Shen Yue's chamber inside the Sacred Family's private wing was filled with the soft clinking of teacups and the harsher sound of a vase shattering against the wall.
"That bastard humiliated me… again!"
The servants flinched as Shen Yue paced like a trapped beast, his eyes bloodshot with rage. His pride — carefully cultivated by years of privilege — had been shredded by Ling Tian's quiet confidence.
Worse, Xiao Ning'er hadn't even looked surprised by Ling Tian's intervention. She had expected it.
Like she trusted him.
No, Shen Yue thought, breathing heavily. I won't let that trash steal what's mine.
He turned to his cousin, a wiry young man with narrow eyes named Shen Kun.
"Start spreading rumors," Shen Yue snapped. "Say Ling Tian is using demonic techniques. Say Xiao Ning'er is colluding with him to hide forbidden cultivation."
Shen Kun smirked. "That'll get the disciplinary hall's attention."
"Good. Let them investigate," Shen Yue hissed. "We'll give them evidence."
Later that evening, Ling Tian sat in the library, flipping through a cultivation manual — not for himself, but to see what this era lacked. Every page reaffirmed how backward their techniques were.
Xiao Ning'er entered quietly and sat beside him, her expression uncharacteristically tense.
"I heard… rumors," she said softly. "That you and I are using heretical methods."
Ling Tian didn't look up. "Let them talk."
"They're spreading fast," she insisted. "Even the instructors are starting to ask questions."
He finally closed the book, meeting her eyes. "Then we'll give them answers they won't forget."
The next day, the disciplinary elders called both Ling Tian and Xiao Ning'er to the Judgment Pavilion — a formal hearing. The rumors had reached the upper echelons.
A small crowd had gathered, eager for blood.
As they stood before the elders, Shen Yue stepped forward, holding up a small jade talisman.
"This soul crystal recorded Xiao Ning'er's sudden spiritual leap. Combined with Ling Tian's unexplained strength, it's clear they're hiding something."
Murmurs broke out.
Ling Tian raised an eyebrow. "Are we being accused of growing too fast?"
"Cultivation must be pure," the head elder said gravely. "If you have secrets that defile the Dao…"
"I don't defile the Dao," Ling Tian said calmly, stepping forward. "I understand it."
With a wave of his hand, he summoned a glowing, silver-gold script into the air — not from any known technique, but one from a forgotten era yet to come.
Even the elder's eyes widened.
"This… this formation..." he murmured. "It's incredibly refined. Where did you learn this?"
"I developed it," Ling Tian lied smoothly. "Using meditative insights. Is that a crime?"
There was silence.
Even Shen Yue couldn't speak.
Beside him, Xiao Ning'er smiled — not cold, but proud.
And the seeds of doubt began to shift direction — not against them, but against the Sacred Family.
The storm had begun to swirl…but Ling Tian had already taken the wind from its sails.