The silence in the lobby was deafening, a heavy weight pressing on every soul, broken only by the relentless thump of beating hearts.
Eyes fixed on Elder Yuan, anticipation hung thick in the air, each breath tense and audible.
They had come to witness his mastery, to watch him peel away the Thousand Wealth Chamber mask with surgeon's precision.
Yet, in a shocking twist, it was Elder Yuan who lay exposed, vulnerably laid bare like an open book.
His stillness, frozen in time, revealed a silent surrender—proof that he had finally met his match, and in that silence, truth was painfully revealed.
Weng Ping gazed at his master, utterly frozen, a storm of confusion and helplessness swirling within him.
His mind screamed to reveal the lies, to shout that this was all a cruel deception, but the words clung stubbornly at his throat, refusing to emerge.
Mo Jian looked at the quiet, stunned crowd before his gaze shifted to the master and disciple.
