Chapter 43: The True Culprit Appears

That was a face so ordinary it couldn’t have been more unremarkable—one of those instantly forgettable types. Yet Qin Yue’s keen senses told him something was amiss.

The man’s attire was plain, indistinguishable from any townsfolk, and his features were so nondescript they bore no memorable mark. But his eyes—those eyes were far too bright! They did not belong to someone of the lowest rungs of society, as his clothing suggested. Nor did they hold the anger or fear found in others’ gazes; it was as though the deaths of so many meant nothing to him.

The man was sharp. The moment his eyes met Qin Yue’s, he looked away and shrank back into the crowd. With so many people present, Qin Yue made no move, not even using his spiritual power to track the man.

He shifted his gaze inconspicuously, exchanging idle words with the county magistrate as coffins were carried out, one after another—a truly tragic sight.

Among the crowd, some women and elderly folk could not hold back their tears.

Suddenly, someone cried out in grief and anger, “That demoness deserves to die! The Zhang family was such good people—they built bridges and repaired roads, always charitable. Now they’ve all been killed by that demoness, even the children!”

The outburst ignited the crowd’s fury.

“Damn that demoness! Beast!”

“She should be cut to pieces and fried in oil—a monster!”

“Why torment us common folk?”

“If you’re so capable, go after those—”

Someone, too agitated, was quickly silenced by a neighbor.

Qin Yue’s face remained impassive, but in that instant, his spiritual power surged, and he could feel an unusual ripple spreading through the crowd.

He saw that ordinary face again—the source of the disturbance.

In a flash, Qin Yue vanished from his spot, startling the county magistrate pale with fright.

A moment later, he appeared beside the man, seized him by the collar, and dragged him out.

The man cried out in panic, “What are you doing? Just because you’re an official, you think you can bully commoners?”

The crowd scattered in alarm, distancing themselves.

The man tried to fight back, but Qin Yue didn’t waste words and slapped him hard, silencing him instantly. Yet the sensation under Qin Yue’s hand felt wrong.

A thought struck him. He reached out and tore off a thin human-skin mask, revealing a young face beneath—delicate features, even somewhat handsome.

The onlookers burst into commotion.

The unmasked youth stared at Qin Yue in terror. Wasn’t the heir of Green Bamboo Garden supposed to be timid and weak, not to be feared? Yet with his own cultivation at the seventh level of Qi Absorption, he couldn’t even dodge before “Mister Qin,” utterly powerless!

Was this what they called weak?

The county magistrate hurried over, his respect for this young official from the Theft Suppression Bureau deepening. He prided himself on his experience, yet had sensed nothing strange, while this young man had instantly singled out the culprit and torn off his disguise.

“Sir, your eyes are keen and your skills remarkable!”

The young man, now firmly in Qin Yue’s grip, snapped angrily, “Just because you’re an officer, you think you can arrest anyone you please? So what if I use a human-skin mask? Is that a crime? Did I offend you?”

To be assigned such a task, he was no fool—quick-witted, not easily cowed. Confident that Qin Yue had no evidence of him inciting the crowd, the young man feigned ignorance, righteously shouting to the people, “Everyone, you see this? This is the Theft Suppression Bureau’s way. They can’t find the real culprit, so they want to pin it on me—”

Qin Yue remained calm, reaching into the youth’s clothes and producing a memory stone.

The young man’s expression changed instantly. “Put that down! What right do you have to touch my things?”

Qin Yue sneered. He was now quite adept with memory stones. Probing it with his spiritual power, he activated the device.

Even in broad daylight, the projection was clear. The stone was high-quality—the images sharp, mostly of people’s feet, clearly taken in secret.

“You have only one task: find a way to pin the murders on Feng Qianning! The official report says she was at Yandang Mountain during the crime? No matter. She’s the Holy Maiden of Heaven’s Web, commands many subordinates. This time she brought numerous demonic cultivators, slaughtered innocents, poisoned the land to advance her cultivation!”

“Now, listen closely. Here’s what to say, and how to use your spiritual techniques to sway the crowd. Remember, never reveal your true identity—remain hidden at all times, but record everything for rewards later!”

A middle-aged man’s voice in the recording instructed them in the right words, the use of spiritual arts, and how to manipulate public feeling—even teaching them what to do if caught, or if the memory stone’s contents were exposed.

“If that happens, just claim you’re from a demonic sect—let’s say the Azure Flame Sect, they’re mysterious enough…”

As the images played out, the crowd erupted in outrage, their eyes ablaze with the fury of being deceived.

