Chapter 259: The Tattered Pen Plan

As Fang Cun’s voice echoed into the distance, Great Qingjiang City was filled with an oppressive atmosphere.

Around him, Meng Zhixue, He Zhenzhang, Meng Qing’er, and the others turned deathly pale, their hands and feet trembling. None had expected Second Young Master Fang to choose this moment—siding openly with Shoushan Sect—to directly accuse Old Master Fan.

“What’s the point of such an accusation?”

“Second Young Master Fang’s plan… is it this blunt and absurd?”

For a moment, they were stunned. Their hearts surged with immense terror.

With Fang Cun’s words spoken, they could already feel the suffocating tension all around, and a heavy sense of crisis.

Having followed Fang Cun since Lingwu Sect, they’d firmly resolved to stand by him, even preparing themselves mentally for a life-or-death struggle. But they’d never imagined Fang Cun would confront Old Master Fan like this. How were they supposed to help?

As chaos rippled through the crowd, Yu Qingli quietly slipped away. At the pavilion where Fang Cun had lectured earlier, he spotted Xiao Qingliu. The young man sat casually by a vendor stall belonging to a young bean curd seller, lazily sipping sweet tofu pudding. Yu Qingli approached him quietly. “A bowl of tofu pudding,” he murmured. “Sweet.”

Xiao Qingliu glanced up, startled. He quickly offered his seat. “Young Master Yu? What brings you here?”

Yu Qingli’s expression remained blank. He glanced towards the sky above them. “What’s Young Master’s plan?”

Xiao Qingliu blinked. “What plan?”

Yu Qingli met his gaze evenly. “I’m not an enemy. Don’t guard against me like this.”

Xiao Qingliu hesitated, shifting uneasily.

Yu Qingli studied him intently. “If the Young Master ordered you not to tell me, then remain silent…”

So… unless the Young Master forbade it, I have to tell him? Xiao Qingliu thought, unnerved by Yu Qingli’s unwavering stare. With a strained smile, he answered, “It’s not that we can’t tell. Folks in Shoushan Sect know. But… Young Master didn’t want me discussing it with you because… family matters. Your matters.”

“My matters,” Yu Qingli stated flatly, “are settled. Now I wish to aid Second Young Master Fang.”

You look more like you’re here for vengeance, not gratitude. Swallowing a grumble, Xiao Qingliu forced a bright smile. “The plan was simple at first. Persuade Young Master Bai to testify. Then Shoushan Sect, with our name, rallied some other major sects. Expose the Seven Clans’ dealings with that Demon Lord from the south. Everyone gets a share. Fair enough, right? But… Old Master Fan shielded the Seven Clans…”

Yu Qingli arched an eyebrow. “So?”

Xiao Qingliu chuckled, eyes crinkling with pride. “So we had to resort to the tattered pen plan…” He tilted his head. “Know what that is?”

Yu Qingli merely frowned at him.

Xiao Qingliu flinched. “Alright, alright! No need for that look! I’ll tell you… To carry out the tattered pen plan, the Young Master sent me back to Willow Lake. Hired help. The kind… who are paid to take lives.”

“Take lives?” Yu Qingli’s expression hardened. He glanced towards the figures beside Old Master Fan. “How many?”

“Not many at all,” Xiao Qingliu grinned. “Just… one.”

……

“Hah! Fine! Very fine!”

Enraged by Fang Cun’s merciless tirade, Old Master Fan trembled with fury. The old man’s grey beard quivered as he pointed towards Fang Cun. His voice dripped with exasperation. “Remembering you are my junior! Remembering your elder brother’s bond with me! Have I not shown you opportunity after opportunity? Leeway after leeway? Never would I have imagined… running into an insolent whelp! Spouting lies, defying your elders!”

“Elder?” Fang Cun had heard this time and again. This time he cut him off. His gaze became icy steel. He stared straight at Old Master Fan. “At this moment… you still dare to call yourself my elder?”

Old Master Fan choked back fury. “When I associated with your brother…”

“Correct,” Fang Cun’s voice was disturbingly calm. “Old Master Fan was once brotherly toward Elder Brother. Called him close friend, confidante. He indeed saved my brother’s life. When my brother exposed how thousands faced exploitation, suffered at the hands of men who stole their vitality itself… hunted by assassins of the Path of Heaven… who shielded him? Old Master Fan intervened. Changed that fate.” His eyes hardened. “For that, my brother… myself… my Fang Family… owe you a debt.”

Old Master Fan stiffened. Thoughts flashed through his mind. But here, before countless eyes, he would not open old wounds. He simply looked coldly at Fang Cun. “So you do know!”

Murmurs spread instantly through the crowd gathered below. Few across all of Great Xia had not heard of Immortal Master Fang Chi. He was a Qi Refiner born here in Qingjiang. A legend! He’d rescued victims, slain demons. Heir to one of Qingjiang’s native sons! His name became wide acclaim. His deeds inspired glory wherever spoken. Even now… even after whispers surfaced, the people respected his memory. Revered it. They might hide some suspicions… but openly? Never. Hearing Fang Cun invoke his brother and confirm Old Master Fan played a hero… piqued intense curiosity. But it confused them too. If the Old Scholar owed the Fang Family such a debt… why was Second Young Master Fang denouncing him?

