Paragon Of Sin Chapter 3 - 3: Du Ling

Wei Wuyin reclined at a table, a pot of brewed tea before him. He was the very image of tranquility.

The sect had been notified of the two assassins' deaths. However, several days passed with only a superficial investigation being conducted. Predictably, it led nowhere. The attackers were dismissed as rogue agents acting on their own initiative, possessing no connections to any significant figure within the sect.

Wei Wuyin did not waste any energy or breath demanding a deeper inquiry. He was well aware of who had orchestrated the attempt and the reasons behind it. It was this specific individual who held enough sway to manipulate a sect investigation into the attempted murder of a core disciple—an event that, under normal circumstances, should have triggered massive upheaval.

After all, if a core disciple could be targeted within the sect's own borders, who could possibly feel secure? Such a crime demanded immediate resolution; usually, culprits would be identified and publicly executed with extreme haste. Instead, the matter was brushed aside, and he was merely granted a small amount of contribution points as a compensation from the sect.

A prize for staying alive.

This was a blatant display of mockery and the abuse of authority. Someone wanted him to understand that the sect viewed his death as acceptable—that he was trivial and disposable.

Ultimately, he chose not to pursue the matter. Even the negligence shown by Du Ling did not provoke his anger. Thinking of Du Ling, however, triggered a vivid recollection of the past.

-----

Ten years and three months ago.

The Wei Clan’s Red Dove City, located in the Zhan Prefecture. A massive crowd had assembled in the central square, where a platform dominated the area. A towering guillotine stood nearly thirty meters high. Fresh blood stained the stock, and a macabre aura lingered in the air, chilling those nearby.

The onlookers seemed gripped by the spectacle, engaging in idle chatter. The audience was diverse, consisting of everyone from village elders to small children, all gathered to witness the public execution of criminals and outcasts sentenced by the City Authority—the Wei Clan.

"Did you hear the news? They caught the Bucklion Gang!" a young, excited observer exclaimed.

"The Bucklion Gang? Is that the reason for all this?" a curious young maiden inquired.

The young man’s eyes brightened at the maiden’s attention, and he chuckled. "Indeed! The Wei Clan finally tracked those thugs down! Haha, I’m certain they’re regretting their choices right about now!"

"If that's the case, they are getting exactly what they deserve!" an irritable old man cut in.

The rumors spread rapidly, moving from mere speculation to gossip, and finally into accepted fact. As the anticipation reached its peak, a group of prisoners with heavy iron shackles around their ankles was led forward by a solitary figure. Clad in thick armor and a black demon mask, this man was the executioner.

Upon their arrival, a hush fell over the world as every eye fixed on the captives. Aside from the occasional quiet whisper, the only sound was the rhythmic clanking of chains in the silence.

"It appears the rumors were true; the Bucklion Gang is finished," the elderly man murmured softly. His gaze was filled with a mix of complex feelings as he watched the condemned men and women. Many of those in chains were notorious figures, well-known for their ties to the gang.

"To think an esteemed Qi Condensation cultivator could be caught. Look, that’s their leader, Tu Si!" someone in the crowd shouted, pointing at the man leading the line. His tall, muscular frame still projected an image of great power, but that image was shattered by the sight of his hands stitched together with barbed wire and his bare, blood-crusted feet.

His skin was torn and mangled in several places. Once, he had been a Qi Condensation expert—one who had formed a Heart of Qi and unified mind, matter, essence, and spirit to manifest Metaphysical Qi. He was a master who could have ruled over tens of thousands, yet now he appeared so wretched that even common beggars might feel pity for him.

Tu Si’s eyes were hollow and devoid of life. He carried an aura of utter defeat and resignation that was enough to make children weep. As he dragged himself forward under the collective gaze of the city, his head remained bowed.

Within that crowd stood a fourteen-year-old boy. His silver eyes, black hair, and handsome features were partially obscured by a black robe and a conical hat.

Wei Wuyin observed the scene in silence, his eyes bright with ambition. "So, Big Brother actually pulled it off." He smiled, genuinely pleased by his family's success. Public executions were a common occurrence in Red Dove City, as the Wei Clan ruled with an iron grip. They showed no mercy to those who opposed them and possessed the raw power to enforce their will.

The clan’s most powerful member, one of their patriarchs, belonged to the Saber Wolf Sect—a vassal of the Scarlet Solaris Sect—and was a cultivator at the Third Stage of Qi Condensation, the Elemental Birth Phase.

At that level, a simple breeze could be transformed into a typhoon, or a tiny spark into a raging firestorm. Although such creations were not permanent and would vanish if destroyed, this stage allowed for the growth and interaction of Qi through elemental origins.

Cultivators of this caliber could rule over vast territories, governing entire cities and their surrounding lands within the cultivation world.

As Wei Wuyin watched with interest, a loud, frantic voice broke through the somber atmosphere of death.

"I’m innocent! I didn’t do it!" A gaunt, sickly thin man wailed as he was dragged along with the rest of the gang. He sobbed uncontrollably, repeating his plea as snot ran down his face.

"I’ve done nothing wrong! Nothing!" he shrieked. Both the crowd and his fellow prisoners ignored his cries. In truth, the onlookers took pleasure in his begging, finding satisfaction in seeing criminals who once acted without restraint finally face their end. To the common citizens who had been terrorized by the gang for years, every member and associate deserved a death sentence.

The leader and the others were brought to the platform, where the executioner and two assistants met Tu Si. They removed his shackles and escorted him onto the stage. With no will to fight left in him, he was placed quietly onto the wooden stock.

The executioner asked in a deep, gravelly voice, "Do you have any final words?"