The demoness they’d cursed to death was actually being framed—she was innocent?

In truth, whether she was a saint or a demoness, what did it matter to common people? They’d never heard of the Azure Flame Sect either, and now they almost pitied her—a scapegoat, while the sect became a scapegoat for the scapegoat.

Yet their anger at being played ran even deeper. Were ordinary folk supposed to be so easily fooled?

“Damn them, why lie to us?”

“If she’s not the demon, why throw mud at her?”

“You people are despicable!”

“You’re as hateful as the murderer!”

“Maybe you’re the killer’s accomplices!”

Pinned to the ground under Qin Yue’s foot, the young man turned ashen, regretting bitterly ever recording that segment. Still, he clung to hope—he had left behind anything that might reveal his true identity. If he held out, someone would surely come to rescue him.

What followed was mostly footage of the young man spreading rumors, manipulating, and influencing people from North City to Cangyun County, all the way to Sanhe Town. He worked diligently, and his occasional scoffs in the recordings showed his satisfaction with his methods.

The evidence was now irrefutable—a complete chain proving their conspiracy against Feng Qianning.

“Who are you? Who sent you?” Qin Yue, under the furious gazes of the crowd, calmly stowed the memory stone and coldly asked the young man at his feet.

“I spread rumors, yes, but is Feng Qianning a good person? Are demonic sects good for anyone? I did all this to warn people to beware of them—is that a crime? Demonic sects are evil, the demoness is wicked, and as a cultivator, I—”

Crack!

Qin Yue stomped on the young man’s hand, shattering his bones.

The young man howled in agony.

“Enough nonsense. As I see it, you and the murderer are working together!” Qin Yue said coldly.

“That’s slander! I’ll accuse you! Everything I said is true—I just hate demonic sects!”

Sweat streamed down the young man’s face as he wailed in pain, yet he continued to argue.

Crack!

Qin Yue crushed his wrist with another stomp.

The man screamed, eyes rolling back as he fainted from the pain.

The county magistrate wiped his brow and whispered, “Sir, perhaps we should bring him back for a more thorough interrogation?” His intention was kind—he didn’t want the Theft Suppression Bureau’s methods to leave too cruel an impression on the people.

But he was overthinking it. The crowd, though fearful, looked deeply satisfied. After extreme terror came extreme anger. Even if this man wasn’t the killer, he was no good man.

At that moment, a sword light suddenly sliced through the air, heading straight for the unconscious youth on the ground.

It was abrupt and vicious, but at the critical moment, Qin Yue kicked the young man hard, sending him flying—and waking him with another scream.

Swish!

The sword energy slashed into the stone-paved street, carving a deep scar not three feet from where the youth landed.

The young man stared, dumbstruck, at the sword mark so close.

Qin Yue ordered, “Watch him closely!” then soared into the sky, chasing after the attacker’s direction.

…

Beyond Sanhe Town, in a mountain hollow more than ten miles away.

Qin Yue regarded the figure before him coldly, sensing the almost uncontrollable aura of evil—this was the one from last night, and surely the true culprit behind the massacre of over one hundred and sixty people!

“Heh, so easy to lure you here with a mere pawn. Honestly, I’d rather not kill you—successors of Green Bamboo Garden are valuable. Pity you meddle too much!” The man’s voice was old, and though it was sweltering, he wore a cloak and a black mask that covered his face, exposing only his eyes and mouth.

Qin Yue eyed him and asked, “Doesn’t it bother you, not having your nostrils exposed? Aren’t you short of breath?”

The man: “…”

What a strange question, leaving him momentarily at a loss. What high-level cultivator breathes like ordinary folk?

After a brief silence, he glared at Qin Yue. “You’re about to die, yet you care about such things? Naive!”

With those words, a fierce sword intent erupted from him. He swung his longsword viciously at Qin Yue.

Falling Leaf Sword Manual!

Damn you, Zhaoyang Sect!

So it was you dogs all along!

Qin Yue instantly recognized the sword technique, recalling his speculation with Hu Jiuyan the night before.

—When anger reaches its peak, one grows eerily calm.

He activated his Nether Escape Art and responded with the same Falling Leaf Sword Manual. His body moved like a drifting leaf, his sword clashing aside his opponent’s blade.

Clang!

A clear metallic ring echoed in the air.

“Stop! Enough!” the man shouted, retreating several dozen feet before staring at Qin Yue in shock and suspicion.

“You are a disciple of Zhaoyang?”