Everyone froze in disbelief.
The courtyard that had monts ago been full of murmuring servants and nervous whispers now fell into complete silence.
The bodies of Hou Shen and the two cooks lay lifeless on the ground, blood soaking into the stone tiles.
Their faces were frozen in horror. No one moved. No one even dared to breathe.
Han Cui, the patriarch of the Han Family, stood up so fast that his chair fell backward with a loud crash. His voice thundered across the courtyard. "Why!? Why did you kill him, Ji!? You only needed to punish him! What madness drove you to this!?"
His voice cracked from anger, but deep in his tone was disbelief. He could not believe his own son would kill a servant in front of everyone—especially in front of the Sword Shandian Sect representative.
Wei Ji stood calmly in the middle of the courtyard, his hands clasped behind his back. His eyes were quiet, cold, and unshaken by the shouting.
He didn’t flinch when his father’s anger echoed across the estate. "You ask why?" he said softly, his tone calm yet cutting. "Because he touched sothing he shouldn’t have."
Han Cui’s veins bulged. "Touched sothing he shouldn’t have? Hou Shen was a servant of this household for thirty years! He cooked the als of your mother, of , of all of you brothers! He served this house when you were still crawling in the garden! You call that a reason to kill him!?"
Han Zukong stepped forward, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword. His tone carried sharpness, filled with fury and righteousness. "Eldest brother, do you think you can do whatever you want just because you are the eldest? Killing an old servant like this—have you forgotten the Han Family rules?!"
The crowd gasped as he unsheathed his sword and pointed it at Wei Ji. The tal shimred in the morning light. Servants and family mbers backed away, whispering in panic.
Wei Ji looked at him, amused, as if the younger man’s rage was nothing more than a child’s tantrum. "You draw your sword against , Zukong?" he asked. "Over a servant?"
"You’ve gone too far!" Han Zukong shouted, his eyes blazing. "That man was loyal! Even if he made a mistake, he didn’t deserve to die!"
Wei Ji tilted his head slightly. His gaze sharpened. "And what if I told you," he said slowly, raising his hand, "that this man was not the Hou Shen you all knew?"
The air stirred. Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Han Cui froze. "What do you an by that?"
Instead of answering, Wei Ji made a few subtle hand movents. A small sprout of green grew from the ground beside the corpse of Hou Shen. It slowly crept toward the body, curling around the man’s clothes. The vines twisted and reached into his pocket. After a mont, they pulled sothing out.
A small bronze token glead under the sunlight.
Wei Ji caught it in his hand and held it up for everyone to see. "You all recognize this, don’t you?"
The servants and guards stared at it. So nodded weakly. "That’s... that’s the family token," one said.
Wei Ji looked at them one by one. "So you all recognize this, right?"
"Yes, young master," another servant said. "Everyone in the house knows that token. It’s used to show authority of the Han Family."
Wei Ji turned his gaze back to Han Cui and Zukong. "Then why did Hou Shen not recognize it?" His voice echoed across the courtyard. "He saw my wife holding this very sa token. He called her a thief. He called her nas. He said he’d give her to the guards. You call that loyalty?"
Han Cui’s expression faltered. He opened his mouth but couldn’t speak.
Han Zukong’s hand trembled. "So what if he forgot it?" he argued, though his voice wavered. "He was old. His eyes may have failed him. That doesn’t an he deserved to die."
Wei Ji looked at him quietly for a long mont. "Forgotten it?" His tone grew sharper. "Tell , who here could ever forget the token that feeds their family? Who here could ever mistake it?"
No one answered. The servants lowered their heads. Even the guards stayed silent.
Wei Ji turned to the crowd. "See?" he said calmly. "They all know. Every servant here knows. Every guard. Every maid. But that man didn’t. Tell then... if he wasn’t Hou Shen, who was he?"
Gasps filled the air. Even Han Cui froze. The implication hit him like a heavy stone.
Wei Ji’s voice lowered, almost a whisper. "He could’ve been an impostor. Soone planted in this household to stir chaos. Soone who wanted to harm my wife. Why else would he fail to recognize the family token? Why else would he threaten her?"
Han Zukong’s face turned pale. His mouth opened slightly, but no words ca out.
The courtyard erupted in whispers.
"Could it be true?"
"Was he a spy?"
"How could he have hidden for so long?"
"The young master might be right..."
Han Cui clenched his fists, his mind racing.
Wei Ji’s cold eyes swept over the crowd. "If I didn’t act now," he said slowly, "this household would’ve beco a stage for soone else’s sche. He wasn’t just insulting my wife. He was testing how far he could go."
Han Zukong bit his lip, frustration twisting his face. "Even if that’s true, you shouldn’t have killed him in front of the Sword Shandian Sect!" he yelled. "You made us look barbaric! Do you know how they’ll see us now?"
Wei Ji gave him a slight smile. "You seem awfully worried about appearances."
Han Zukong glared. "Because you’ve ruined everything!" His voice grew louder, almost trembling with fury. "I was trying to fix this quietly! I wanted to take Hou Shen and the others with to the sect so I could investigate them away from ho! So the Han Family wouldn’t be implicated! But you, you just killed them outright!"
The crowd stirred again, this ti louder.
"Wait, so young master Zukong knew sothing was wrong?"
"He was trying to protect the Han Family?"
"Then the eldest ruined it all?"
Han Cui’s head spun from the noise. "Zukong!" he barked. "Explain yourself!"
Zukong stepped forward, his sword still in hand, but now his voice carried a mix of anger and desperation. "I was trying to keep our family safe! If the servants were spies, I wanted to take them to the sect and hand them over quietly! The elders there could investigate. That way, the Han Family na wouldn’t be dragged into the mud!" He looked at Wei Ji bitterly. "But now you’ve killed them! How do we explain that to the sect? That you killed potential witnesses?"
The courtyard filled with restless whispers again.
"Zukong’s plan sounded better."
"But the eldest saved his wife."
"Still... killing them so fast..."
"What if the sect turns against us now?"
Wei Ji looked unimpressed. "You speak as if you knew everything, brother," he said slowly. "But if you knew they were spies, then why didn’t you act sooner? Why wait until now to reveal this?"
Han Zukong’s face stiffened. "Because I needed proof! I couldn’t accuse anyone without it!"
Wei Ji smirked faintly. "Convenient answer."
Han Cui slamd his palm on the table beside him, making everyone flinch. "Enough!" he shouted. "Both of you, stop this!" His voice carried authority again, but there was exhaustion beneath it. "You two are brothers! You fight like children in front of our guests!"
He turned toward the Sword Shandian Sect representative, who was standing in silence, observing everything. The man’s face was cold and unreadable. Han Cui bowed slightly. "My sons... have gone too far in their emotions. Please forgive this scene."
The representative didn’t respond. His gaze moved from the corpses to Wei Ji, then to Zukong. The silence felt suffocating.
Finally, Han Cui looked at both of his sons again. His voice dropped lower, tired and heavy. "Enough," he said. "Both of you stop it now. We understand what happened. There will be ti to talk later. But not here. Not in front of our honored guests."
The crowd stayed silent, hearts pounding.
Wei Ji didn’t move. He simply looked at his father, his face unreadable.
Han Zukong lowered his sword but didn’t sheath it. His eyes were still burning with resentnt.
The tension between them was thick, almost tangible, as if the air itself had turned to glass.
And though the argunt had stopped for now, everyone could feel it—sothing between the brothers had already cracked.
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