Chapter -14.Nothing or everything?

The box! I can't let him— She shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of the box tied tightly to her leg. If he inspected her now, everything would be exposed. The entire reason she had to leave this place would be blown apart in an instant.

She swallowed hard, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "Master, I've learned my lesson," she said hurriedly, putting on a face of humility. "I don't want to stay here and burden anyone. I know I have done wrong, and I… I just want to go. I want to make things right."

Her words tumbled out, faster than she could think, all aimed at convincing him to let her go without the inspection. He can't check me. Not now. Not with the box...

The old man eyed her, his gaze unreadable. He seemed to consider her words for a long moment before shaking his head. "If you really want to prove yourself, then stay here and accept your punishment. There's no need for further talk. You were expelled for a reason, and I will not be easily swayed."

Divya's stomach clenched. Punishment? No. That's not going to happen.

"No!" she blurted, surprising herself with how quickly she spoke. "Master, I can't stay here! I can't be a burden on the sect any longer. I—" She faltered, looking around as if searching for the right words. "I don't want people to think that the Heavenly Sect raises bad seeds. Please," she said, her voice softening, "I just want to go."

For a moment, the old man's stern expression didn't change. His eyes lingered on her as if searching for something—guilt, fear, or perhaps some sign of deception. Divya held her breath, praying that he couldn't read her like an open book.

Finally, he exhaled sharply. "You think it's that easy, do you? You think you can just walk away from your mistakes?" His voice was laced with a quiet venom, but then, to her surprise, he sighed and turned away. "Fine. Go. But know this: You leave with nothing. Understand?"

Divya blinked, almost not believing her ears. What? She couldn't believe her luck. She quickly nodded, relief flooding her veins. "Yes, master. I understand."

The old man's eyes narrowed, but he didn't say anything else. He seemed to dismiss her with a wave of his hand. Divya took a step back, preparing to leave, when she noticed him walking toward the bed. She couldn't help but hold her breath.

Don't look at the bed, don't look at the bed...

It was too late. The old man's sharp intake of breath filled the room as he paused mid-step, eyes fixed on the bed. Divya felt her stomach drop. Crap.

"What in the world is this?" he muttered, recoiling as he reached the bed, where the dry grass had clumped together into an unholy mess. Bugs crawled over the surface, scattering at his approach. He grimaced in disgust, taking a step back as if the bed might bite him.

Divya, despite herself, let out a quiet snicker. Well, I did warn him. This is what he gets for having such a crappy place to sleep in.

Her lips twisted into a mischievous smile as she watched the old man cringe. He fumbled around, trying to brush the bugs off the grass with an air of discomfort.

"W-Who—who put this here?" His voice had a slight tremor now, the usually composed guide master shaken by the state of his own bed.

"I—I was about to clean it, master," Divya said quickly, suppressing her laughter. "But, uh, I got distracted. You know… with my punishment and all."

He didn't seem to buy her explanation, though. His eyes scanned the room in annoyance before he muttered something under his breath about "getting a new bed."

Divya took the opportunity to edge toward the door, her movements smooth, calm, and as subtle as possible. Time to go before this gets even worse.

The old man was still glaring at the bed, clearly trying to decide whether to scream at someone or run away from the scene. Divya gave one last glance at the disastrous room before slipping through the door, making her way out into the night.

I'm free, she thought, a smile tugging at her lips. But even as she walked away, a small voice in her head warned her that this was just the beginning. She had made it out of the sect, but her journey had only just begun.

As Divya sauntered out of the courtyard, she could feel the eyes of the disciples on her like a million prying ants. But did she care? Oh, absolutely not. She could've taken the back exit and snuck away like a shadow in the night, but where's the fun in that? No, she wanted them to see. She wanted them to watch as she left—empty-handed.

And it was so much more satisfying than she could've imagined.

She walked slowly, deliberately, letting her torn robes swish around her legs as if they were designer wear. Not a single item in her hands. She was truly, magnificently, bare—and she loved it. She glanced down at her empty palms and let out an exaggerated sigh. "Well, I guess this is it," she muttered just loud enough for the nearest disciple to overhear. "No trinkets, no souvenirs. Just me, my broken dreams, and absolutely nothing."

The whispers began before she could even finish her little dramatic monologue. "Did she just… leave? Like that?" "Where's her stuff?"

Perfect. Let them talk. Let them wonder.

And oh, she was loving the limp. The extra drag of her foot with every step? Chef's kiss. The old man thought he'd humbled her, made her walk all slow and broken. But she had one little trick up her sleeve. A limp so exaggerated it looked like she'd just fought off a bear with nothing but a spoon. But of course, she didn't want them to know the real reason—her personal box, tied discreetly under her robe, pressing against her leg with all the comfort of a stone. Ah, sweet revenge. The limp was part of her act, her personal show to make sure everyone thought she was truly suffering.

It was too good.