A week passed in the blink of an eye. Devor had been relentless in his search for the culprit, meticulously examining every plant removed from the garden. With Yulin, Liara, and the others assisting him, they slowly pieced together fragments of evidence, tracing the source of the contamination step by step.

  The signs were undeniable—whoever was behind this had used someone from Devor’s own team. But without solid proof, identifying the perpetrator was nearly impossible.

  Everyone had been questioned—including Forly—but no incriminating evidence surfaced. Without a clear lead, pushing for a confession was a gamble that could cost them everything.

  Under the ever-watchful eye of the Punishment Hall, Devor pressed on, compiling a final list of the plants linked to the disaster.

  That morning, he and Yulin stood in the heart of the garden, reviewing the results.

  “There are seventeen plants in total,” Yulin said, her voice low as she stood beside him. “If we track down who planted them, we’ll find our culprit, right?”

  Devor frowned, silent.

  To Yulin, the list seemed random—a scattered mix of species with no clear pattern. But to Devor, it was anything but.

  “We should gather everyone who worked on the garden and question them one by one,” Yulin suggested, her tone sharpening with resolve.

  “No.” Devor shut the idea down immediately, his expression darkening. “Bringing them all in won’t get us anywhere.”

  Yulin frowned, frustration tightening her expression. “Why not? If even one person admits to planting them, we’ll have a lead.”

  Devor hesitated, an unease settling deep in his chest. “That’s the problem,” he said quietly. “I planted them. Every single one. These weren’t just any plants—they were essential to maintaining the garden’s balance. No one else touched them. I made sure of it.”

  Yulin’s breath caught. If that was true, then the evidence pointed straight at him.

  “Then who handled the seeds before you planted them?” she pressed, her jaw tightening. “That’s where we’ll find our culprit.”

  Devor shut his eyes for a moment, swallowing his frustration. “The seeds never left my hands until the moment they were planted,” he admitted. “Which means the contamination happened after they sprouted.”

  Yulin’s eyes darkened with cold fury. “Then someone tampered with them after you planted them. There has to be a record of who tended the garden afterward.”

  Devor exhaled slowly. “Everyone,” he said, his voice heavy. “Everyone takes turns inspecting different sections as part of their daily routine.”

  Yulin clenched her fists. Too clean. Too precise. Whoever was behind this had executed their plan flawlessly—so flawlessly that, without proof, all suspicion led back to Devor.

  Devor’s jaw clenched. “We don’t have a choice.” His voice was steady, though a flicker of frustration slipped through. “A week has gone by, and we still don’t have anything solid. If this keeps up, they’ll have no choice but to make me the prime suspect.”

  Yulin’s gaze locked on him, her frustration building. The way everything had been set up—so deliberate, so precise—left no room for doubt.

  And the worst part?

  It wasn’t just sabotage.

  Whoever was behind this wasn’t some run-of-the-mill enemy.

  No, this was the work of someone meticulous, someone who never acted without thinking several steps ahead.

  Someone who had planned to frame Devor from the very start.

  ??????

  Elsewhere, in a modest hut, the Spiritual Hall Master, Leifu, lounged leisurely, a cup of warm tea in hand. He took slow, deliberate sips, savoring the warmth as the cool mountain air surrounded him.

  Suddenly, Sorin appeared, his figure cutting through the air before landing not far from Leifu’s hut.

  Sorin’s face was twisted with clear displeasure, his frustration written across every inch of his expression.

  “The rules of this sect… they’re madness!” Sorin slammed his fist on the table, his breath coming in quick, uneven gasps. “We know who did it, and yet we’re told to stay quiet? How is that even possible? How can we just stand by when we know the truth?” His eyes blazed with frustration as he stepped forward. “This sect is supposed to be about justice, but we can’t act when it’s needed most?”

  Leifu paused, giving Sorin a long, thoughtful look. “This sect doesn’t just punish the guilty, Sorin. It’s about teaching us to grow. If we intervene now, all we’ll do is rob the disciples of the lessons they need to learn. Devor must face this on his own. More than that, if we step in too often, we risk disrupting the balance of the sect. The moment we openly favor one disciple over another, the rest will question our neutrality. This sect thrives on order, and once that order is broken, chaos will follow.”

