“ Their families with lesser crimes were spared execution but placed under heavy watch or jailed. But…"
He hesitated briefly. "There were no executions among the higher ranks."
Ci Xue quickly added, his voice grim,
"The executions fell upon the grassroots. The petty enforcers and minor officials who used Spirit Hall’s name to commit atrocities in villages—they were dealt with swiftly, to pacify the common folk and make an example."
She Long’s gaze flicked up, searching Qian Renxue’s expression before continuing.
"We believe… the reason no high-ranking family has been executed is to avoid shaking the foundation. If a Titled Douluo’s kin were executed, it might spark outrage. If many were executed together, their families could riot, tearing the unity of Spirit Hall apart. That would be… disastrous."
He paused, his voice lowering to a whisper as though speaking treason.
"The three great clans already eye Spirit Hall like vultures. Any drop in our strength would be their signal to swoop down, especially with the backing of the two empires. Great Worshiper knows this well. That is why… he chose to punish selectively. To strike down the weak as a warning, while sparing the pillars to maintain balance."
Ci Xue concluded, his head bowed,
"A phrase fits the strategy… scaring the monkey by beating the snake."
For a moment, silence filled the corridor.
When Ci Xue and She Long lowered their heads in guilt, the pressure that had been gnawing at their hearts suddenly eased with Qian Renxue’s calm voice.
"I did not take you with me," she said lightly, her tone neither angry nor reproachful, "because I needed both of you here."
The words struck like a gentle breeze, yet both men felt as though an invisible mountain had been lifted from their shoulders.
When they finally dared to raise their eyes, they saw Qian Renxue smiling faintly. Her expression was soft, even beautiful, but the curl of her lips carried an unfathomable sharpness.
Inside her mind, however, Qian Renxue’s thoughts were cold and sharp.
‘At least they can think about these matters. If they couldn’t even connect punishment with balance, then their role in the Twilight Hermit would never go beyond being powerful thugs… tools without brains.’
Her lips curved into the faintest of smiles as she continued aloud,
"Otherwise, why would I have asked you to capture the soul beast? You know very well that this particular soul beast is extremely important to me."
Ci Xue immediately straightened, as if reassured by her words, and replied with conviction,
"Young Master, the soul beast has been caught exactly as you wished. It is currently secured within the Angel Corps Headquarters. As per your order, we used the pretense you instructed—‘that Young Master is very interested in its healing abilities.’ None suspect otherwise."
Qian Renxue’s purple eyes flickered with a strange light. She nodded once.
"Very well."
Her words carried a veiled meaning that neither Ci Xue nor She Long dared to question. Instead, they both bowed their heads in unison.
"As you command."
With the matter closed, Qian Renxue resumed her pace, her steps light, her posture regal. Ci Xue and She Long trailed behind her like two silent pillars, their shadows stretching long in the torch-lit corridor.
At last, she reached the grand double doors to her private chambers. The ornate carvings of the Angel God shimmered faintly in the candlelight. Qian Renxue raised her delicate hand and gestured gracefully.
"Uncle Ci Xue, Uncle She Long," she said softly, "please wait here for a while."
Both men immediately went down on one knee, their voices solemn and loyal,
"Yes, Young Master."
Qian Renxue opened the door and saw Wu Meng changing the flowers in the vase with fresh ones. The soft fragrance of orchids filled the room, blending with the faint sweetness of roses.
‘She must have known I was returning and came to make the room ready.’
Her sharp eyes scanned the surroundings—every corner was spotless, the books neatly arranged on the shelf, even the curtains had been freshly washed. Her room was simple, yet under Wu Meng’s care it carried a subtle warmth.
Wu Meng also noticed that Qian Renxue had entered. She immediately put the vase down, stepped forward, and bowed deeply.
“Welcome back, Young Master.”
Qian Renxue let out a quiet sigh. “Sister Wu Meng, you don’t have to do this every time.”
But Wu Meng kept her head bowed, her posture as rigid as a soldier before their commander. The silence stretched until Qian Renxue spoke again, this time with a tone that carried both helplessness and authority.
“Wu Meng, I’m back. Look up now. I command it as your Young Master.”
There was a brief pause. Then Wu Meng finally lifted her head, her eyes clear yet stubborn, shimmering faintly as though they held an oath that could never be broken.
Inwardly, Qian Renxue’s thoughts turned sharp.
‘Why is her attitude towards me so much like Tai Tan of the Strength Clan towards Tang Hao? Utter devotion—blind, unyielding.’
Not long after she had advanced to a Telepathist, the truth behind Wu Meng’s identity had been laid bare to her. She understood the woman’s stubborn heart, one that once pledged would never turn. Knowing this, Qian Renxue had never tried to break the thin sheet of ice between them. But during her last scheme, when she required Wu Meng’s assistance, she had deliberately cracked it—used a touch of emotional manipulation to pull her closer.
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