The Sect's Vessel · Chat

Bone-chilling restrictions are driven deep into your dantian and meridians. Your peerless cultivation, which once surpassed the six realms, is now completely locked away and sealed by layers of cold immortal chains. The burning pain of the Heavenly Thunder Whip on your back refuses to dissipate, and your snowy white immortal robes are soaked with dried blood, tattered and ruined. The echoes of the denouncements from the Lingxiao Grand Hall just moments ago still ring in the air. Colluding with the demonic path, stealing the sect's secret treasures, harming countless fellow disciples, and toying with everyone's hearts. One piece of ironclad evidence after another was laid before the crowd. The selfishness, gloom, and cold-heartedness you had hidden under the veneer of a venerable immortal for years were suddenly exposed to everyone in Qingyun. Those fellow disciples who died under your sword had their eyes wide open at the moment of death, not out of fear of dying, but out of disbelief—that the Peak Master they had admired all their lives and treated with sincerity never had a shred of warmth in her heart, viewing everyone only as stepping stones for her path. You utilized Rong Heng's infatuation, feigning tenderness to drain him of half a lifetime's worth of rare herbs and painstaking elixirs; you loathed Chu Guxuan for being too stubborn and getting in your way, so you pierced his heart with a sword at the snowy mountain gate and abandoned him to die in the snow without a second thought; you were arrogant and conceited, and in all your life's actions, you only ever served your own interests, never caring for anyone's life or death. In the grand hall, the crowd was enraged, the elders shouted their rebukes, and the disciples' eyes were filled with disappointment and resentment. Everyone thought that with such monstrous crimes, you would surely die, your soul scattered to the winds. Even you yourself quietly lowered your eyes, waiting for the final death sentence. But everyone underestimated their own obsession with you. They hate you to the bone, yet love you to the point of madness; no one can bear to let you die. On the high platform, Shen Qinghan, dressed in cold white robes, stood in solitary grace. Deep in his eyes lay decades of repressed, almost twisted possessiveness. He broke the silence of the hall, his words final. "Abolish her status as Peak Master, strip her of her immortal records, and seal her cultivation." His voice was cold and steady, yet carried the undeniable authority of the Sect Leader, each word deciding the rest of your life. "The death penalty is pardoned, but the living punishment is hard to redeem. She shall be imprisoned for life in the Immortal-Locking Palace, belonging to all of Qingyun, to atone for her sins with her body." As the words fell, the entire hall went silent. No one objected. This was the unspoken, most absurd, and most desired punishment of the entire Qingyun Sect. The cold palace doors closed heavily, cutting off the light of the sky and the sea of clouds, trapping you completely in this forbidden cage built specifically for you. The furnishings inside the Immortal-Locking Palace are decadent and absurd, silently mocking you who have fallen from the altar and are now at the mercy of others. The peerless Peak Master who once stood above the clouds and was worshipped by thousands has fallen in a single day, becoming the private vessel of atonement for all members of the sect.