  Leifu sighed quietly, noticing the still-confused expression on Sorin’s face. “We can’t always step in. This place teaches resilience—even through the injustices we sometimes face. If we rush in now, all we’re doing is creating weakness. Devor needs to learn how to survive this on his own. That’s how he’ll become stronger in the end.”

  Leifu gave him a brief glance before calmly pouring tea into an empty cup and offering it to Sorin.

  “The Azure Sky Sect is about more than just strength,” Leifu said calmly, his tone steady. “This sect teaches us how to survive in a world that’s rarely fair. The rules are meant to build resilience. We can’t step in every time an injustice happens; doing so would only make the disciples weaker. They need to face their own challenges if they’re going to prove they can survive.”

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  “Surviving in this world isn’t about removing every obstacle or righting every wrong,” Leifu said, his voice steady and firm. “It’s about teaching them to stand tall, to endure, and to grow from the struggle. The injustice Devor faces—this is his test. It’s not just about what’s been done to him. It’s about how he responds to it. Will he break, or will he rise? The Sect isn’t here to protect him. It’s here to shape him into someone strong enough to survive anything.

  “If things spiral out of control—if the sect itself is threatened—then, and only then, will we step in. Until that happens, this has to play out on its own.”

  Sorin’s fingers tightened around his cup, his knuckles turning white. The tea inside rippled with the force of his grip, mirroring the storm brewing in his chest. He drew in a slow breath, trying to steady himself—but the frustration clawing at him refused to settle.

  “That’s it? That’s your justification?” His voice was sharp, edged with disbelief. “Devor didn’t even start this! And you’re just going to stand by and let it happen?”

  Leifu nodded, his gaze softening as he understood Sorin’s anger. “I agree, this is unfair. But the rules are clear. The leader cannot intervene, even when we know the cause—unless the damage is too great to ignore.”

  The Sect operates on rigid, unforgiving rules, designed to maintain order and ensure survival in a world where power and influence determine every decision. These rules aren’t just about rank—they’re about the harsh reality of cultivation, where even the slightest misstep can lead to disastrous consequences.

  Sorin, frustrated and disillusioned, is learning this the hard way. He wants to expose the truth and see justice served, but in the Azure Sky Sect, justice isn’t always what it seems. The Sect's leaders, like Leifu, know that the cultivation world doesn’t reward blind justice; it tests a disciple’s ability to adapt, survive, and outsmart their enemies. The rules are meant to build resilience, and sometimes that means letting situations like Devor’s play out, even when the truth is clear. The Sect won’t step in until the damage is so severe it threatens their very stability.

  In Devor’s case, the punishment may feel unfair, but it’s also a trial of his endurance—a test that will either break him or shape him into something stronger. This brutal approach to discipline is at the heart of the Sect’s philosophy: growth comes from suffering, and survival is the true measure of a disciple’s worth. But for Sorin, who feels responsible for Devor’s fate, these rules seem nothing short of absurd. It’s hard for him to grasp that, in the Sect’s eyes, exposing the culprit too soon might be just as dangerous as doing nothing at all.

  Sorin’s eyes hardened, his voice cold. "The boy knows those rules well. He’s pushed them to the limit, causing just enough damage for the Sect to tolerate."

  Leifu took a slow sip of his tea, unruffled. "His strategy has merit. If Devor—or any disciple—uncovers the culprit through their own means, the Sect will act swiftly against the main offender.

  “That’s the key, Sorin. The sect isn’t just keeping an eye on Devor. The real culprit is under watch too. They’ll pay for the damage they’ve caused. If they slip up—if they get too bold—justice will catch up with them. But it won’t happen the way you’re thinking.”

  "That’s what makes these rules ridiculous!" Sorin’s voice was thick with frustration. "Devor did everything right, and now, because of his connections with other disciples, disaster comes knocking."

  Leifu’s smile was faint but knowing. "The boy has certainly caught the Sect’s attention. His actions are impressive, but that’s where it ends. If he pulls something like this again, the Sect won’t hesitate to act, no matter who he is."

