"Zhi Xuan... Could he truly be that Zhi Xuan?" an Elder murmured, his voice trembling so violently that his white beard shook. "The envoy from the Xing Luo Plains who was rumored to have fallen into darkness? The youth who once shattered thousand-year records under the recognition of the Holy Woman?"

  An old practitioner from an information-brokering clan collapsed to his knees, his dimmed eyes staring blankly at Zhi Xuan’s back. "Sixteen tolls of the Heavenly Bell... I was there! I saw it with my own eyes! But... his appearance is different, his aura is changed!"

  In the distance, the disciples of the Sacred Pavilion Heavenly Leaf looked at one another, their faces ashen. The fear they had felt earlier was now mingled with a suffocating sense of awe.

  "So, the rumors were true," one core disciple whispered, the words catching in his throat. "He isn't just a stray Devil without origin. He is the lost legend, the highest peak of the golden generation from hundreds of years ago. No wonder... no wonder our geniuses were crushed like dry twigs before him!"

  The female Elder with the high bun, who had been so arrogant moments ago, now bowed her head deeply, no longer daring to radiate even a shred of her spiritual essence. "If he is Zhi Xuan... then the actions of Young Master Xue and Yang Jin were no longer just a challenge between geniuses, but an insult to a peak recognized by the Heavens themselves."

  "Indeed, an insult that can only be paid for with life," Grand Elder Qing He replied, her calm voice now carrying a resonance that vibrated through the souls of everyone who heard it. She stepped through the air, each footfall sprouting a green lotus petal that immediately faded into natural essence. "You speak of rules, you speak of justice, yet you forget that in the face of one who has plundered the secrets of the Rainy Night Bell, your rules are but dust-scrawls upon the water."

  Zhi Xuan slowly turned his body. His dark purple hair fluttered, and his sapphire eyes—like dead stars—stared flatly at the line of trembling Elders. "Grand Elder Qing He, it has been a long time."

  "Zhi Xuan, you have traveled a very long path since that night at the Altar of Holy Light," Grand Elder Qing He said with a long sigh, her gaze filled with deep sorrow. "But why are your hands now so thick with blood? Did the enlightenment of those sixteen tolls lead you only to an altar of slaughter?"

  Zhi Xuan lifted his Heavenly Sword, letting the droplets of silver-gold blood fall from the blade with a chime that pierced the silence. "This Zhi apologizes on behalf of himself for staining the reputation of the grand Altar of Holy Light with what transpired today."

  Grand Elder Qing He closed her eyes for a moment, letting the gentle breeze carrying the scent of sandalwood sweep away the remaining metallic stench of blood. "Reputation is but a mortal veil that rots with age, Zhi Xuan. But a splintered Dao Heart and crystallized killing intent... they will hunt you to the very gates of Samsara. You know well that the enlightenment you once received was not meant for a harvest of lives such as this."

  Zhi Xuan smirked thinly—an expression that looked both foreign and terrifying on his face drenched in golden blood. "That enlightenment gave me eyes to see the truth, Elder. And the truth I found is that this world is but a great cauldron where the strong prey upon the weak. The Heavens never cared for justice; they only care for who remains standing atop the pile of bones."

  "Impudent!" an Elder from a nearby clan shouted spontaneously, but he immediately clamped his mouth shut upon seeing Qing He's gaze.

  "Is that why you allowed that unwrapped blade to drink the essence of your own peers?" Grand Elder Qing He asked, her voice now as heavy as an ancient mountain. "Six talented practitioners... gone in a single breath."

  "Peers?" Zhi Xuan laughed coldly, a sound that tore through the silence. "They were not peers. They were wolves wearing silk robes. When this Zhi knelt under the pressure of the Corpse Mountain Seal, where was your voice of justice? Where were the rules of the Sacred Pavilion you hold so high? You were all silent, waiting for this Devil to break so you could scramble for this body and its treasures."

  Grand Elder Qing He fell silent. She looked at the withered corpses, then back at Zhi Xuan. "The world of cultivation is indeed cruel, young man. If the Holy Woman Yao Gu recognized you then, I see your growth for myself now."

