Chapter -7.Unwritten rule

Divya knew the old man wouldn't kill her. Oh, no. That wasn't his style, and honestly, it worked perfectly in her favor. From her knowledge of these so-called "immortal" sect leaders—though they weren't truly immortal, just full of themselves—one thing was clear: reputation was their lifeblood. Their spotless name, their untouchable honor—it was their most prized possession, far more valuable than their actual lives.

She could practically see the gears turning in his head. Killing her would be a permanent stain on his spotless image. Who would respect a sect leader who couldn't handle a few sharp words from a disciple without resorting to murder? The whispers would spread like wildfire: "The mighty leader, reduced to silencing a mere girl with his fists!" No, his pride wouldn't allow it.

And Divya? She wasn't worried. The worst they could do was cripple her—and even that was a long shot. In this twisted hierarchy, a move like that would still raise too many eyebrows. But between the choices of being Killed in pieces to help heroin and being crippled, the decision was easy. After all, a crippled body was still better than being six feet under.

She straightened herself, smirking through the blood smeared on her lips, her voice laced with a mix of defiance and calculated audacity. If they thought her sharp tongue was going to stop anytime soon, they were sorely mistaken. She had an exit plan, and if provoking their wrath was her ticket out, then so be it.

The old man's fury blazed as he raised his hand again, the force of his anger rippling through the air. But before he could strike, one of the guards behind him leaned in close and whispered something into his ear, his words so soft they barely reached anyone else.

The master froze mid-motion. His face darkened, and his breathing became heavier. Whatever had been whispered clearly hit a nerve. Slowly, he lowered his hand, though his body trembled with restrained rage. He took a long, deliberate breath, as if reminding himself not to lose control completely. His sharp, hateful gaze then fell on Divya, who was lying on the ground, her breaths shallow but defiant.

"Listen," the old man began, his voice steady yet venomous. "As your elder, I am willing to overlook your blatant disrespect this once. But—" his tone sharpened, "—you will relinquish your position, apply discipline as punishment, and offer an apology to Xiao Yu for your insolence."

Divya blinked, her eyes widening slightly before narrowing into slits. Then, a low, rasping chuckle bubbled from her throat. The chuckle grew into laughter—bold, sharp, and mocking.

She pushed herself up slightly, her voice cutting through the tense air. "Apologize? Relinquish my position?" Her laughter echoed, the sound dripping with disdain. "You must be joking. No, wait—you're serious, aren't you?" She shook her head, her lip curling into a smirk as she looked at him as though he'd just declared the sky green.

"I should apologize for saving myself? For not rolling over and dying so someone else could feel righteous?" Her gaze swept the room, pausing briefly on Xiao Yu, who stiffened under the weight of Divya's scorn. Then her eyes locked back on the master. "And you call yourself an elder."

Her laughter faded into silence, but the smirk on her face stayed, daring him to react.

Divya's body screamed in pain, but that wasn't about to stop her. Slowly, and with a noticeable tremor, she steadied herself, glaring at the old man and the disciples in the room who all seemed to think she'd just committed a cardinal sin.

A wicked smirk curled on her lips as she took in the scene, then focused her attention on the old man. "Hey, old man," she drawled, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "if you want me to hand this position over to your precious little disciple, just say so. No need to sugarcoat it with all this self-righteous mumbo-jumbo."

She looked around the room, raising an eyebrow as if daring anyone to disagree. "I mean, why bother with this test at all if the result was already decided? Tell me, if it's not me, are you just going to hand it to her? Is that the deal? Just so she can feel special? Does she have some secret stash of diamonds on her that I'm not aware of? Do we need to die to give her that satisfaction?"

Divya crossed her arms, her gaze never leaving the old man. "You seriously think we should all bend over backwards for her? Please. I'm not the one who's expendable here. So, why don't you stop pretending this whole thing isn't rigged?"

Hearing Divya's words, a heavy silence descended upon the hall, and for a moment, it felt like the entire room collectively held its breath. The truth hung in the air, sharp and undeniable. Even the disciples—those who had previously stood rigidly, unbothered—shifted uncomfortably. They knew it was true. If not xiao pang, then what? Would they, too, be forced to hand over their hard-earned position to Xiao Yu simply because she was favored? After all, weren't they all struggling, all fighting tooth and nail for a chance? Why should she have everything handed to her just because of some unwritten rule?

Xiao Yu, watching the change in the room, could feel the weight of their thoughts pressing against her. She couldn't let this happen. She couldn't let their growing doubts fester. Not now, not when everything she had worked for was at risk. Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward, her expression morphing into one of feigned hurt.

"Pang Pang," she called, her voice trembling with a touch of faux innocence. "How could you do this to me? Just because you don't want to give me this position, fine. You don't have to. But why bring everyone into this? How can your heart be so black-hearted?"

Her words were laced with the perfect blend of hurt and accusation, designed to play on the emotions of those around her. Her eyes, wide and glistening with faux tears, flicked to the disciples, as if silently pleading for them to take her side.