Chapter 19: The Weight of Judgement

Chapter 19: The Weight of Judgement

Just outside the great hall, the air was tense with suffocating silence until the faint sound of soft chuckles echoed from the entrance. Deacon Mo, who had been shamelessly eavesdropping on the entire conversation, finally made his presence known.

He strolled in leisurely, amusement flickering in his eyes, his short figure casting a crooked shadow against the stone floor. His disheveled hair and unkempt beard gave him the appearance of a mischievous pauper rather than a respectable deacon of the Xiao family. Yet, despite his abrupt intrusion, no one spoke against him—perhaps it was the gravity of the moment, or maybe it was because no one cared enough to stop him.

The moment Deacon Mo stepped in, Xiao Rongyu's expression faltered. Panic flickered in her amber eyes as her gaze darted anxiously between the elders. Among everyone present, only two people in the Xiao family ever mattered to her: her grandmother, Madam Xiao Ru, and Xiao Chen. Although they shared no blood relation, having grown up together, they were closer than any siblings. Best friends—once inseparable.

But a year ago, everything changed.

When Xiao Chen returned from his adventure, something about him shifted. He became distant, aloof, his once warm demeanor replaced by an indifferent coldness. He had buried himself in cultivation, barely sparing her a glance. The bond they shared withered, yet Xiao Rongyu could never sever the lingering care in her heart.

During the Martial Spirit Awakening Ceremony, she had watched him with a pounding heart. The moment his martial spirit was revealed to be of low mortal rank, her chest tightened with worry. Yet, she said nothing. How could she? Xiao Chen's cold aura, combined with her own struggle to express emotions, bound her in silence.

But now—this was different.

Now, they spoke of stripping him of his birthright, of everything he had ever known, without a second thought. She could no longer stand by.

Her trembling voice broke through the heavy air, "Grandma…" She turned to Madam Xiao Ru, her amber eyes shimmering with desperation, locking onto her grandmother's wrinkled face, begging—pleading—for an explanation.

She had remembered it clearly. Before the revelation, Xiao Yang called out to Madam Xiao Ru. The meaning was clear. Xiao Rongyu refused to believe that this betrayal came solely from Xiao Yang. No—this was orchestrated.

Madam Xiao Ru met her gaze, her eyes softening, but only briefly. She sighed heavily, her voice gentle but carrying the weight of experience.

"Listen well, child… Life is not always simple. Life is like a flowing tide; we bend according to the current if we must survive. Because of Xiao Chen's… unfortunate martial spirit, the whole city talks. Do you think the Lao Family will ignore such an opportunity? They will use this as a weapon against us. To preserve the family's standing… this is necessary."

The words struck deep. Xiao Rongyu's breath hitched as realization dawned—this wasn't Xiao Yang's selfish decision. It was a collective choice. The elders… even her grandmother.

"Hmph!" A cold snort cut through the silence. Elder Xiao Feng sneered openly, his voice laced with mockery. "Do you truly expect us to let Xiao Chen continue representing the Xiao family? As the young master? After that pathetic display during the ceremony?" He shook his head with disdain. "With that trash martial spirit… he might as well be a cripple!"

Patriarch Xiao Hao clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. Veins bulged visibly on his temple as he struggled to contain his fury.

Around them, the other young geniuses were rooted in place, their faces pale. It was too much—too sudden. The world they knew was crumbling, even Xiao Han found it hard to maintain his calm.

And yet, at the center of it all, Xiao Chen stood, his expression unmoved.

He did not shout. He did not argue. He simply frowned, his cold gaze sweeping past the elders like they were mere specks of dust. His eyes locked momentarily on Elder Xiao Feng before he snorted disdainfully, as if everything said here was not worth his attention.

Elder Xiao Mei, watching from the side, felt her heart grow uneasy. No matter how this ended… it wouldn't end well.

Suddenly, Deacon Mo let out a sharp laugh, breaking the unbearable silence. "Good! Who would have thought this day would come? Hahaha! It's perfect! That trash will finally be put in his place!" His voice was filled with undisguised glee, as though he had waited long for this moment.