  "In the name of the Ancient Zhu Clan and Ancient Hua Clan that stand behind you, I shall not seek your life," Grand Elder Qing He continued, her face serene yet her authority peerless. "However, Zhi Xuan, the slaughter of such geniuses within my territory is not something I can simply overlook."

  Zhi Xuan exhaled heavily, bowing his head slightly in a subtle gesture of respect. "Zhi respects Grand Elder Qing He. Whatever punishment is given, Zhi shall perform it—so long as the Sacred Pavilion Heavenly Leaf does not trample upon my pride."

  Grand Elder Qing He remained unmoved. Then, without her needing to turn, the law enforcement elders who had previously hesitated stepped forward, appearing around Zhi Xuan. With a flick of their fingers, they applied seals to his body.

  "Then let the Heavens be the witness," Grand Elder Qing He said, lifting her sandalwood staff. "Zhi Xuan, for the blood spilled upon this sacred marble, I sentence you to the Law of Heart Cleansing. You shall be exiled to the Nine Solitudes Law Prison for seven lunar cycles. There, your essence shall be suppressed."

  Zhi Xuan felt a foreign, cold energy creep up from his wrists, shackling his primary meridians and forcing his internal essence dragon to coil in silence. Golden seals placed by the law enforcement elders pulsed on the surface of his skin, dampening the ruby-red glow that had momentarily consumed his eyes.

  "Nine Solitudes..." Zhi Xuan murmured, his pale lips curving into a bitter smile.

  "Take him away," Grand Elder Qing He commanded tonelessly.

  The law enforcers moved forward warily, but Zhi Xuan offered no resistance. He walked with his back straight, though the wounds on his body still dripped silver-gold blood. As he passed the frozen crowd of practitioners, the atmosphere was so silent that the sound of his dragging footsteps echoed like thunder in a clear sky.

  At the entrance to the dark underground passage, Zhi Xuan paused. He glanced toward the high pavilion, where the scent of peach blossoms still lingered faintly in his sharp senses.

  "Tell the Morning Dew Fairy," Zhi Xuan whispered, his voice intended only for the wind blowing toward Ye Xishui. "This man does not need pity. Her crystal tears are too precious to be wasted on a sword already rusted by vengeance."

  "Move!" barked one of the law enforcers, shoving Zhi Xuan’s shoulder with a harsh surge of spiritual essence.

  Zhi Xuan lurched forward, yet his feet remained firm upon the marble, not swaying in the least from the guard's rough shove. He stepped into the mouth of the dark tunnel, where the air instantly turned to a biting cold, far denser than his own pure ice aura.

  On the plaza, Grand Elder Qing He watched the receding back until it was swallowed by the darkness of the earth's womb. The silence left in Zhi Xuan’s wake felt heavier than the chaos of the preceding bloodshed.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  "Great Elder," whispered the female Elder with the high bun, her voice trembling as she approached and knelt before Qing He. "Why... why let him keep that Heavenly Sword? Is that cursed blade not the source of the calamity that drinks lives?"

  Grand Elder Qing He did not answer immediately. Her eyes traced the trail of silver-gold blood slowly fading from the altar floor. "That sword is his shackle, and also his destiny. Trying to separate them now would only shatter his soul. He has two Ancient Clans behind him; a man like that cannot be killed so easily."

  Grand Elder Qing He sighed deeply, looking toward the horizon now painted in a burning orange, as if the sky itself were mourning the tragedy that had just unfolded. "That silver-gold blood... it is the silent witness that he is no longer a mere mortal, yet not entirely a devil. He is a wanderer between two worlds that reject each other."

  In the distance, from the mist-shrouded balcony of the pavilion, Ye Xishui—the Morning Dew Fairy—could only clutch her chest as it tightened with grief. She heard the whisper of the wind carried from Zhi Xuan, and the tears she had held back finally fell, crystallizing before they even touched the ground.

  "Sister..." Ye Xishui whispered hoarsely to the Eternal Snow Fairy standing beside her. "Why is he so stubborn? The Nine Solitudes is not just a prison... it is a place where the soul is forced to look into the mirror of its own sins."

