Who murder

The wind howled through the forest as Zheng Yun made his way back to the Hua Sect. The fire still burned brightly behind him, its flames a reminder of his purpose, a spark igniting the beginning of his journey. But something else tugged at him, a familiar, suffocating feeling that gnawed at the back of his mind—danger.

He had barely reached the edge of the forest when he heard the distant sound of galloping hooves, the rumble of riders charging through the trees. It was not an unfamiliar sound, and Zheng Yun's cold eyes narrowed. He didn't need to look to know who it was.

The riders were from the Rana Clan, and it seemed they had already caught wind of the smoke rising from the fire. They were swift, relentless in their search, and not a single detail ever escaped their notice.

Zheng Yun knew his presence in the forest would not go unnoticed, especially with the scene he had left behind. But instead of panic, a cold, calculating calm washed over him. They would come for him. They always came when there were things to uncover, things to expose.

He stepped out of the shadows, making his way toward a clearing where a small group of clan members had gathered. Their eyes immediately locked onto him as they slowed their pace.

"Zheng Yun," the leader of the group called out, his voice harsh and commanding. "Come with us. The sect head requests your presence immediately."

Zheng Yun's gaze flickered momentarily. The sect head? It was unexpected, but not alarming. After all, he had anticipated that the fire would lead to attention. The Rana Clan's reach extended far beyond the Hua Sect, and the events of the night would not go unnoticed. However, he had something else in mind—a plan that would weave the threads of manipulation into his favor.

He nodded slightly, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. "Lead the way."

The leader gave him a sharp look, as if waiting for some sign of resistance, but Zheng Yun showed none. There was no fear in his eyes, no hesitation in his steps. He had long since learned how to manipulate the situation, to bend the course of events in his favor without anyone realizing it.

---

Upon arriving at the Hua Sect's main hall, Zheng Yun was led into a grand room, its walls decorated with rich tapestries and intricate carvings of ancient lore. The atmosphere was heavy, filled with the weight of unspoken expectations. At the center of the hall sat the sect head, a tall, regal figure draped in deep purple robes. His piercing gaze fixed on Zheng Yun as he entered.

"Zheng Yun," the sect head spoke, his voice calm but laced with authority. "It has come to our attention that a house in the forest has been burned. We received reports from one of the men who was with you. He claims to have seen you near the fire. Do you care to explain yourself?"

Zheng Yun's expression remained impassive, a perfect mask of indifference. He knew the game being played, and he was already five steps ahead.

"Ah," he began, his voice smooth, almost too calm, "the house you speak of... it was the home of a dangerous criminal who had been hiding in the forest for quite some time. I had no choice but to confront them. In the process, I acted in self-defense. The fire was... unintended. But the criminal was dangerous—wouldn't you agree?"

The sect head's eyes narrowed slightly, studying him carefully. The man who had gone with Zheng Yun to the forest must have already reported what he saw—the house burning, the girl's body, the old woman. But Zheng Yun knew how to weave his story carefully, manipulating the facts into something more palatable for the sect.

"You expect me to believe that?" the sect head asked, his voice tinged with skepticism.

Zheng Yun met his gaze without flinching. "You asked for an explanation, and I have given you one. My actions were necessary. The fire spread quickly after the confrontation. What else can I say? I have nothing to hide."

The tension in the room was palpable. Several of the sect members exchanged glances, murmuring quietly among themselves. But the sect head seemed to be weighing the situation. He didn't believe Zheng Yun entirely, but there was something in the boy's composure that unsettled him. The ease with which he manipulated the situation, the calm confidence in his voice—it was unsettling.

"You speak well," the sect head finally said, his eyes sharp. "But I have my doubts. The girl who died in that house... Do you know who she was?"

Zheng Yun's lips curled into the faintest of smiles, though his eyes remained cold. "I did not know her. She was a victim of the criminal, nothing more."

The sect head's brow furrowed. "I've heard reports of your... potential. You are not just any ordinary child, Zheng Yun. But power must be earned, not stolen."

Zheng Yun's smile deepened, the coldness in his eyes growing sharper. "I don't steal power. I claim it." His words dripped with an unspoken promise, one that caused the room to grow still.

The sect head regarded him for a long moment, then slowly nodded, his gaze never leaving Zheng Yun's face. "We will be keeping a close eye on you, Zheng Yun. Do not mistake our leniency for weakness. You've earned your place—for now."

Zheng Yun bowed slightly, his smile never fading. "I'll do what I must to prove myself."

---

As Zheng Yun left the sect head's presence, he couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. He had survived, just as he always did. But it wasn't just survival he was after—it was power, the kind that would make the world kneel at his feet.

With the sect's eyes on him, Zheng Yun knew his next move had to be even more precise, more calculating. He would let them watch, let them think they held the reins. But beneath his calm exterior, he had already set his plans in motion.

The fire, the manipulation, the lies—everything was part of his path. And this was only the beginning.