I. The Echo of Horror and the Shadows' Retreat
The devastating explosion that shook the honored podium silenced the entire Tournament arena. Thick black smoke mixed with splinters of wood and jade dust billowed high, swallowing the spot where the Murim Alliance Leaders were supposed to be safe. The cries of celebration that had just reverberated were instantly transformed into screams of horror that pierced the bone.
The young warriors, who had just cheered their victory over the black-clad horde, now staggered back, their faces pale. They looked towards the destroyed podium, unable to believe what had just happened.
How could it be?
The question flashed through everyone's mind. An explosion of a massive amount of gunpowder. Inside the Shaolin Temple. How could the enemy smuggle such a huge explosive beneath the heavily guarded podium without detection? This must have been planned long ago, set up deceitfully, and executed precisely when everyone's attention was diverted by the fierce battle against the Sun Fire Demon and Moon Ice Demon. This was a third-layer trap, a cruel plan that exploited every moment of chaos.
Amidst the turmoil, Sun Fire Demon and Moon Ice Demon, who were cornered and severely injured, seized the moment. With their last reserves of strength, they rose. Moon Ice Demon pulled the dagger out of her shoulder with a painful growl, while Sun Fire Demon dragged his shattered body.
"This is not over yet!" shouted Sun Fire Demon, his voice hoarse but full of menace. "You have only paid the interest! The root will soon destroy the entire Jianghu!"
Moon Ice Demon merely gave a cold sneer, her gaze sweeping the arena with hatred. They leaped from the ruins and disappeared into the dark forest, leaving a promise of destruction in their wake.
All eyes, including Abbot Xuan Ye and Tang Feng, were fixed on the podium. They could not pursue. The immediate priority was the Leaders lying helpless.
"Quick! Help the Sect Leaders!" shouted Feng Yu, his face tight with tension.
The young warriors, led by Feng Yu, Mei Lin, and Tan Long, rushed towards the shattered podium. They began clearing the smoke and debris, their hearts filled with dread over what they would find.
Abbot Xuan Ye, though his body was bloodied and his Inner Qi was nearly spent, let out a long sigh. He tried to calm his mind, forcing the remnants of his Inner Qi to keep flowing. This was a disaster. Worse than he had imagined. Losing the Leaders under the protection of Shaolin was an unforgivable shame, and an immeasurable loss.
II. The Price Paid: Casualties on the Podium
The scene on the honored podium was an unspeakable horror.
Among the shattered wooden ruins, the Alliance Leaders lay scattered. The effect of the Silent Blossom Poison of Ten Thousand Tastes still bound them, making them unable to mobilize their Inner Qi to shield themselves from the explosion.
Grand Leader Master Hong of the Kaypang Sect, his body thrown far, had lost one leg. Blood soaked his remaining limb, drenching his valiant robes. He was still conscious, moaning softly, trying to reach for his Kaypang staff. Kaypang disciples quickly surrounded him, tears streaming down their faces.
Abbess Jing Hua of Emei, lay beside him, having lost one arm. Her face was deathly pale from blood loss, her eyes closed. Her breathing was shallow, indicating she was on the brink of death. Mei Lin knelt beside her, holding her remaining hand, trying to channel a small amount of Qi to stabilize her condition. Tears streamed uncontrollably from Mei Lin's eyes.
Other Sect Leaders like Sect Leader Wu Tian of Wudang and Murong Yuan of the Murong Family lay severely injured. Their bodies were intact, but they were conscious, writhing in pain, their Inner Qi still paralyzed. They tried to speak, but only groans emerged. Feng Yu, with a grim expression, helped lift Sect Leader Wu Tian, while Murong disciples frantically sought aid for Murong Yuan.
However, the most terrifying were the two figures lying still, wrapped in eternal silence.
Sect Leader Yue of Mount Hua lay face down, his body crushed by a large wooden beam. When the young warriors lifted the beam, they found that his neck was broken, his eyes wide open and empty. Dried blood stained the corner of his lips. He showed no signs of life. A heartbreaking wail erupted from the Mount Hua disciples who saw the state of their master.
Beside him, Head of the Namgung Family, Namgung Woon, who had earlier tried to draw his sword with trembling hands, now lay with a gaping hole in his chest. A large metal shard was embedded in his heart. His pulse was nonexistent. His face was frozen in an expression of final terror. The Namgung Family was a pillar of justice, and now that pillar had collapsed.
They were both dead.