  The Eternal Snow Fairy looked at her sister with pity, but her voice remained as sharp as ice. "Because he is Zhi Xuan, Xishui. Someone capable of striking the Heavenly Bell sixteen times will not deign to accept mercy. To him, pain is the only proof that he is still alive."

  Returning to the plaza, Grand Elder Qing He turned to face the practitioners still frozen in horror. "Disperse! Let these ashes be cleansed by time. Today's events are a warning to you all: never try to measure the depth of the ocean with a mere twig. And for the clans who lost their heirs..."

  Qing He’s gaze swept over the clan elders, who were now deathly pale. "...if you intend to seek revenge, ensure you are prepared to face the consequences of awakening the wrath of the Ancient Zhu and Hua Clans. The Sacred Pavilion will not interfere in the life-and-death matters you seek for yourselves."

  An elder from the East Sun Clan dared to step forward, his voice shaking. "B-but Great Elder... Young Master Yang Jin... he was the hope of our future! Does he simply die without justice?"

  "Justice?" Qing He snorted softly, a sound that felt like thunder in the elder's ears. "Whose justice do you speak of? The justice of six men surrounding one wounded man? Or the justice of trying to plunder the fruits of another's hard labor?"

  "If you still wish for it, you may send your remaining geniuses," Grand Elder Qing He continued. "The arena to determine who is worthy to be the Dao Protector of the three Holy Fairies remains open to the clans who hope their heirs might possess the Ancient Cultivation Technique of the Sacred Pavilion Heavenly Leaf."

  "Therefore," Grand Elder Qing He’s voice traveled low, sweeping away the last heat from the now-cooling Eternal Sun Mirror. "You are guests in this Western Region, but surrounding someone with intent to kill is forbidden. If the 'hopeful sons' of each clan continue to behave like this, I myself shall bar them from the opportunity to become the Dao Protectors of my Pavilion's Holy Fairies."

  The clan elders present immediately hung their heads, their tongues seemingly locked by a mystical seal. The authority radiated by Grand Elder Qing He was not just a pressure of internal essence, but an indisputable law of nature. Before the ancestor, the arrogance of the great clans crumbled into nothingness.

  "Zhi Xuan has received his punishment," Grand Elder Qing He continued, slowly rotating her sandalwood staff. "But for those of you still standing here with hearts full of envy, remember one thing: the Sacred Pavilion Heavenly Leaf will not be a shield for those who sow thorns but expect flowers."

  The Elder of the East Sun Clan could only give a final salute with trembling hands before he and his guards lifted the stiff body of Yang Jin. One by one, the representatives of the great clans left the plaza with heavy steps, carrying a shame that would stain them for generations to come.

  As the plaza began to empty, the Eternal Snow Fairy glided down from her pavilion, landing with the grace of a goddess before Qing He. She bowed respectfully, but her eyes betrayed her doubt.

  "Master," the Eternal Snow Fairy whispered. "Is the sentence of the Nine Solitudes not too heavy for him? His internal wounds are severe, and with the essence-suppressing seals... I fear he will not survive past the third month."

  Grand Elder Qing He looked at the sky, now completely dark, where the stars were beginning to show. "Snow, you always see with eyes of compassion, but you forget who that man is. He is the youth who forced the Heavens to grant enlightenment through sixteen tolls of the bell. His soul is not made of silk, but of steel forged in the fires of suffering."

  "Then, why did Master still let him keep that sword?" the Eternal Snow Fairy asked again, her voice tinged with anxiety.

  "Because that sword is the mirror of his soul," Qing He replied calmly. "If he is able to subdue the darkness within the Nine Solitudes, then that sword will become a pure tool for protecting the Dao. But if he fails... then let the Nine Solitudes be the final tomb for a lost legend. This is the final gamble for his fate."

  Suddenly, a woman in a sky-blue veil appeared beside them. Ye Xishui, the Morning Dew Fairy, stared straight toward the cold prison gate.

