The great hall of the Han Estate was no longer a place of celebration. The air was thick with the suffocating pressure of multiple powerful cultivators, turning the festive atmosphere into a courtroom of execution.
At the center of the hall, Han Ye was forced to his knees. His white hair was matted with mud and blood, and his crimson eyes were wide with a terror he couldn't voice.
Han Xion, the Head of the Han Clan, stood at the front. At the 5th Stage of the Foundation Establishment Realm, his aura felt like a mountain pressing down on the room. Beside him stood Elder Han Mo, a man whose cultivation was at the very Peak of Foundation Establishment. His eyes were cold, calculating the loss of face the clan had suffered.
Han Xion: (His voice booming with disappointment) "Han Ye... we took you in. We gave you a roof, scraps from our table, a place in this world despite your useless trait. Why? Why would you bite the hand that raised you? Why steal the Stone of Rebirth?"
Han Ye gasped for air, his lungs burning. He looked up, his lips trembling, trying to scream that it was Han Jun who had handed him the jade.
Han Ye: "I... Master... I didn't—"
But before he could finish, a new, even more terrifying pressure slammed into him. It was Elder Mo Chen of the Mo Clan. He sat calmly sipping tea, but his eyes were narrowed.
Elder Mo Chen: "Silence, thief. A servant has no right to speak when the heavens are judging him." (He intensified his spiritual aura, a weight so heavy that Han Ye's face was slammed directly into the cold stone floor, snapping his jaw shut.)
Watching from the side was Lord Mo, the head of the Mo Clan, and his daughter, Mo Rin. Unlike her father, who was laughing with the Shen Clan patriarch about the Han family's "security failures," Mo Rin remained quiet. Her eyes were fixed on Han Ye. She knew the truth—this marriage was a sham, a political ploy to get her father closer to the Stone of Rebirth. She saw the desperation in the servant's eyes and felt a flicker of doubt, but she remained silent.
Elder Han Mo: "There is no need for further questioning, Patriarch. The boy was caught red-handed with the stone. The laws of the Han Clan are clear. Theft of the Ancestry Treasure is punishable by soul-rending and death."
Patriarch Shen: (Laughing from the side) "A wise decision, Elder. It would be a shame if the Sun Empire heard that a mere 'trash' servant managed to outsmart the Han Clan's security arrays."
Han Xion sighed, the weight of the Mo and Shen families' presence forcing his hand. He couldn't show weakness now.
Elder Mo Chen: (With a cruel smirk) "Indeed. He is clearly guilty. Lock him away so he can contemplate his insignificance before he dies."
As the guards grabbed Han Ye by his hair and dragged him out, he looked back one last time. He saw Han Jun standing in the shadows of the pillars, a look of immense relief and smug victory on his face.
Han Ye's heart grew cold. As the heavy iron doors of the dungeon slammed shut behind him, the last thing he felt wasn't fear—it was a burning, primordial rage.
As the heavy iron doors groaned shut, muffling Han Ye's desperate muffled cries, a heavy silence fell over the Great Hall. The guards' footsteps faded, but the tension among the cultivators only tightened.
Han Xion, the Clan Head, narrowed his eyes, his gaze shifting from the bloodstain on the floor to the empty pedestal where the Stone of Rebirth had once sat. His Foundation Establishment aura flickered like a dying flame, agitated.
Han Xion: "Wait. Something is not right. The Ancestry Hall is protected by the Blood-Lock Array. Only those with the true blood of the Han lineage can pass the threshold without triggering an immediate lethal strike from the formation. How could a servant with 'Low-Grade traits;and no cultivation even step foot inside?"
He turned his gaze toward the Mo and Shen patriarchs, his voice lowering to a dangerous growl.
Han Xion: "There must be someone behind him. Someone who provided him a blood-proxy or a bypass talisman. This 'trash' wouldn't be bold enough—or capable enough—to steal from the very heart of the Han Clan alone."
The Mo Clan Head shifted in his seat, his eyes flashing with hidden greed, while the Shen Patriarch looked on with an amused, mocking smile. The accusation of an internal traitor or an outside saboteur hung in the air like a poisoned fog.
Before the Patriarch could dive deeper into his suspicion, Elder Han Mo—the Peak Foundation Establishment expert—suddenly stood up. His voice cut through the air like a whip, loud and authoritative, effectively drowning out the Patriarch's line of questioning.
Elder Han Mo: "Enough speculation! If there is a conspirator, they are still within these walls! Guards! Seal the estate! No one—I repeat, no one—is to leave until the sun rises!"
He turned to the lead guard, his expression one of frantic, stern command.
Elder Han Mo: "Go! Secure the Ancestry Hall and the perimeter! Gather every maid, every footman, and every low-level disciple. Question them all! Use whatever means necessary to find out who this brat was talking to. We cannot allow the Mo and Shen families to think the Han Clan is a house of sieve-like security!"
Han Jun, still lurking in the shadows, felt his stomach drop as the guards scrambled to follow the Elder's orders. He hadn't expected the Patriarch to realize the blood-array discrepancy so quickly. He looked at Elder Han Mo, wondering if the Elder was truly trying to find a traitor, or if his sudden outburst was a desperate attempt to bury the truth under a mountain of chaotic "investigations."
Mo Rin, the quiet lady of the Mo Clan, watched the Elder with narrowed eyes. She noticed how he had redirected the Patriarch's logic. An elder so eager to silence the room is usually an elder with something to hide, she thought, her fingers tracing the rim of her tea cup.
As the estate descended into a frantic hunt for a "shadow mastermind," Han Ye lay in the darkness of the Black Water Dungeon, his body broken and his fate sealed by a lie that was now being reinforced by the very leaders of the clan.