The atmosphere around the podium froze. The young warriors who helped lift the victims fell silent. Their faces, which had been full of fighting spirit, were now filled with profound grief and burning rage. Two great Leaders of the Murim Alliance had fallen. At Shaolin Temple. During the Friendship Tournament. An unimaginable disgrace, an irreplaceable loss.
Rage began to boil among the warriors, mixed with deep sorrow. They stared towards the forest where the Demons had disappeared, then back to the shattered podium, their eyes searching for anyone to blame.
"This is unforgivable!" shouted a young warrior from a minor sect, his face stained with tears. "They must pay for this blood! Anyone involved in this conspiracy must die!"
III. The Beginning of Slander: The Green Jade Ruyi Reemerges
Amidst the gripping chaos and sorrow, suddenly a senior Shaolin monk, Monk Cheng Hui, ran frantically from the direction of the Kitchen of a Thousand Tastes. In his hand, he held something familiar, something that had been lost and was the source of Shaolin's intrigue for days. Cheng Hui's face was ashen, not just from shock, but from a deep fear of the implications of what he carried.
"Abbot! Abbot Xuan Ye!" shouted Cheng Hui, his voice cracking, his breath ragged, his voice almost choked with panic. "I... I found this in the kitchen! Under a pile of old, untouched rice sacks!"
He held the artifact high—a green jade that radiated an ancient, calming aura.
It was the original Green Jade Ruyi, the lost relic!
All eyes, which had been focused on the victims on the podium and the remnants of the explosion, now sharply shifted towards Cheng Hui, and then, with accusing glances, towards Zhao Huo who was standing at the edge of the arena, helping to lift a beam.
Zhao Huo, who had just witnessed the horror on the podium with dread, was stunned. He couldn't move. He had anticipated this would happen, but not so quickly. Ever since he found the blue jade fragment in the well, he knew this was part of a grand plan to frame him. This was the next step in the darker scenario.
However, he was unprepared for the speed and cruelty of this slander, especially against the backdrop of two recently deceased Leaders and dozens more severely wounded.
Monk Fa Xing, who had been helping carry the victims with a feigned expression of sorrow, now stepped forward. His face, usually filled with anxiety and obedience, now radiated a cold, sharp, calculated anger. His eyes stared fiercely at Zhao Huo, as if he were the embodiment of the demon corrupting Shaolin from within.
"Zhao Huo!" shouted Fa Xing loudly, his voice booming across the silent arena, cutting through the grief-filled air. "You! You are a spy for the Demonic Cult! It is clear! First, the food you served poisoned the Leaders! Then, the holy relic of Shaolin, the Green Jade Ruyi, was found hidden in your kitchen! Only you have unlimited access to the kitchen, to the secret corners that are rarely touched!"
The accusation struck Zhao Huo like a sledgehammer. Fa Xing's words wove all the events—the poison, the explosion, and now the Ruyi—into one perfect narrative: Zhao Huo was the mastermind, the internal traitor who had planned everything.
Zhao Huo, who was innocent and naive, was shaken to his core. All his life, he had only known the peace of Zen in the kitchen, surrounded by woks and spices. He had never faced an accusation so grave, so public, so cruel. His tongue suddenly became tied amidst the whirlpool of accusations and the volatile, chaotic atmosphere. He wanted to shout about the blue jade that poisoned the well water, about how Fa Xing himself gave him the recipe and forbade him to deliver the food, about the intrigue that ran far deeper.
However, the words seemed to catch in his throat. He saw the looks of the young warriors who had lost their leaders, the confused senior monks, the angry Temple guards. Everyone was now looking at him with burning suspicion, unbearable rage, and even deep hatred. He was the perfect target, the perfect scapegoat for all this misery.
IV. Voices of Defense in the Storm
Despite being shaken to his core, Zhao Huo let out a long sigh. The Zen tranquility he had practiced for years in the kitchen, amidst the hot steam and the aroma of food, gave him the strength to remain standing. He forced himself to speak, his voice still calm although slightly trembling.
"Not me, Sifu Fa Xing," said Zhao Huo, trying to keep his voice steady and clear under the spotlight. "The food... I made it myself under the order of Sifu Fa Xing. And I tasted it. There was no poison. I only used water from the Holy Well."
He tried to reach into his pocket to show the blue jade fragment, the small piece of evidence he believed would clear his name, but his hand was empty. Damn it! In the chaos, he must have dropped it! Or, worse, perhaps Fa Xing had secretly taken it to destroy the evidence. A sense of desperation gripped him.
