Now that the two were face to face, it was only natural for the exchange to be filled with sharp jabs and veiled barbs.
Lan Le gave his version of events once more, his voice loud and full of barely disguised triumph. Every word dripped with judgment, and he made sure to stress how Bai Yang and An Ze had acted with unchecked arrogance, even going so far as to bully their peers on another peak.
"Junior Sister Song has spoiled them for too long. Now look what it's come to—Bai Yang and An Ze have no respect for anyone and attack others without restraint. Sect Master, this can't go on. If everyone followed Junior Sister Song's example, this sect would fall into chaos."
Lan Le had long despised Song Wanníng for how she coddled her disciples and used her exceptional cultivation and pill-making skills to skirt the rules. Her disciples were treated like stars in the sect—admired, envied, and never held accountable.
He had enough of it.
The Sect Master's headache deepened. These two were pillars of the sect, and taking sides was out of the question. Yet, reconciliation between them was easier said than done. Every time they clashed, the outcome was a storm.
"Junior Sister Song, how do you explain this?" It was clear that Bai Yang and An Ze were in the wrong. For fairness' sake, punishment had to be meted out. But if Song Wanníng chose to make a scene, it would only leave everyone with egg on their face.
Ideally, a quiet resolution could be reached. But knowing her temperament, that seemed unlikely.
All eyes turned toward Song Wanníng.
Bai Yang's gaze remained unreadable, but inside, a rare trace of unease crept in.
It was laughable, really. In all his years beside Song Wanníng, he had never felt nervous. Before, he would have bet everything that she would argue fiercely with Uncle Master Lan on his behalf, then walk out with him in tow. But now, he wasn't so sure.
Even so, deep in his heart, he couldn't help hoping that she would still stand by him—still put him first.
Song Wanníng rose slowly, her eyes drifting toward Bai Yang.
Their eyes met.
The gaze was warm, as it had always been, and Bai Yang felt his heart flutter. He knew it. She still cared. Surely she had struggled, having to keep her distance all these days.
His lips curved ever so slightly. If she would just reach out, he was willing to forgive everything and return to her side. So long as she made the first move.
He looked up, locking eyes with that familiar, gentle warmth.
The next moment, her hand lifted.
And without warning—
Crack
A slap landed squarely on his face.
The sound echoed through the hall, sharp and unforgiving, sinking into every heart like a blade. The blow was laced with spiritual energy. Even at barely one percent of her full strength, it was more than enough for the already-injured Bai Yang.
Several more teeth flew loose. One side of his face ballooned up instantly, and his body was sent crashing to the side, unable even to crawl back up.
Lan Le froze in shock, and Wen Mingyu's eyes went wide like saucers. He rubbed at them furiously, half-convinced he was hallucinating.
The Sect Master sighed and closed his eyes. Not the first time he had seen something like this.
It seemed Song Wanníng was still furious with Bai Yang.
"Senior Brother Lan," Song Wanníng said lightly, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Her voice was sweet. Almost cheerful.
"Do you feel better now?"
Before Lan Le could answer, her hand rose again.
One slap. Then another. Then two more in quick, vicious rhythm.
Bai Yang, like a broken rag doll, was flung back and forth until he slammed into the floor again with a thud. His body dropped along with his pride, his heart plunging into an abyss.
He lay there, numb to the pain. All he felt was confusion.
All this, just for taking a single pill?
Why?
A strange and terrifying emotion swelled in his chest—an unfamiliar panic.
Only now did he realize, he was no longer the most cherished disciple of Song Wanníng.
The hall was silent. Lan Le stood speechless, too stunned to even breathe. This wasn't like her at all. When it came to her disciples, Song Wanníng had always been fiercely protective. Now, with this sudden reversal—could she be playing at something?
"Master, why… why would you side with outsiders?" An Ze was the first to recover, stepping forward and shouting at Song Wanníng, "Senior Brother is still injured. How could you strike him like that?"
She was going too far.
His chest heaved with rage, his glare dripping with bitterness.
But before he could say more, a clean backhand sent him crashing headfirst to the floor.
"This is your doing," Song Wanníng said coldly. "A useless brat who brings trouble wherever he goes."
Another slap.
Crack.
An Ze slumped to the ground, unconscious, blood seeping from his mouth.
The silence in the hall was unbearable.
Lan Le stared at her as if seeing a madwoman. Today, Song Wanníng seemed unhinged.
But her smile remained sweet, innocent even, as she turned to him.
It was terrifying.
"Senior Brother Lan," she said sweetly, turning back to him, "are you satisfied now?"
He swallowed.
His throat had gone dry.
"If not, I can continue."
"N-no need," Lan Le choked out. "There's no need…"
He wanted justice, not to see Bai Yang and An Ze destroyed.
"Are you truly satisfied?" she asked, looking a bit disappointed.
She had been hoping for a few more hits.
But…
Did a villainess really need to care whether something was reasonable or not?
If she felt like doing it, she would.
Song Wanníng smiled once more and lifted her hand again. This time, she didn't even hesitate.
Two more slaps.
An Ze's unconscious body jerked as her hand landed again.
Bai Yang was flung back once more like a shattered doll.
Lu Nanfeng, who had been frozen with fear the entire time, suddenly felt her gaze shift to him.
Before he could protest, the sound of skin meeting skin rang out once again.
He stumbled backward, clutching his face.
Lan Le stood so fast his chair tipped.
"You lunatic!"
He shot Song Wanníng a fierce glare, then stormed out in anger and disbelief. Wen Mingyu stumbled after him, his face pale with horror. Just now, watching Senior Aunt Song hit An Ze looked more like corpse-beating than discipline. He dared not stay. And so the farce ended, leaving the Sect Master rubbing his temples.
"The Heavenly Talent Competition is just around the corner, and now you—this—"
The Sect Master's voice was tight with frustration. With Ye Chuxue still injured and Bai Yang now beaten half to death, the two most promising contenders for the sect were…
"So tell me, Sect Master. What exactly should I have done instead?" Song Wanníng raised a brow and lazily glanced at her three disciples. "Bai Yang acted without permission. I'm simply teaching my disciples. Does the Sect Master believe I was wrong?
Back when I didn't discipline them, you had plenty to say. Now that I'm stepping in, you still complain?" She adjusted her robes with a sigh, then turned and walked away.
Her crimson skirts swayed gently in the breeze.
Like a lone boat drifting farther and farther away.
Bai Yang, still lying on the ground, lifted his hand as if to catch a fading light.
But it was too late.
He watched helplessly as Song Wanníng disappeared without ever looking back.
His hand fell limply. His chest suddenly felt hollow.
He could still hear her voice, echoing from another time.
"Bai Yang, from today on, you are my disciple."
"Bai Yang, this is a freshly refined top-grade pill. It's free of impurities. Try it. From now on, I'll craft your pills personally."