Chapter Sixty-Four: Midnight Confrontation in the Palace

As the group was about to enter the council hall, a sudden clamor of hurried footsteps echoed behind them. Bai Muyun and his companions turned to see a figure step slowly from the darkness, followed by the emergence of hundreds more, swiftly surrounding them.

Though this was the Bai family estate, the atmosphere was tense and ominous. The captain of the guards, Qiao Xuange, raised his voice, “Master Feng, what do you intend to do?”

The intruder was Bai Muyun’s cousin, Bai Mufeng, a direct descendant of the former family head, Bai Shuyue, and a man of significant standing within the clan.

“We have come to pay our respects to the family head,” Bai Mufeng answered coldly.

“Is this how you show your respect? Without announcement, and armed? Disperse at once!” Qiao Xuange demanded.

The crowd behind Bai Mufeng hesitated, their steps faltering.

Bai Mufeng surveyed the gathering, his voice rising, “And who do you think you are, Qiao Xuange? You’re nothing but a household guard. Is this how you address your masters?”

Qiao Xuange retorted angrily, “You disgrace your name as a Bai clansman, showing such disrespect in front of the family head. Have you forgotten the rules of our house?”

Seeing the fear on his followers’ faces, Bai Mufeng cast aside all restraint and shouted, “What are you all afraid of? Bai Muyun is already a cripple—he’s in no position to be family head anymore. The so-called ‘Silversilk Jade Sword’ is a joke now.”

Bai Muyun watched in silence, his expression calm. None of this surprised him; he had long foreseen that the first turmoil would arise from within, though he hadn’t expected it so soon. Clearly, someone had emboldened them from behind the scenes.

The guards shouted back, “How dare you, Bai Mufeng! To rebel against your superior is punishable by death, according to the rules!”

Bai Mufeng sneered, “Punish me? Look around—how long have we waited here in ambush? Where are his protectors now? Besides, we’re only here to ask the family head to step down.”

Some among the crowd, emboldened by the sight of the family head’s isolation, joined in, “Yes, please let someone more capable lead us.”

Bai Muyun glanced around. Tonight, the Bai estate was eerily silent, the usual brilliance of lanterns absent. He felt a twinge of sorrow as he realized none of the higher-ups had shown themselves—they must have tacitly agreed to let Bai Mufeng cause trouble.

He smiled faintly, “The Bai family, apart from the main branch, has eleven collateral lines. Our numbers have dwindled, but there are still at least seven branches of comparable strength. Tell me, cousin, to which branch should I yield my position?”

“Of course—” Bai Mufeng began, but then caught himself. “Of course, the clan should select a leader. Let the capable take the post.”

Bai Muyun answered coldly, “I have no wish to remain head. But if it is by the clan’s selection, why is your main branch so desperate to force my hand? Or do you harbor other intentions?”

Bai Mufeng was at a loss for words. As a direct descendant of Bai Shuyue, he had always assumed that, without Bai Muyun, the headship would fall to his own line. But if he said this aloud, the other branches would surely unite against him. Only now did he realize he had acted rashly—no wonder the others had left him to take the lead.

Seeing his cousin’s silence, Bai Muyun sighed, “Cousin, I am of no more use to the Bai family. What I wish to know is—what did the other four great families promise you?”

Bai Mufeng was taken aback. Only a few high-level members of the main branch knew about the Sima family’s secret overtures. Betraying the family by contacting outsiders was a grave taboo—how had word leaked?

He hesitated, then gritted his teeth, “Since matters have come to this, I might as well tell you. The Sima family said that as long as we hand over the ‘Azure Jade Sword,’ they’ll ask nothing else.”

The crowd erupted in an uproar. Of the eight great spiritual artifacts of Wuzhou, the ‘Azure Jade Sword’ was among the finest—demanding it was one thing, but to give it to outsiders was unthinkable.

Bai Mufeng continued, “Our family’s strength is but a shadow of its former self. We have only seven experts of the Golden Core stage left, one of whom is an outsider in our service. Most of our Fusion-stage experts are gone. How can we stand against the four great families? It would mean our destruction. If trading the sword secures the Sima family’s protection, is that not preferable?”

Many found this argument persuasive. Why cling to dreams of dominance in Wuzhou City? Maintaining their current way of life was enough.

Bai Muyun replied evenly, “I doubt it’s only the Sima family—no doubt the other three have reached out to other branches as well. The less they ask for, the less trustworthy they are. The four great families fear interference from the City Lord’s Office; what they want is Bai bloodshed. So long as the strife remains within our clan, even the royal house cannot intervene. Once you kill me, the branches will turn on each other in a savage struggle. Then the four families can negotiate separately with each, demanding more and more in exchange for support, until the Bai family is drained of every last resource.”

His words thundered through the hall, stunning everyone into silence.

Bai Mufeng was no fool—he understood the implications. But at this point, he was riding a tiger, unable to dismount. If Bai Muyun lived through the night, he himself would not survive another day.

Fury overcame him and he shouted, “Bai Muyun, still trying to deceive us with your lies? You’ve cheated the Bai family for ten years and usurped the headship long enough. Today, we swear to kill you. Give up your life!” With that, he signaled his followers to attack.

Qiao Xuange stepped forward, shielding Bai Muyun. “Protect the family head!” he cried.

“Protect the family head!” echoed the guards as they surged forward, clashing with Bai Mufeng’s men. The clang of weapons and the cries of battle filled the night, but the defenders were hopelessly outnumbered.

How could a few dozen guards stand against hundreds of Bai Mufeng’s followers? Any one of them could end Bai Muyun’s life with a single stroke. Seeing the blood, the severed limbs, Bai Muyun closed his eyes, resigned to his fate. His only regret was for his loyal guards.

Qiao Xuange, captain of the guards and a slave by birth, shed his customary deference; his dual blades whirled as he cut down foes relentlessly, many Bai clansmen falling at his feet. He called back, “We’ll cover you! This place won’t hold. Get the family head to Miss Zhulu—break out of the city together!”

Some responded, dragging Bai Muyun toward the rear mountain.

In the chaos, Bai Mufeng seized a moment when Qiao Xuange was distracted and stabbed him in the thigh. Qiao Xuange collapsed to one knee, and two more blades struck his shoulders, wringing a cry of pain from him.

Bai Muyun heard the cry, looked back, and saw the ground strewn with bodies. Qiao Xuange, bloodied and kneeling, was now at Bai Mufeng’s mercy, a sword at his throat. Bai Muyun shook off the hands pulling him away and shouted, “Stop!”

Bai Mufeng was livid—a mere household slave had killed so many of his followers for the sake of a cripple. “No one can save this dog today! He dies by my hand!” he thundered, raising his sword to strike, while Qiao Xuange met his fate with stubborn defiance.

Suddenly, a voice rang out, rich with spiritual power, cutting through the tumult: “I want to see if even I am powerless here.” Instantly, everyone froze, turning to look toward the source of the voice.