  Sorin let out a quiet huff, frustration still lingering. The Sect’s rules felt like an obstacle, especially when Devor hadn’t provoked any real conflict.

  “Do you think if I step down as Elder temporarily, and expose the culprit with solid evidence, the Sect Master might reinstate me?” Sorin asked, mulling over his idea.

  "Hmph... looks like I’ll need a new Elder for my Sect."

  A voice echoed around them, cutting through the air.

  Leifu immediately stood, bowing deeply. Sorin froze, a shiver running down his spine. He scrambled to his feet and bowed as well, the weight of the moment sinking in.

  “Greetings, Sect Master.”

  Their voices rang out in unison, respect thick in the air.

  Moments later, a figure materialized before Leifu’s hut. The man’s presence was immediate, commanding attention with every step.

  He was strikingly handsome, his long, light blue hair cascading down his back like silk, catching the soft morning light and shimmering with an almost ethereal glow. His light blue Taoist robe was embroidered with a white dragon, its scales intricately detailed and almost alive as it sprawled across his back.

  His hair, gleaming and soft, radiated an elegance that left anyone in his presence in awe, as though his very charm could captivate the world.

  “Sorin,” the Sect Master’s voice was soft yet carried an undeniable authority. “You may not be entirely wrong. The Sect’s rules do need refinement… but the world won’t wait for justice to come knocking.”

  A faint smile tugged at the Sect Master’s lips. “Devor serves as a reminder that the Sect must evolve, or it risks losing its way in guiding the disciples.”

  Sorin couldn’t help but feel a spark of excitement, but he stayed silent, careful not to interrupt.

  “Conflicts between disciples are allowed by the Sect to teach them how the world of cultivation truly works,” Leifu said, his voice respectful and humble. “Devor’s situation is unique—and unfair in many ways. But the Sect cannot openly support him.”

  “I agree,” the Sect Master replied, his smile remaining subtle but knowing. “That’s why I’m here—to ask you to decide on Devor’s punishment.”

  Leifu raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Isn’t that Hall Master Niubi’s responsibility?”

  “Punishment is necessary,” the Sect Master said smoothly. “But who says it can’t also be an opportunity for growth?” He remained poised, his demeanor graceful. “You’ve observed the boy for years. You know better than anyone what he needs to grow, even while facing punishment.”

  Leifu considered this carefully before bowing deeply. “I understand, Sect Master.”

  "Justice isn’t just about right or wrong," the Sect Master said, his voice deep and steady as he looked at Sorin and Leifu. "It’s about who can survive injustice. Devor has to face it on his own. This is a lesson he needs to learn—that the world isn’t always fair. The Sect isn’t just about exposing the guilty; it’s about who can withstand the challenges thrown at them."

  Sorin clenched his jaw. But then, a realization dawned on him. The sect didn’t just punish—it tested. If Devor could survive this ordeal, he wouldn’t just be clearing his name; he would be proving himself worthy of something greater. The sect had a way of rewarding those who endured.

  The Sect Master’s gaze turned steady and calm. “Now is not the time to intervene directly. But be sure he doesn’t break under the pressure too soon. I want to see how long he can endure.”

  Then, the Sect Master’s attention shifted toward Sorin. “As for you, Sorin, your allowance for the next two months will be cut in half.”

  The Sect Master’s words struck Sorin deeply, but he managed to keep his composure, forcing a smile. “Understood, Sect Master.”

  The Sect Master gave a brief nod. In an instant, with a rush of wind, his figure blurred and vanished before them.

  Once the Sect Master was gone, Leifu let out a small, knowing smile. “You were bold to ask such a question. You know I care for Devor, but I still stand by the Sect’s decisions.”

  Sorin’s dissatisfaction was clear. “You knew the Sect Master was watching us?” he asked, frustration creeping into his voice. “Why didn’t you warn me?”

  Leifu merely smiled, the corners of his mouth lifting. He didn’t need to answer—Sorin’s impulsiveness was his own doing.

  As Leifu watched Sorin’s reaction, his mind began to turn over a solution for Devor. He knew the punishment had to be harsh enough to teach him, but still allow for growth, without stalling his progress.