An Apology

Lin Zhiyue and Cen Xi'er stood several zhang away from the Shattered Snow Congealing Lingzhi, facing off against the disciples of the Qingling Sect.

The female cultivator with the Ice Spiritual Root kept her eyes locked on the lingzhi, as if she already considered it her personal property. Behind her, several disciples had subtly positioned themselves to block the exit of the valley.

Lin Zhiyue calculated her options. If they really came to blows, she could use her Mist-shrouded Steps to snatch the lingzhi and make a quick getaway. However, making an enemy of the Qingling Sect would be quite troublesome—

Before she could think any further, a figure walked briskly into the valley.

The newcomer wore a teal-green disciple robe and had a longsword hanging from his waist. His features were handsome, but his face was currently livid.

Lin Zhiyue recognized him—Song Mu, the Eldest Senior Brother of the Qingling Sect. During the preliminary trials in Qingxia Town, she had seen him sitting on the spectator stands talking to Senior Sister Lin of the Biluo Immortal Sect, and she had run into him a few times during subsequent gatherings between the sects.

He was usually known for his steady composure, but right now, he was walking in with giant strides. Veins throbbed faintly at his temples, and the oppressive aura radiating from him made the surrounding air tighten.

His gaze swept across the valley, pausing slightly when he saw Lin Zhiyue, and his expression darkened even further.

He walked straight through the crowd of his fellow disciples and stopped in front of Tang Yiran, who was shrinking back at the very end of the line.

Tang Yiran's face had already gone pale the moment she saw her Eldest Senior Brother walking toward her. She took half a step back, but her knees bumped against the ice mound behind her, leaving her with nowhere to retreat.

Song Mu stood before her, looking down at his junior sister. When he spoke, his voice was very low, yet it carried an unmistakable rage. “Tang Yiran, come with me.”

He grabbed her wrist with considerable force. Tang Yiran was dragged forward, stumbling a couple of steps and letting out a startled cry.

Without letting go, Song Mu dragged her straight to Lin Zhiyue. When he finally released her wrist, Tang Yiran was standing barely two steps away from Lin Zhiyue, her head lowered, not daring to look up. Song Mu turned his head to glare at her, his voice as cold as ice. “Apologize.”

Tang Yiran's lips trembled as she stared at Lin Zhiyue with shifting eyes, unable to say a word for a long moment. She clutched her sleeves, her knuckles turning white, her eyes darting about as if searching for the right words.

After a moment, she spoke. Her voice was as soft as a mosquito's buzz, tinged with a whiny, aggrieved tone. “Senior Sister... I didn't mean to... That Mirror Demon chased me the entire way, and I was so scared... I didn't notice you standing nearby when I was running... The light from the bronze mirror bounced off on its own. I didn't do it on purpose...”

Song Mu's brow furrowed even deeper. Looking at his junior sister who was still making excuses, the last trace of warmth vanished from his voice. “You didn't notice anyone nearby when you were running? You were running wildly with that bronze mirror fragment in your hand. When you ran straight into Junior Sister Lin, you clearly saw her. Instead of warning her to get out of the way, you accelerated past her, drawing the Mirror Demon's guiding light onto her. Your spiritual energy trail along the way was fully recorded by the secret realm's patrol formation. Did you really think no one would find out just because you ran away?”

Tang Yiran's shoulders shook violently. She looked up at Song Mu, then quickly lowered her head again, her lips twitching for a long time without producing any sound.

Tears welled up in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. She lowered her head and sniffled twice, her voice cracking with tears. “I'm... I'm sorry... Senior Sister Lin... I was really terrified back then... I didn't know the Mirror Demon was that powerful... I will never do it again...”

Lin Zhiyue looked at her tear-stained face and remained silent.

She was no saint. Having been nearly trapped to death in the Mirror Demon's world because of someone else's actions, a mere “I was terrified” and “I'll never do it again” were not enough to make her genuinely say, “It's fine.”

She simply stood there quietly, her eyes resting on the top of Tang Yiran's lowered head, neither nodding nor shaking her head.

Cen Xi'er stood beside Lin Zhiyue, having heard every single word.

Looking at Tang Yiran's weeping and wailing display, she felt nothing but disgust.

Song Mu waited for a moment. Seeing that Lin Zhiyue showed no intention of softening her stance or offering forgiveness, he fell silent for a couple of breaths before turning his head to look at the Shattered Snow Congealing Lingzhi.

The thousand-year-old lingzhi still glowed quietly with a faint blue spiritual light amidst the ice crystal mist. It seemed to be only a day or two away from maturing completely.

He withdrew his gaze and spoke, his tone calm yet carrying an unquestionable decisiveness. “This Shattered Snow Congealing Lingzhi shall serve as the Qingling Sect's gift of apology to Tiance Palace.”

The moment those words left his mouth, Cui Yu'er was the first to explode.

She had been standing in the crowd watching the scene with confusion, but now she took two strides forward, her voice rising to a sharp shriek. “Eldest Senior Brother! On what grounds?! I was the one who saw it first! I have an Ice Spiritual Root, and you know exactly how important this lingzhi is to me! How can you just give away something I've been eyeing for so long to an outsider?”

Song Mu turned to look at her. His gaze was perfectly flat, yet under his stare, Cui Yu'er's momentum instantly shrank by half.

When he spoke, his tone was calm but carried an irrefutable weight. “This Shattered Snow Congealing Lingzhi was originally discovered by me. Had it not been immature, I would have harvested it long ago. Using my own discovery as an apology now does no harm to the Qingling Sect, and it provides Tiance Palace with a proper resolution.”

Cui Yu'er's face flushed red and white in turns. Her knuckles went white as she gripped her sword hilt, her resentful gaze shifting from Song Mu's face to Tang Yiran.

Tang Yiran shrank back, not daring to raise her head. Tears still clung to her face, but her crying had stopped. She seemed so terrified of Cui Yu'er's glare that she did not even dare to make a sound.

Cui Yu'er turned her eyes to Lin Zhiyue, her gaze filled with a rage as sharp as icicles, but in the end, she said nothing more.

Song Mu stood there, his authority as the Eldest Senior Brother of the Qingling Sect keeping the entire area under control. Knowing that arguing further would yield no results, she simply flung her sleeves heavily and retreated to the back.

Before backing away, she gave Tang Yiran a venomous glare. The intent in that look made Tang Yiran's shoulders slump even lower.

The valley fell silent for a brief moment.

Lin Zhiyue looked at the thousand-year-old lingzhi flowing with spiritual light, then at the exhausted-looking Song Mu and the huddled Tang Yiran standing before her. She could not quite describe the feeling in her heart.