  "Great Elder," Ye Xishui said, her voice as soft as a breeze but with a strong resolve. "Zhi Xuan said he does not need pity. However, he also said this world is a great cauldron where the strong prey upon the weak. If the Sacred Pavilion truly upholds justice, why do we not give him a chance to prove that his past enlightenment was not a mistake?"

  Qing He smiled thinly, looking at her favorite disciple. "Xishui, you always have a heart as clear as a lake. What is it you want?"

  "Allow me," Ye Xishui took a deep breath. "Allow me to send a drop of Morning Dew Essence into his prison cell every full moon. Not to free him, but to ensure his soul is not extinguished by the cold of the solitude. If he is truly a Devil, then my holy essence will reject him. But if there is still a glimmer of light in his heart, he will endure."

  Grand Elder Qing He fell silent for a moment, stroking her white beard. "A drop of Morning Dew Essence... that is half of your daily cultivation. You are certain you want to do this for someone who calls himself a Devil?"

  Ye Xishui nodded without hesitation. "He carries a burden we do not understand, Elder. If the enlightenment of the sixteen tolls is real, then he is an asset to the entire world of cultivation, not just an enemy of these petty clans."

  "Very well," Grand Elder Qing He turned, walking toward the depths of the sacred pavilion. "Do as your heart commands. But remember, Xishui... never try to pull someone out of the darkness unless you are prepared to be swallowed by it yourself."

  Once the Great Elder's figure vanished into the mist, the Eternal Snow Fairy gripped her sister's shoulder. "Xishui, you are playing with fire. Gu Fengyan, or this Zhi Xuan, is no longer the youth in the history books. He is dangerous."

  Ye Xishui stared at the dark underground gate where Zhi Xuan's shadow had long since disappeared. "I know, Sister. But even a sword rusted by vengeance still has the gleam of metal beneath it. I only want to see... if that gleam still exists."

  Deep within the Nine Solitudes Law Prison, in a cell illuminated only by the glow of mystical seals, Zhi Xuan sat cross-legged on the frozen stone floor. The Heavenly Sword was placed across his lap. Though his internal essence was shackled, his sapphire eyes remained fixed sharply on the darkness.

  "Seven full moons," Zhi Xuan whispered, his voice echoing in the cramped space. "Time enough to reflect... on what it means to be mortal again."

  In the depths unreachable by moonlight, the darkness crept like a thick liquid clogging the pores. Zhi Xuan sat motionless, while the Heavenly Sword on his lap occasionally emitted a soft hum, as if the blade were mourning its thirst for blood being forcibly halted.

  "Seven full moons," Zhi Xuan whispered again, his voice now raspier, clashing with the sound of water dripping from the frozen prison ceiling. "Time enough to reflect... on what it means to be mortal again."

  "To be mortal?" A raspy, cynical voice echoed within his mind. Ruo Xianxue laughed softly, the echo of her laughter painful within Zhi Xuan’s Sea of Consciousness, which was currently being suppressed by Qing He's seals. "You will never be mortal again, Zhi Xuan. You have stepped too far into the abyss to simply look back at the shores of life."

  Zhi Xuan closed his eyes, letting the cold from the stone floor seep into his marrow. "Be quiet, Ruo. You are part of the darkness I am trying to understand. If I must rot here for seven moons, let this silence be the furnace to re-forge my splintered Dao Heart."

  "A splintered Dao Heart cannot be forged with silence alone!" Ruo interrupted sharply. "Look at the seals on your wrists. Qing He is not just suppressing your essence; she is trying to erase your killing intent. She wants you to return to being the youth who struck the bell. But you know well... that youth died long ago."

  Zhi Xuan fell silent. Images of flames consuming his clan’s home, screams tearing through the night, and the cold of the first sword he ever held returned like ghosts. His pale fingers stroked the hilt of the Heavenly Sword, now naked without its white cloth.

  "That youth indeed died," Zhi Xuan replied softly, his eyes slowly opening to stare into the void. "But the man standing today also does not wish to be the devil you desire. I am a sword, Ruo. And a sword does not choose who it strikes; it only follows the hand that holds it. The problem is... my hand is now shackled by a guilt that shouldn't be there."