Finding Old Master Fan shifting position accepting the “savior” role pulled a dry smile from Fang Cun.

“First… guide my brother… Second, save his life?” He shook his head slowly, looking at the Old Scholar who once everyone assumed was a pillar of honor. “You’ve got a thick skin…”

Old Master Fan’s expression soured violently. “Impudent whelp! How dare—!”

Already, Fang Cun cut him off again.

His eyes snapped back, fierce. “You proclaim constantly guiding my brother. Tell me! What did you guide? What lesson did you gift him?” Fang Cun didn’t wait. “All know he began close to you… but drifted apart as he grew older. You routinely chastise his ‘ingratitude’. Dare you explain why he distanced himself?!”

Questions hit like arrows. Old Master Fan blanched, mouth opening… faltering.

Fang Cun kept pressing like a closing bear trap. “Say it! Say what truly happened! Remember… my brother has allies still alive! Friends who knew!”

Old Master Fan stiffened. His posture suggested indifference tinged with insult—as if stooping to argue with an untried youth tarnished his dignity.

Fang Cun ignored it, posing the heart of the blow.

“And that ‘rescue’!” He leaned forward. “You pulled him from Path of Heaven’s blades?!” A grim twist curved his lips. “How?! How did mighty Old Master Fan achieve this?”

The directness startled Old Master Fan. He recoiled, mask slipping into tightening alarm.

Fang Cun continued ruthlessly.

“Was it peerless strength? Such fear oppressing Path of Heaven killers… that they quit?”

“Or virtue? Integrity built mountain high… making murderers back away humbled?”

“Or… perhaps…” His eyes locked onto the elder scholar’s paling flesh. “… a pre-existing connection… to the Path of Heaven?”

Every step seared the old man. Every query drew more tension. Every suggestion expanded Fang Cun’s knowing sneer, further darkened Old Master Fan’s storm face.

None were safe to answer! Claiming Path of Heaven feared him? Invite their murderous attention? Declaring his virtue disarmed them? Boastcraft! Pure arrogance! Or admitting… association? That essentially implicated him as one who invited assassins! Conspired with criminal organizations! Poison! Dangerous poison spreading uncontrollably in whispers if this seed got planted!

Here stood a man famed for boundless calm, impeccable grace. His demeanor stuttered. Struggled. Cracks etching visibly into stone.

Watching, Fang Cun seemed entirely unsurprised. The cutting tension shifted. When he next spoke, his tone smoothed again—slippery and calm.

“If none fit…” he mused softly, “… how truly did you rescue him?” He let a pause settle, echoing across hundreds of spectators leaning unconsciously closer. Then he ended: “One truth remains… after removing alternatives.”

He watched every painfully drawn expression filter over Lord Fan.

His soft word rang sharp as blades.

“To make attackers halt…” his eyes narrowed, “… surely…”

His voice dropped silent and chilling into the gaping quiet.

“… only the person who hired them… holds that power.”

Shhh-hack!!!

Every gaze snapped instantly to Old Master Fan. Disbelief so profound rippled… visible shock reflected everywhere. The very possibility choked breath.

The Old Mentor… hired thugs to hunt Immortal Master Fang Chi?

“LIES!!! BASELESS SLANDER!!!” Old Master Fan erupted. Purple-blue fury mottled his face. The accusation against him glinted blood far-reaching and deep. Fang Chi’d grown legendary! His persecution by Path of Heaven… became woven into heroic tales. To even remotely imply Old Master Fan paid the assassin’s fees? Burned like wildfire could! How huge would the consequences rage? Volcanic! How deep bury him? No, he must throttle this instantly!

Panting, words burst trembling. “Lowly whelp! SPARING NO ONE YOUR TONGUE?! How dare you speak such monstrous evil?!”

Fang Cun smiled coolly. “So at the least… tell us you knew those assassins?”

Terrified by even hinting contact imposed enormous trouble themselves, Lord Fan vehemently denied it… though the strength felt less.”I served righteousness! How could I consort with killers?! Demon Cultivators?!”

Fang Cun bore down instantly:”If you knew no one within the organization… HOW DID YOU STOP THEM?”

Old Master Fan’s mouth closed with a horrified snap.

Silence landed like a brutal chokehold. Awkward. Crippling. Suspicion boiled and thickened… out of its own momentum.

Impossible to answer. Impossible to deny. Certain evidence was missing. Yet never denying something truly felt… suspicious? The longer Lord Fan breathed… each second stretched… without speaking back… felt like seeping poison. Watchers exchanged confused glances. Uneasiness became solid. Uncomfortable. Like spreading ice.

Helplessly standing trapped… everyone saw… the silence emanating from Lord Fan… twisted shamefully… and horrible…