WBICDPH Chapter 125

Chapter 125: Driven by Conviction

After so many years as sect leader, Fang Yunzi was truly exhausted—tired in body, and even more so in spirit.

Back when she took that little girl away from Zhongyun City, the child had looked up at her and asked:

“Big sister, are the rules in the outside world different from the ones inside the courtyard? Are people out there free—unbound by rules?”

Fang Yunzi hadn’t answered directly. She couldn’t bring herself to shatter the girl’s hopes for the future.

What was the difference between the world and a courtyard? Perhaps the world was just bigger.

Did being unrestrained mean you could escape rules? Of course not—at least, she never had.

Once, she believed that being strong was enough. Later, she believed that becoming sect leader would be enough. But reality proved that neither made any difference.

No matter where you stand, those who are biased against you will always find fault. And in this world, there is never a shortage of blame or slander.

Human nature is greedy and selfish—and so is the world.

Most people refuse to admit their own failures. When faced with hardship, they prefer to shift blame onto a convenient scapegoat, someone they’ve already chosen to bear their frustration.

For example, back then, Mushan and the others had done everything they could to keep her out of the Dengwen Sword Pavilion. Later, when demons attacked again and again and the entire Piaomiao Pavilion lived in fear, the protective formation was patched over and over, and those same people never mentioned the Dengwen matter again. Instead, they claimed Fang Yunzi was an incompetent leader—look at the previous fifty generations, they said, which sect leader had ever been humiliated like this by demons?

When she chose to defend, they called her shortsighted—a coward hiding behind a shell.

When she chose to attack, they called her reckless, accusing her of risking countless lives.

After endless disputes, Piaomiao Pavilion was pushed into an impossible position. Among all cultivation sects, it stood closest to demon territory. With the formation left behind by the Penglai Ancestor, it had become a gatekeeper, holding back danger for the entire cultivation world.

And yet, when Piaomiao Pavilion was in trouble and sought help, the other sects—large and small—fell silent, as if dead. Only Yanyu Mountain and a few minor sects offered any aid at all.

Fang Yunzi was truly worn out.

She was tired of the selfish infighting, tired of everything she had to carry.

Too much weighed on her shoulders. It would only take a little more—just a single straw—to break her completely.

And that straw came quickly.

One night, after Yanyu Mountain had once again been harassed by demonic cultivators, Fang Yunzi received a message from San Zongyu. Liu Xun was willing to visit Piaomiao Pavilion and help repair and reinforce the protective formation.

Liu Xun of Yanyu Mountain was one of the greatest formation masters of the age—her help would be invaluable. Fang Yunzi couldn’t wait even a moment to share the news with her fellow elders.

Though she loathed them, they were still elders of the sect. Any major decision had to involve them, or she’d be accused again of being a tyrant.

She hurried along the long bridge to Mushan’s residence. But as she approached, she heard faint voices inside his courtyard.

At this hour of the night—who was he talking to?

Sensing something off, she extended her spiritual awareness and saw a strange young boy standing before Mushan.

Her arrogant lifelong rival was now bowing his head in utter submission, speaking to the boy with exaggerated humility. The sight was almost laughable.

Then she heard Mushan address him as “Your Excellency,” and discuss details of past attacks, even pointing out weaknesses in the protective formation to make future assaults easier.

At first, Fang Yunzi couldn’t understand his motives—until she heard him say that if he helped take down Piaomiao Pavilion, he would become its next leader.

There was only one person she knew who was called “Your Excellency.”

How absurd.

She stood on the front lines defending against demonic cultivators, while her own fellow disciples conspired with the enemy behind her back—revealing their weaknesses, opening their gates, sacrificing the lives of everyone in the sect and beyond… all for the title of “sect leader.”

Fang Yunzi had never imagined someone could be so foolish—or so vile.

He humiliated her, betrayed her, stabbed her in the back again and again.

She almost laughed.

Good. Mushan, very good.

When you took your oath as an elder, you swore to live and die with Piaomiao Pavilion.

But now, it seems you no longer wish to “live” with it.

Then you can die with it.

That day, Fang Yunzi did not interrupt Mushan and his “excellency.” She declined San Zongyu’s offer of help, refused all aid from other sects, and went into seclusion—cutting herself off from everything, letting Mushan wreak havoc and letting the sect fall apart.

She was truly tired.

Tired of bearing prejudice and malice. Tired of scheming and infighting. Tired of protecting people who constantly tried to drag her into the abyss.

Didn’t he want to collude with demons? Didn’t he want to see Piaomiao Pavilion destroyed? Didn’t he want to become sect leader and trample her beneath his feet?

Fine. She would help him.

Her “seclusion” was just an excuse. She had already come out long before the sword trial began, hiding in the shadows, watching everyone in the light.