Tu Si’s eyes remained dull, but he lifted his head to look at the crowd, seeing their smiling faces and their thirst for his blood. He lowered his gaze and muttered, "I should have slaughtered every last one of you."

"What did he say?!" a man in the crowd yelled furiously.

"Such arrogance! Kill the fool and rid us of his kind! Just looking at him makes me feel disgusted!" another shouted in a rage. The crowd began to hurl a barrage of insults at him.

Wei Wuyin looked around, reflecting on how people who felt safe and superior due to their circumstances could be so bold. If Tu Si still had his cultivation and his freedom, these women would be silent and subservient, and these men would cast aside their pride to obey his every command. After all, he could have decided their fates in an instant.

Now that he was powerless and facing execution, they attacked him ruthlessly without a second thought.

"So be it," the executioner said without hesitation. After reciting the prisoner's name, listing his crimes, and declaring the sentence of death, a lever was thrown. The heavy, angled blade plummeted like an instrument of divine wrath.

Thud.

Tu Si’s head was severed.

A powerful expert had been ended just like that.

"Woohoo!" A thunderous cheer erupted. Even the elderly and the children grew frantic with joy at the sight of a monster—a murderer and rapist—slain in a single blow. It seemed to liberate their spirits and reinforce their belief in the government’s strength. This was the purpose of public executions: to restore the people's faith in authority while striking terror into the hearts of criminals.

Wei Wuyin smiled. He felt a sense of pride knowing his Big Brother was responsible for the capture. In his eyes, his brother was an unstoppable force who could overcome any challenge.

It wasn't long before heads began to roll at a steady pace as the gang members were systematically executed. Each death brought more relief and excitement to the spectators. Since the prisoners offered only silence or curses as their final words, the crowd felt emboldened to insult them further.

Eventually, a man was forced onto the stock. His face was stained with dry tears, showing extreme exhaustion and a terrifying level of fear. As he stared at the cheering crowd calling for his blood, his heart froze, and his life flashed before his eyes.

He had joined the Bucklion Gang only a month prior, lured in by a woman. He had served as a mere slave and servant for the higher-ranking members until he used his cleverness to gain a bit of freedom and official membership. He had been planning to flee at the first opportunity, but the very next day, the gang was raided by powerful experts who captured everyone.

Unlike the others who had been in chains for a long time, he had only been granted "freedom" the day before and branded with the gang's mark. Because of this, the captors assumed he was a full member. When he tried to explain his situation, no one would listen. To make matters worse, the other gang members lied about his involvement.

If they were going to die, why not take him with them?

"Do you have any final words?" Those words felt like the cold edge of a scythe against his throat. Shivers ran down his spine, and he involuntarily wet himself in terror. He was absolutely petrified.

"I..." He wanted to repeat his pleas of innocence, hoping someone—anyone—might believe him. But a sudden, bizarre thought struck him, and he uttered words he never imagined saying in his final moments.

"I'm hungry."

"..."

"..."

The expected wave of insults was choked off by the sheer absurdity of the statement. The man claimed to be hungry, catching everyone off guard. At the moment of death, how could someone mention something so trivial?

However, amidst the silence, a young man in the crowd couldn't contain his amusement.

"Hahaha! You're hungry? Hahahahaha!" He doubled over, unable to stop laughing. The laughter was contagious, and a few others began to chuckle awkwardly. Soon, the entire crowd was roaring at the absurdity of the situation.

"Hungry?! You can eat the dirt in hell!"

"Did he really say that? Well, he’s about to get a mouthful of steel, so he’ll be full soon enough! Haha!"

"No, no! Maybe he’ll grow a new head just to get a second helping! Haha!"

The crowd mocked him relentlessly. His final words were indeed peculiar and comedic.

"So be it," the executioner grunted, reaching for the lever to end the thin man's life. But then...

"Wait!" A black-clad figure leaped through the air and landed on the stage, his face hidden by a conical hat. The guards immediately raised their weapons, preparing for a fight.

The onlookers were stunned.

"Haha! You’re quite amusing, nothing like the criminals I usually see." Wei Wuyin ignored the hostile guards and walked toward the skinny man with a grin.

"Uh... thanks?" the man stammered awkwardly.

Wei Wuyin flashed a badge at the executioner that revealed his status, then turned his back on the crowd. The executioner was visibly shocked and immediately ordered his men to stand down, much to the crowd's confusion.

With a flick of his wrist, a bright red apple appeared in Wei Wuyin's hand. "You’re hungry, right?" He held it out to the man’s face.

Confused by the turn of events, the skinny man simply nodded.

"Good. What is your name?"

"...D-Du Ling..." the man answered.

"Well then, Du Ling, let's go find you something better to eat."

-----

A knock at the door snapped Wei Wuyin out of his reverie. He gestured toward the door, and a gust of wind blew it open.

A stout man with a goatee entered the room. For a fleeting second, Wei Wuyin saw the image of a gaunt man with tear-stained face and soiled pants. That memory overlapped with the well-dressed, plump man standing before him now.

"Master, the Sect’s Outer Disciple Competition begins in one hour," Du Ling announced gravely.

Wei Wuyin smiled at him. "Are you hungry?"

Du Ling froze, his heart racing with a flood of emotions. He nodded almost by instinct.

"Then let’s have a meal before we head out." With those words, Wei Wuyin stood up and walked away. Du Ling followed him, tears welling in his eyes. Looking at the young man's back, his heart was filled with warmth and a deep sense of loyalty.

He made a silent, solemn vow to himself that he would be far more cautious in the future. He simply had to be.