"Grandmother! This… this is not fair to Brother Chen!" Xiao Rongyu's voice cracked as she took a step forward. Rage and pain danced in her eyes. "Before this—he was cherished by everyone. Praised! Revered! He brought honor to the family's name and fear to our enemies. And now… it's only been one day since that incident—one single day—you've judged him like this?" Her voice rose, trembling with fury.

The Third Elder let out a low sigh, stroking his long, graying beard. "Life… is not fair, my child," he murmured, his tone almost sorrowful. "It is indeed unfortunate. Xiao Chen… once the pride of our family… now reduced to a mere waste. But what can we do?" He shook his head. "There's nothing left for him. Nothing."

"Hahaha!" The First Elder's shrill laughter followed, his withered face creasing like an old, dry sponge. He scoffed, his voice full of venom. "Tch… He should be grateful we're showing mercy. The only reason he's been reduced to a mere ordinary disciple is because of his previous status! Trash like him should've been stripped of everything… cast out of the family entirely! That is his fate!"

---

Silence fell heavily over the grand hall, the First Elder's cruel words still hanging like a blade in the air.

Then, without warning—

"BOOM!"

A terrifying shockwave rippled through the hall as Patriarch Xiao Hao's aura erupted violently. The marble floor beneath his feet cracked as the overwhelming pressure swept across the room like a tidal wave.

"Peak Stage of the Martial Lord Realm…" someone gasped, their voice trembling.

The realization struck everyone like a hammer. None of them had known. Not even the Elders. Quiet and reserved, Patriarch Xiao Hao had undergone a breakthrough… and he had told no one.

Shock gripped the hall.

Xiao Hao's eyes burned with cold fury as he glared directly at the First Elder. His voice rumbled like distant thunder, "First Elder… I will not tolerate this from you! Insulting my son before me… is no different from slapping my face!"

The proud Xiao family's Patriarch was known for his calm and steady nature, but beneath that serene facade lay the pride of a once peerless prodigy. In his youth, his talent outshone his peers like a brilliant sun. Even now, standing among the Elders, his cultivation surpassed them all.

The First Elder paled, sweat gathering at his temple as he dared not speak. Even Elder Xiao Jian, always proud and confrontational, was only at the Early Stage of the Martial Lord Realm. Against this suffocating aura, he was like a candle facing a storm.

The young geniuses in the hall were visibly trembling, their faces drained of color. Even breathing became difficult under the sheer weight of their Patriarch's power.

"Calm down, Patriarch…" Elder Xiao Jian was the first to move. In a flash, he appeared by Xiao Hao's side, his face strained with a forced smile. Gently, he tugged at the Patriarch's sleeve, leaning in to whisper words of reason. "Please… anger clouds judgment. This is not the place."

Patriarch Xiao Hao's gaze remained cold and unmoved for a breath, but then he exhaled heavily. Slowly, he withdrew his aura.

The suffocating pressure vanished, and the gathered geniuses gasped in unison, their legs nearly giving out. The Elders sighed with relief, though tension still lingered.

Patriarch Xiao Hao turned his gaze once more to the First Elder, his voice low but filled with threat, "Mind your words, First Elder. He is my son… my blood."

The First Elder grit his teeth but lowered his head in submission, beads of sweat running down his wrinkled face.

For a moment, the hall was calm once more… but only just.

Then—

A calm voice echoed, cutting through the heavy silence like a blade.

"Why care what that old bag said, Father…?"

The crowd flinched, eyes wide as all turned toward the speaker.

Xiao Chen.

Standing tall, his eyes sharp, his expression unwavering. His voice carried neither arrogance nor pride—only a chilling calmness that silenced the room.

"These old farts… as long as I, Xiao Chen, am alive—no one decides my fate."

Silence reigned supreme.

The Elders dared not speak. The geniuses could only stare, stunned by the audacity and weight of those words. Even Deacon Mo found his grin faltering.

In that moment, Xiao Chen—despite being branded a waste—stood like a towering figure among them all.

And somehow… it felt like the tides of the Xiao Family had just begun to change.