A Matter of Trust and Deception

A profound silence descended upon the room.

Bai Yuan lowered her gaze, remaining silent.

Proving the existence of that individual was, indeed, a significant challenge.

Among those present, her cultivation was the highest. If even she could only vaguely sense their presence, who else could possibly verify this person’s existence?

What if it was merely an excuse she had fabricated?

Bai Yuan, of course, knew the person’s true identity. In her previous life, they had crossed paths numerous times. Though their martial arts could only be considered average among those of the Xiantian realm, they had ultimately fallen beneath her sword. Yet, before their death, they had left her with a brutal move—one etched forever into her memory.

Thus, that faint, elusive aura was enough for her to recognize their identity.

But in her current state, she could not, and should not, possess such knowledge.

Under these circumstances, trust became paramount. However, in this era, trust itself was an exceedingly precious commodity.

Bai Yuan was acutely aware of her present status.

She could be a trophy, flaunted by the victor, or a plaything placed in a harem to showcase a hegemon’s benevolence. With enough luck, she might even become a tool for bearing children in the future.

But ‘trust’?

She harbored no illusion that Yang Xuan would ever extend such a sentiment to her.

Whether in her past or present life, from beginning to end, it had likely never existed.

So…

“Of course, I actually believe your words.”

At that very moment, Yang Xuan leaned back, his gaze meeting Bai Yuan’s suddenly lifted eyes. A hint of inscrutable amusement played upon his features.

“For the Ruthless Rakshasa to release them so lightly, even after the youth brazenly declared their intent to seek vengeance in the future, and still choose to let them go… Unless you truly encountered an unfathomable master, I find it difficult to imagine any other reason.”

Uh…

His words…

She couldn’t tell if it was praise or mockery, but from a somewhat absurd angle, he had ultimately arrived at the correct conclusion. Especially when considering his thought process three years prior, it truly couldn’t be deemed wrong.

For a moment, Bai Yuan was at a loss for how to respond.

“However, there remains one more issue—”

Before Bai Yuan could even react, Yang Xuan’s tone shifted once more. “You must also convince Qian Ying.”

Qian Ying…

Upon hearing that name, Bai Yuan’s breath hitched instantly.

A gaunt figure, clad in rough hempen clothes, suddenly appeared in her mind.

Beneath a cascade of disheveled long hair, a pair of eyes, burning with fire, stared intently at her, filled with bone-deep hatred.

“Bai Yuan, may you die a terrible death—”

“Thud!”

Just then, the door to Yang Xuan’s study, the most secretive stronghold of Tianhe Gate, was suddenly kicked open. A crimson figure stormed in.

“Bai Yuan! How dare you harm Qian Tong?”

Amidst a furious, delicate cry, a slap, accompanied by a vicious gust of wind, flew directly towards Bai Yuan’s face.

The force wasn’t immense, but the insult was profound.

It was precisely like the slap Bai Yuan had delivered to Qian Tong’s face.

Bai Yuan, however, made no move. She neither defended nor dodged, simply standing still, feeling the gust of ill wind approaching.

She even closed her eyes.

“Enough, Qian Ying!”

A sharp glint suddenly flashed in Yang Xuan’s deep eyes. He let out a low cry, simultaneously raising his hand and lightly waving it. A gentle gust of wind swept past, separating the crimson figure from Bai Yuan.

The crimson figure retreated a step, then abruptly stood firm, revealing her full form.

She was a young woman, barely past twenty, with sword-like brows, radiating heroism and formidable authority. This was none other than the Second Madam of the Yang family, the “Crimson Flame Immortaless” Qian Ying, who had just returned victorious from leading Tianhe Gate’s elite expedition.

At this moment, her gaze towards Yang Xuan was filled with astonishment.

“Brother Xuan, you—”

“There are other circumstances concerning Qian Tong’s matter. I will explain them to you shortly.”

Yang Xuan stood up, speaking gently to soothe her, while simultaneously flicking his sleeve towards Bai Yuan.

“You may withdraw for now.”

Bai Yuan silently bowed and exited the study.

Only Yang Xuan and Qian Ying remained in the study.

Qian Ying watched Bai Yuan leave, then sharply turned her head, staring at Yang Xuan, her pretty face still etched with a trace of indignation. “Circumstances? No matter what the circumstances, even if Qian Tong was in the wrong, we could have disciplined her privately behind closed doors. By what right did Bai Yuan slap Qian Tong? And in the middle of the street, with so many people watching!”

Yang Xuan remained silent, simply meeting her gaze until Qian Ying’s voice gradually faded. Only then did he lower his eyes, sigh softly, and pick up the note he had been perusing from his desk.

“Qian Ying, take a look at this first—”

“This is…”

Qian Ying snatched the paper, her eyes scanning it ten lines at a time.

However, the more she read, the more astonishment grew on her face.

“That youth is… the disciple of the Drunken Daoist? And the Drunken Daoist was also present?”

By the end, her brows furrowed even deeper. After a moment of contemplation, she suddenly looked up. “Brother Xuan, the Drunken Daoist has always been elusive, appearing and disappearing like a phantom. How could he have been discovered by scouts? Can this information be confirmed?”

“This information is naturally true. Your husband just went out and ‘reasoned’ with that scoundrel, the Drunken Daoist.”

Watching Qian Ying’s expression shift from stunned to utterly incredulous, a slow smile curved Yang Xuan’s lips. “If he wants to play the pig to eat the tiger and act the hero on your husband’s territory, even the Drunken Daoist himself should at least offer an explanation, shouldn’t he?”

Yang Xuan’s demeanor seemed playful, yet Qian Ying found no humor in it.

She bit her lip, her beautiful eyes anxiously fixed on her husband. “With the Drunken Daoist… Brother Xuan, are you alright—”

She knew well what Yang Xuan’s so-called “reasoning” entailed. But the Drunken Daoist had been famous for a long time, a renowned Daoist grandmaster over a decade ago. Yang Xuan, however, had only recently stepped into the Xiantian realm; the difference in reputation and accumulated power between them was vast.

Yet, for her troublesome younger sister, Yang Xuan had actually…

“It was merely three exchanges. What could possibly happen?”

Yang Xuan dismissed it nonchalantly. “Furthermore, they were in the wrong first. What does your husband have to fear?”

They were in the wrong?

Qian Ying’s mouth slightly opened.

Though her temper was fiery, she was far from foolish. She knew her younger sister’s usual disposition. After hearing her sister’s tearful complaints and the maid Hong Xiao’s embellishments, she had specifically sought out people outside to inquire about the situation before coming to confront Bai Yuan. Moreover, her anger stemmed more from being unable to tolerate Bai Yuan publicly slapping her sister than from any strong intent to pursue the matter with the youth.

Yet, her husband was claiming they were in the wrong?

“Indeed. In a few days, once the truth comes to light, that scoundrel, the Drunken Daoist, will bring that youth to apologize to Qian Tong. You can rest assured, Qian Ying.”

“How could this be…”

Yang Xuan watched her utterly disbelieving expression, the smile at his lips deepening. “Do you know that the father and daughter who initially caused the incident nearly died just now? It’s fortunate that Pei Xi’s people arrived in time to save their lives.”

“My husband means—”

Qian Ying looked at Yang Xuan, a thought suddenly springing into her mind.

“Yes, precisely as you’re thinking,”

Yang Xuan nodded. “Someone was meddling in the background, using a simple yet effective method, intending to pit your husband against the Drunken Daoist.

“However, Bai Yuan happened to quell it.”