"A smooth tongue!" shouted Fa Xing, not giving him the slightest chance to explain. He stepped closer, his gaze burning. "You still dare to lie! The Holy Well water is the purest water in Shaolin! How could you poison something pure? Unless you yourself added the poison! And didn't you yourself say you only used that water for your special umami broth, which only you could make in your hidden kitchen, a place not just anyone can enter!"
Fa Xing was skilled at verbal trickery and twisting facts with great cunning. His words were perfectly logical and convincing to those who were desperate and looking for a scapegoat. He linked every detail, every coincidence, into the net of Zhao Huo's alleged crime.
"And this Ruyi!" continued Fa Xing, taking the Green Jade Ruyi from Monk Cheng Hui's hand and holding it high, so everyone could see. "It was found in your kitchen! In a hidden place that only you knew about! Why did you hide Shaolin's relic, Zhao Huo, if you did not intend to betray us?"
Fa Xing's instigation succeeded perfectly. The young warriors, who had just witnessed the deaths of the Leaders and the bleeding of their friends, were now completely consumed by emotion. They began shouting in burning anger.
"Kill him! Avenge Leader Yue and Namgung Woon!" shouted a warrior from a minor sect, his face flushed with rage, drawing his sword and stepping forward.
"He is the demon spy!" exclaimed another, shaking his fist. "Shaolin has harbored a venomous snake inside! They must be held accountable!"
Dozens of warriors from smaller sects began moving forward, surrounding Zhao Huo, their swords and weapons drawn, murderous intent clearly radiating from their angry eyes. The situation became extremely dangerous.
However, not everyone was swayed by the instigation.
Two figures remained standing calmly, not moving forward, not drawing weapons. They were Feng Yu of Wudang and Mei Lin of Emei. Although their hearts were shaken by the tragedy, they sensed that something was fundamentally wrong. The accusation was too perfect, too quick, too easy. Zhao Huo, the simple cook known only for his cuisine, did not seem like the mastermind of such a huge crime, much less a master of intrigue capable of planning everything. Their eyes met, reading the same doubt in each other.
"Wait!" a hoarse, stern voice broke the tension, cutting through the echo of rage.
It was Tang Feng, Head of the Tang Family. Although he was still panting and his face was pale from the exhaustion of the fight against the Moon Ice Demon, he stepped forward resolutely, standing right beside Zhao Huo, forming a human shield.
"Do not be hasty in judgment!" said Tang Feng, his eyes sharply fixed on Fa Xing, as if seeing through the deception. "Zhao Huo did make the food. And the Qi-paralyzing poison, the Silent Blossom Poison of Ten Thousand Tastes, is odorless and tasteless. It is very hard to detect. Even a poison expert like myself was nearly fooled. Well water is the perfect medium for that type of poison, and that poison could have been introduced at any time by anyone who had access."
He then looked at the angry crowd. "It is too convenient to blame a naive monk who has never shown ill will. We need further proof, not just neatly constructed suspicion!"
"Head of the Tang Family is right!" another fiery voice rang out, full of spirit and conviction.
Tan Long of the Kaypang Sect stepped forward, standing on Zhao Huo's other side, completing the line of defense. His muscles tensed, his eyes blazing with loyalty. He would not allow his friend to be blamed without reason.
"Zhao Huo is my friend!" shouted Tan Long, his voice resounding. "He saved my life by delivering food when I was training hard! He is a true Shaolin monk! He could not possibly be a demon spy! You are all consumed by instigation without real evidence, blinded only by anger!"
The passionate defense from Tang Feng and Tan Long succeeded in calming the tension momentarily. Several warriors lowered their swords, thinking twice. The prestige of the Tang Family, famous for justice and cunning, and the reputation of the Kaypang Sect, known to be honest and fearless, carried great weight.
Abbot Xuan Ye stepped forward. His face showed deep dilemma, the wrinkles on his brow deepening. The Jianghu Alliance had just suffered massive losses and was now fragmented by doubt and accusations that could shatter its foundation. The future of the Alliance, the future of Shaolin, even the future of the entire martial world, was truly at stake. He could not make the wrong decision.
"Calm yourselves, everyone!" called Abbot Xuan Ye, his voice attempting to control the crowd, radiating authority despite his own fragility. "We have just suffered a terrible attack. We have lost two Leaders. Blood has been spilled. All our hearts are grieving and angry."
He glanced at Zhao Huo, his eyes transmitting regret. Then he looked at Fa Xing, a subtle doubt lingering there. Then his gaze turned to the Green Jade Ruyi still held by Fa Xing, the incriminating evidence.
"However," Xuan Ye continued, "we must not act rashly. We need clarity. The truth must be revealed. If we let emotion rule, we will only make the same mistakes as the demons we have fought."
