Qingxiao Sect – Heavenly Summit Hall.
The heart of the sect's authority.
All decrees, all power, flowed from here.
Lin Ce sat quietly at the lowest step outside the grand hall.
Head bowed.
Bloodied robes.
Face pale.
Before him stood four elders, seven inner sect stewards, and three black-robed judges from the Sword Enforcement Hall.
"You claim," one elder said gently, though with a frigid undertone,
"that the Wenxia Garden incident was the work of a hidden remnant from the Corpse Refinement Sect, who attempted to set up a wicked formation in our sect?"
Lin Ce gave a slight nod.
"Though lowly, I speak only truth. The man called himself the 'Blood Envoy of Three', a title of the Corpse Refinement Sect. His arts were bizarre. He perished in the blast from my Spiritburst Puppet."
A steward sneered.
"You? A mere newcomer to the inner sect—defeated a Corpse Refinement blood envoy… and lived?"
"I didn't defeat him head-on," Lin Ce replied calmly.
"I survived through preparation."
The gathered officials exchanged glances, their expressions complex.
The explosion site did bear traces of intricate formations.
The battle was precise—far beyond improvised action.
And Lin Ce's "preparations" reflected a deep grasp of Shen Changsheng's Survival Laws.
"Have we checked his background?"
The black-clad judge on the throne finally spoke.
"Yes. Origin: Qingshi Town. Orphan. Once a furnace boy at a pill hall.
Later self-recommended into the sect.
No master. No branch lineage."
"...Too clean," the judge said flatly.
"This child has a calm temperament. His methods are ruthless, but never oversteps bounds," another elder mused.
"Quite… interesting."
Lin Ce remained silent, head bowed.
Shen Changsheng once said:
"When you're questioned—
Don't argue.
Just leave them nothing they can deny."
Lin Ce had left everything:
Soul branding carved near the corpse,
Explosion dampened to avoid unintended casualties,
Even left puppet fragments that bore his own aura at the center of the site.
He didn't aim to prove his innocence.
He made it so they couldn't accuse him.
"Though he concealed events leading up to the incident,
his actions were within reason," the head elder finally said.
"Since the Corpse Sect remnant is gone, this matter ends here.
Lin Ce—do you accept the position of Shadow Division Disciple of our sect?"
Lin Ce's eyes flickered.
"Shadow… Division?"
A steward explained softly:
"The Shadow Division is our secret arm.
In charge of reconnaissance, investigations, eliminations, and preemptive strikes."
In short:
The sect's claws and ears.
A member gained access to rare resources, protection, intelligence—
but also faced the deadliest tasks.
Lin Ce fell silent for several moments,
then slowly bowed to the floor.
"This disciple is willing to give his life in service."
Shen Changsheng once said:
"The ones who survive… are those who first know how to bow their heads."
Just then, a system prompt echoed in Lin Ce's mind—
[You've triggered the Shadow Division Storyline.]
Title gained: "Seeker of Subtlety"
Rewards acquired:
[Mid-Tier Soul Veil Talisman]
[Shadow-Corrosion Pills x2]
[Sect Pardon ×1]
Side Quest Unlocked: "Silent Hunt"
Lin Ce didn't smile.
He knew—
from this moment on, he was truly stepping into the blood-soaked underbelly of cultivation.
That night, seated at the edge of a cliff beneath the moonlight,
he whispered to the wind—
"Shen Changsheng…
did you ever truly live?"
He quietly took out that tattered notebook of survival laws, flipping through each line, each page.
He paused at Rule No. 73:
"If you must appear before those in power,
be either humble—or mad.
The middle ground… dies fastest."
He memorized it.
And on a new page, in steady script, he wrote:
"Rule 73 — Confirmed."