Turns Out, I’m In A Villain Clan! Chapter 453 Changed Heaven Sword Sect
Previously on Turns Out, I’m In A Villain Clan!...
Transformation had overtaken the Heaven Sword Sect.
Not its title.
But its essence.
The strict order that once prevailed had decayed into blatant chaos.
Sword chambers formerly resounding with disciplined duels now rang with heated shouts and vicious chuckles.
Guards were mere formalities. Regulations applied only when convenient, or not at all.
Members of the old faction opposing the Sect Leader strutted about with brazen confidence.
Consequences no longer haunted them.
With no authority figure remaining to hold them accountable.
Within an outer yard, a modest assembly had assembled.
Not for practice.
Not for drills.
But for spectating.
In the midst, a young female cultivator knelt compelled, her blade discarded nearby, attire ripped at the sleeve.
Grime stuck to her hands while she fought to stand, only to get shoved down once more.
"Did you hear her?" a cultivator mocked. "She dared inquire about her senior brother's arrest."
Someone else burst into raucous laughter.
"Posing queries is rebellion these days, little sister. No one schooled you on that?"
The young woman gritted her teeth, quivering—not in agony, but shame.
"I... I just wished to understand—"
Slap!
Her face whipped sideways.
A crimson welt spread across her face.
"Remember your station," a lofty cultivator declared icily. "Your mentor failed to back Sect Leader Han. You're already under suspicion."
Yet another advanced, bending low to meet her gaze.
"Count your blessings," he taunted. "Yesterday, you'd be cast out by now."
The onlookers chuckled.
A fellow prodded her dropped sword with his boot.
"Grab it."
The young woman extended her arm—
He crushed her fingers underfoot.
She inhaled sharply, stifling a yelp.
"See her there," a voice derided. "Acting like a true Heaven Sword Sect member still."
Intervention came from none.
No elder materialized.
Passersby turned their gazes elsewhere.
Such scenes were commonplace these days.
Suddenly—
A chill gust blew across the yard.
The mirth stuttered.
Steady, leisurely steps drew near.
The cultivators pivoted on reflex.
A silhouette in light garments positioned herself at the yard's gateway, blade sheathed at her side, eyes
icy like winter frost.
Bai Xueqing!
Accompanying her was Chu Ziyan.
With one swift look, she absorbed the sight—the fallen girl, the damaged clothing, the cocky faces not fully dimmed.
Her stare locked onto the one pinning the girl's hand.
"Move!"
Two sharp words.
Tone even.
The cultivator tensed.
"...Senior Sister Bai."
He wavered—yet gradually raised his boot.
The girl withdrew her hand, nursing it close, eyes brimming.
Bai Xueqing advanced.
Chu Ziyan trailed a pace after, promptly dropping to kneel by the wounded
cultivator.
"Are you able to rise?"
Chu Ziyan inquired softly, her tone kind.
The girl gave a unsteady nod.
Aided by help, she rose upright. Her blade was fetched from the dirt and returned firmly to her grip.
The shakes persisted—but the shame in her gaze gradually shifted to astonishment.
Who could imagine that she, a dignified Heaven Sword Sect cultivator, would endure such disgrace within her very own sect?
Bai Xueqing spared her no further glance.
Her eyes remained on the cluster.
Ice-cold and resolute.
There she remained—wordless—for an extended moment.
Her aura made the yard feel constricted.
Then—
"Explain!"
The command dropped like a sword strike. Her tone made it clear Bai Xueqing seethed with rage.
Had it been some other cultivator, any lesser one—they might have scoffed, brushed it aside, or redirected their malice.
Yet this was Bai Xueqing.
Heiress of the Bai Clan.
The prodigy renowned as the Desolate Heaven Empire's supreme genius of her
era.
Hubris knew boundaries.
And supposing they risked it—did they possess the power to challenge Bai
Xueqing?
A cultivator gulped nervously and came ahead, plastering on a grin.
"Senior Sister Bai, this... this is—"
The speaker retreated a step.
Then retreated further.
"No slight meant, Senior Sister Bai," he blurted. "Just a mix-up!"
"Let's go," a voice hissed in haste.
Without delay, they bolted away.
They figured Bai Xueqing wouldn't violate sect codes as they had—and truly, she held back from pursuit.
One after another, the bunch withdrew—heads down, gaits rigid, escaping the
yard like pursued by an invisible force.
Not a soul glanced behind.
Once vanished, quietness settled anew.
Bai Xueqing breathed out steadily.
Her hand clenched at her hip.
"This place..." she murmured low.
Chu Ziyan surveyed the deserted yard, face shadowed.
"...bears no resemblance to the Heaven Sword Sect we once knew."
The hurt cultivator dipped in profound bow, tears streaming free at last.
"My gratitude, Senior Sisters..."
Bai Xueqing pivoted aside, jaw set tight.
Chu Ziyan observed Bai Xueqing's taut jaw briefly, then released a faint
sigh laced with wry humor.
"How did everything turn so dire?"
Bai Xueqing's voice carried inevitable weariness.
"Well," Chu Ziyan remarked casually, flicking specks from her robes, "doesn't your clan share blame for driving these folks to such frenzy?"
Her words held a playful edge, yet rang true.
Bai Xueqing halted.
Silence gripped her briefly.
She recognized Chu Ziyan's point.
Truthfully... It struck too close. While not the Bai Clan's doing, their actions had hastened the decline.
She puzzled over it too—her father and brother.
Distributing that cultivation method so freely, with scant restrictions.
She sensed a motive behind it.
Bai Zihan never moved without purpose. Yet grasping that offered no solace.
Particularly amid such firsthand horrors.
Bai Xueqing released a measured exhale.
As they pressed on across the sect's grounds, tension thickened rather than eased.
Murmurs trailed in their wake.
Gazes flicked aside with undue speed.
Far too many observers lurked.
Suddenly—
A vast throng blocked their path, larger than the prior one.
Bai Xueqing halted abruptly.
Her lid flickered. "...Again?" she grumbled.
She raised a palm to her brow, massaging gently.
"Good grief," she groaned. "Who's the victim now?"
Chu Ziyan's grin vanished.
"This disturbance feels... grander."
Bai Xueqing hastened onward, acceptance settling in.
More harassment, she figured.
Yet nearing the spot, Bai Xueqing's stride eased.
Her forehead creased.
No savage guffaws echoed.
No taunting barbs flew.
Rather—
Astoundment.
Perplexity.
And dread.
The assembly forward wasn't closing in.
They retreated instead.
Clearing room.
In the turmoil's heart, a handful of cultivators stood rigid, countenances ashen, looks frozen like spirits stolen. The masses parted naturally for Bai Xueqing as she neared, even if the thick press still obscured a full view.
"What's causing all this uproar?" Bai Xueqing had to inquire.
The nearby cultivator wouldn't ignore her. "Senior Sister Bai," he rushed, "Young Master Bai has arrived!"
Bai Xueqing's and Chu Ziyan's eyes bulged in shock. "What is this fool up to here?"