A Leader from a minor sect, Sect Leader Gong Sun of the Kongtong Sect, whose Qi recovered faster than the others thanks to his sect's secret pills, rose from the podium with difficulty. His face was injured, but his eyes showed sharp wisdom.
"Abbot Xuan Ye is right," said Gong Sun, his voice weak but clear. "We must not judge a monk without thorough investigation. However, there is one thing we must do, a step we must take immediately."
All eyes turned to him, searching for a solution.
"The two demons have fled," Gong Sun continued. "However, there are still agents of the Demonic Cult whom we captured on the battlefield. They are their spies, their soldiers dressed in black robes. They are the only source of living information we have right now. We must interrogate them. From them, we can get information about the real mastermind and their plans, including how they smuggled gunpowder into this temple!"
It was a good idea. It diverted attention from Zhao Huo for a moment, directing the anger towards a clear enemy.
V. The Abbot's Dilemma and the Difficult Path
Fa Xing, realizing his momentum had slightly stalled due to Tang Feng and Tan Long's arguments and the interrogation idea, immediately seized the opportunity to redirect the accusation. He did not want the interrogation idea to leave Zhao Huo free for too long.
"True, Sifu Gong Sun!" shouted Fa Xing loudly, agreeing, but with a different intention. "We must interrogate those demon spies! And Zhao Huo, who is proven guilty of hiding the Green Jade Ruyi in his kitchen, is one of those spies! He must be taken to the hall of punishment to be disciplined with Shaolin's staff blows and forced to reveal all information about the Demonic Cult!"
Fa Xing stepped closer to Xuan Ye, bowing deeply, a perfect expression of loyalty and manufactured anger etched on his face. "Abbot, I request permission to take Zhao Huo to the hall of punishment. He must pay for his sins and reveal everything he knows for the safety of the Jianghu!"
Abbot Xuan Ye's dilemma grew heavier, as if a large stone had been placed on his chest. He knew Zhao Huo. He knew his genuine calmness and innocence. He knew Zhao Huo could not possibly commit such a heinous crime. But the evidence presented by Fa Xing—the Ruyi in the kitchen, Zhao Huo's role in preparing the poisoned food—was too strong in the eyes of others, especially with the Alliance in such a shaken state.
The Alliance was on the brink of collapse. The Leaders were severely injured or dead. The crowd was overcome by anger, fear, and a desire for revenge. If he openly defended Zhao Huo now, it could be interpreted as protecting a traitor and would further exacerbate the division, perhaps even triggering a civil war within the Jianghu. Shaolin, as the main pillar, must not show weakness or bias.
The Zen firmness he usually possessed could not allow him to make the right decision in such a complicated and dangerous situation. He felt tossed about by the chaotic current, trapped between the truth of his conscience and the pragmatic need to maintain the Alliance's stability. He had to sacrifice something to prevent the division from widening.
With a heavy heart, Xuan Ye let out a long, unseen sigh. He looked at Zhao Huo with a gaze full of regret, his eyes conveying an unsaid apology. Then, he turned his gaze to Fa Xing, a bitter, resigned expression on his face.
"Take... take Zhao Huo to the hall of punishment," Abbot Xuan Ye spoke, his voice quiet, full of sadness, yet undeniable. It was a decision made with a broken heart. "Interrogate him. But do not let him die. I will interrogate him myself later."
Fa Xing smiled slightly, a nearly invisible smirk of victory, hidden behind his monk's robes. "Very well, Abbot! I shall carry out your order!"
The senior monks, including Monk Cheng Hui who still looked confused and slightly hesitant, immediately stepped forward and surrounded Zhao Huo. They did not beat Zhao Huo, but roughly dragged him out of the arena towards the Shaolin hall of punishment.
Zhao Huo did not resist. He allowed himself to be dragged, his steps heavy, his eyes fixed on Nan-Gong Woon and Sect Leader Yue lying lifeless. He knew he was the perfect scapegoat, a sacrifice to calm the storm threatening the Alliance. He could see the doubt in the eyes of Feng Yu and Mei Lin, and the sincere anger of Tan Long, but they could do nothing.
"The principle of Zen teaches patience, Zhao Huo," he whispered to himself, though his heart was pained and grieving. "The truth, eventually, will find its way."
Abbot Xuan Ye's dilemma was a deeply painful decision. He was forced to follow the current of the situation, swallowing the truth he knew in his heart, for the sake of preserving the remaining unity of the Murim Alliance. However, he knew in his heart that this decision was the first step towards a deeper darkness, and that true justice was still far from grasp.