood, some sat in silence, but all watched. Even the elders seemed unusually alert, their expressions unreadable. This wasn't a routine hearing. This was a reckoning.
Liu Mo Fei stood at the central dais, flanked by senior elders and administrators. Below him stood Pa Ti Cia, her back rigid, lips pinched in defiance. To her left, Elder Hai sat among the other council members, his expression unreadable, as though none of this pertained to him.
---
Jia Wei Xin stepped forward.
She was not alone.
Yan Ping stood beside her—trembling, yet upright. And behind them—
Mei Lan.
She stepped forward without hesitation, head high, taking her place behind Jia Wei Xin. One by one, others joined—Luo Han. Chang Dian. Chen Yu. Even elite disciples who once scoffed at their group now stood shoulder to shoulder with them, forming a silent but powerful wall of support.
The silence was deafening.
Yan Ping was the first to speak, her voice trembling but clear.
"The first time I was beaten was because I was falling behind in alchemy class," she said. "I begged for help. I was told to be silent, or I'd be expelled. Pa Ti Cia saw the bruises. She told me I should 'know my place.' Then it happened again and again, and Pa Ti Cia was there. The last time was when my team won the contest. I was beaten because they said I did not deserve it."
A ripple went through the hall. Her words struck a deep chord, especially with those from humble backgrounds who knew all too well the sting of elitism.
Then another voice—a thin boy with burn scars.
"She said my burns were my own fault for being careless. I wasn't given healing herbs until two days later. I still can't hold a ladle properly."
And more came forward.
Stories of humiliation. Disproportionate punishments. Denied meals. Isolation. Public shaming.
Pa Ti Cia remained defiant, though her eyes darted uneasily toward Elder Hai. His face, once unreadable, showed a flicker of concern.
Then came the testimony that turned the room cold.
A girl with trembling hands stepped forward. Her voice cracked, but she pushed through.
"There was a disciple named Wen Xiu. She tried to report her injuries after being bullied… Pa Ti Cia told her to reflect on her 'attitude,' said she was disrupting the class harmony. Two days later, Wen Xiu climbed the herbal cliffs—and jumped."
She paused, breath shaking.
"And she wasn't the only one." Her voice grew hoarse. "Ling Shu… she was caught crying during training. Pa Ti Cia ordered her to kneel in the snow all night, said she needed to 'discipline her emotions.' Ling Shu fell sick. No one came. No one checked. She left a note… and walked straight into the frozen river at dawn. They found her stiff and blue the next morning, still clutching her jade pendant."
Gasps erupted through the chamber like cracks in ice.
Whispers died in throats. Someone covered their mouth with a sob. The air turned heavy, thick with grief and shame.
Pa Ti Cia's face drained of color. She flinched as though slapped.
Even Elder Hai shifted, his confident stillness cracking under the weight of the accusations. His eyes flicked downward, expression tightening. The elite disciples—the ones who had once turned away from complaints, who had scoffed at whispers—were suddenly very quiet. Some dropped their gaze. Others clenched their fists.
The chamber didn't feel like a courtroom anymore.
It felt like a memorial.
---
"This is absurd!" Pa Ti Cia shouted, her voice rising in desperation. "They're spinning lies! Discipline is necessary. These are weaklings who can't handle responsibility!"
Her voice echoed across the silent hall, brittle and hollow.
Liu Mo Fei rose slowly, his eyes like sharpened steel. His voice was quiet—but it cut through the tension like a blade.
"Two young lives are gone. Two disciples chose death over enduring the cruelty you call order."
He stepped forward, his gaze locked on her.
"You call that discipline?"
Elder Hai stirred at last. The architect behind Pa Ti Cia's twisted sense of order, he had always kept his hands clean—never directly ordering abuse, only offering suggestions and subtle approvals. But the sheer volume of testimonies, and his direct link as her superior, were damning.
---
Pa Ti Cia stepped forward again, her voice desperate. "You're all judging me while ignoring the real threat! Her—" she pointed sharply at Jia Wei Xin. "She walks with a demon! The one who exposed the attackers used demonic qi. Who else could do that but someone with demonic ties?"
A murmur rippled through the room.
Elder Hai leaned in, voice calm but cutting. "Indeed. Her association with this... mysterious figure deserves scrutiny."
Jia Wei Xin stepped forward, unfazed. Her voice sliced through the tension. "So my attacker told you the one who saved me possessed demonic qi? Interesting. How do you know the attacker? Is it because you sent them?"
"I don't know the attacker!" Pa Ti Cia barked. "You can't accuse me without proof!"
"Then you have no proof the one who saved me used demonic qi," Jia Wei Xin replied evenly. "He was just a disciple who happened to be there and save me."
---
Mei Lan stepped up, fire in her eyes. "Enough! You speak of demons while your cruelty has hurt the very people you claim to protect. Jia Wei Xin taught us compassion, fairness, and strength—not fear."
"She's right!" a male disciple echoed. "She helped me understand that strength isn't just cultivation. It's character."
Another voice chimed in. "She showed us unity. Not obedience. Real unity."
These were disciples Jia Wei Xin had inspired. And Mei Lan—who had returned to Jia Wei Xin's side—had worked tirelessly behind the scenes, rallying others, sharing stories, and slowly shifting opinion. Her courage and loyalty rekindled friendships and opened hearts.
Together, their support shattered the sect's rigid class lines.
The elders exchanged looks. The evidence was overwhelming. And so was the unity standing in front of them.
A message rang loud and clear: the sect would no longer tolerate cruelty masked as order. A new day was dawning—and Jia Wei Xin had led the way.