Xiao Lancheng had approached her many times, welcoming her to his side and offering all kinds of promises. But she wasn’t interested—she wasn’t helping him for anything in return.

He was too dangerous. Beneath that smiling face lay something darker than anyone else. Mushan was irritating in his open scheming, but Xiao Lancheng’s warmth and gentleness were far more terrifying—because you never knew when he’d strike a fatal blow.

Unfortunately, Mushan never understood that.

Fang Yunzi had only two conditions for cooperating with Xiao Lancheng:

First, he must not harm her disciple.

Second, Mushan must die a miserable death.

She believed that before all this began, she had never disappointed herself, nor wronged anyone.

And yet, halfway through her life, she had overturned everything she once believed in.

At times, she felt something like regret—but it was quickly drowned by exhaustion.

What use was regret? There was no going back.

She had already done too many things that betrayed her path. The moment she calmly pushed a Yanyu Mountain disciple—who had stumbled into her formation and discovered her secret—off the long bridge, she knew that even if everything could be reset, her heart would never be the same.

She was no longer who she once was.

The council hall was still in chaos.

The demons were about to storm in, yet these people neither fought nor fled—they just stood there wasting time, blaming and cursing her.

What was the point?

Fang Yunzi sneered inwardly.

When she admitted she was the one colluding with the demons—and that she intended for everyone present to be buried alongside Piaomiao Pavilion—the hall erupted.

Lin Jin felt his mind go blank.

He had imagined countless possibilities, but never this one.

The sect leader herself… the traitor who opened the gates to the enemy? How could that be?

And yet, looking at Fang Yunzi, at the shattered fragments of the Dengwen Sword, everything made sense. He couldn’t find a single flaw in the logic.

He glanced at Qi Xiaolang’s ice coffin beside him—and in that moment, he seemed to understand something.

“Why are you all shouting? It’s annoying as hell!”

Just as the hall descended into furious shouting, Liu Xun’s voice cut through everything:

“What’s the point of arguing? What’s the point of cursing her?! Even if she dies here today, it won’t change reality! The demons are about to break in and you’re still arguing—do you have any sense of priorities? Are you all children who can’t take care of yourselves?! Do you really want to die here together?!”

Her sharp, fiery temper was famous throughout the cultivation world. Under her roar, the hall finally quieted.

After a moment, someone asked nervously, “Then what should we do? Are you saying we should really defend Penglai Mountain for Piaomiao Pavilion?”

“What do you mean ‘for Piaomiao Pavilion’? You’re defending your own lives!”

Liu Xun scoffed. “Let me repeat—there’s no formation anymore. Demons can attack from all sides. We’ll all die! ALL OF US! At Yanyu Mountain, we’ve got two Sword Lords—we can fight our way out if we have to. What about you? What do you have?! The fact that we haven’t abandoned you yet and are still here helping—you should count yourselves lucky! And you’re still questioning it? What, you’re the only one with a mouth?!”

The crowd fell silent.

Her words woke them up.

They had been blinded by anger—but anger was useless now.

Their lives hung by a thread. A major sect like Yanyu Mountain might survive through sheer strength—but what about smaller sects like theirs? If abandoned, they would be nothing more than prey.

Just as hesitation spread, a tall figure stepped forward.

It was Li Jingcheng of Qingxin Sect—the one who had crossed paths with Lin Jin earlier.

Having watched silently, he now spoke first:

“I understand that when the lips are gone, the teeth grow cold. Li Jingcheng of Qingxin Sect—at your command, senior. I will give my full effort without question.”

Others quickly followed:

“Zhang Wu of Baixue Sect—at your command!”

“Qi San of Luoyang Sect—at your command!”

The chaotic crowd gradually became organized and united. Even some elders stepped forward, offering to fight alongside Yanyu Mountain.

Liu Xun looked pleased, fanning herself, about to speak again—but San Zongyu gently stopped her and stepped forward instead.

Looking out at the crowd, he said calmly:

“You misunderstand. Yanyu Mountain does not intend to take command.”

“What?!”

Their newly built confidence faltered.

Before they could protest, he continued:

“We are still within Piaomiao Pavilion’s territory. No matter what, this decision should not be ours.”

“But… the sect leader has betrayed us! The formation is gone! Are we supposed to let her lead us to our deaths?!”

“Have you all forgotten?”

Even now, San Zongyu’s voice remained calm and steady.

“The Dengwen Sword Pavilion has opened. A new sect leader has already been chosen.”

He looked toward Jiang Zhenfeng, meeting her gaze across the crowd, and gave a slight nod.

Then he bowed respectfully.

“San Zongyu of Nangan Hall, Yanyu Mountain—together with all of us—awaits the Sect Leader’s command.”