Instructor Wuya gripped the armrest with such force that it nearly splintered under his fingers. The mere thought that Raja could have defeated his prized disciple was unfathomable, a scenario that had never even crossed his mind.

The audience, frozen in disbelief one moment, exploded into a frenzy of noise the next. It was as if they were witnessing a tale plucked straight from the pages of legend, the kind where the underdog rises against all odds. The atmosphere buzzed with the collective thrill of seeing someone triumph against adversity, a story that stirred something primal within them.

Feng Zhiming watched Wuya intently, noticing the subtle cracks forming in his stoic facade. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, but his eyes remained vigilant. Wuya was not a man to accept defeat easily. It was clear that he was preparing for a final, desperate stand.

Feng Zhiming’s instincts proved accurate. Wuya suddenly stood, his voice booming across the hall.

"Silence!" he commanded, and the disciples obediently fell quiet.

His gaze then shifted to Iyana, the headmistress, with a calculated intensity.

“I admit that my disciple has lost this contest,” Wuya began, his voice laced with controlled bitterness. “However, I do not accept that someone like Ryes should gain from this victory.”

Feng Zhiming’s curiosity was piqued. He could sense the malice brewing beneath Wuya’s calm exterior, a storm ready to be unleashed.

“Instructor Ryes is unworthy of his position at this academy,” Wuya declared, his voice venomous as his eyes locked onto Feng Zhiming.

Feng Zhiming remained silent, knowing that the headmistress would respond.

"That's a bold claim, Wuya. Are you willing to risk your own position to make this accusation? And in front of the entire academy?" Iyana's tone was sharp, her authority unmistakable.

Wuya nodded confidently, certain that his plan would succeed.

“As instructors, we are bound by a code of conduct, a standard of decency that we must uphold in our professional roles. Instructor Ryes, however, has flagrantly violated these principles,” Wuya announced, his words cutting through the air like a knife.

"Continue," Iyana prompted, her expression unreadable.

"He has been engaging in illicit relations with students, offering them preferential treatment in return," Wuya accused, his voice dripping with accusation.

The audience erupted once more, the murmurs of shock and speculation spreading like wildfire. Rumors had long swirled about Instructor Ryes, but no one had ever dared to bring them to light, much less in such a public and damning manner. The tension in the room was palpable, the air thick with the weight of Wuya's words.

Iyana turned her sharp gaze to Feng Zhiming, her eyebrow arched in inquiry.

“Well?” she asked, her voice calm but carrying an edge.

Feng Zhiming met her gaze with a dismissive shake of his head. “Utter nonsense, Headmistress. I’ve never seen such a pitiful display of a sore loser. Ask this man, who is so quick to cast blame, if he has any proof to back his wild claims. Or does he truly believe that baseless accusations alone are enough to condemn someone?”

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Iyana nodded, her attention shifting back to Wuya. “Ryes raises a valid point, Wuya. Where is the proof of your accusation?”

Wuya’s eyes narrowed as he turned to the crowd, his voice cutting through the tense silence. “Disciple Leila, step forward.”

A murmur rippled through the audience as the disciples standing near Leila quickly moved away, not wanting to be caught in the escalating conflict between their instructors. Leila hesitated for a moment but then began to walk toward the stage, her steps heavy with the weight of the situation. Wuya, certain of his impending triumph, glanced back at Feng Zhiming, expecting to see signs of panic.

But Feng Zhiming remained completely unfazed. In fact, he even stifled a yawn, as if this entire spectacle was beneath his concern.

“Headmistress,” Wuya said with a self-satisfied smirk, pointing to Leila as she reached the stage, “this girl will confirm everything I’ve said.”

Iyana’s eyes softened slightly as she looked at Leila, who now stood awkwardly in the spotlight, clearly uncomfortable under the intense scrutiny of the entire academy.

“Well, child,” Iyana said gently but firmly, “is what Instructor Wuya claims true?”

The hall fell silent, everyone holding their breath in anticipation. Leila looked around briefly, then took a deep breath before answering.

“No.”

That single word reverberated through the assembly, shattering the tense atmosphere. Wuya’s jaw dropped in disbelief, while the students exchanged bewildered glances, unsure of what to believe anymore.

In the silence that followed, the woman residing in the ring spoke to Raja, her voice echoing in his mind. “What do you think? Is he the type of man who would do such a thing?”

“Impossible,” Raja replied, his voice filled with quiet conviction. “He’s a virtuous instructor.” He remained composed, but inwardly, he relished the thought of Wuya’s imminent disgrace. The satisfaction of witnessing his downfall would be worth everything.

The headmistress turned her gaze back to Wuya, her brows furrowed and her expression darkened with displeasure.

“Wuya,” she began, her voice icy, “just because your disciple lost, you dare waste my time and attempt to tarnish the dignity of another instructor? Give me one reason not to expel you this instant.”

Wuya’s mind raced, desperately searching for a way out of the dire situation he had created. Amidst the chaos of his thoughts, he managed to stammer, “That girl’s lying! I implore the Headmistress to scan her memories. If I am wrong, I will leave the sect and never return!”

It was a bold, desperate gamble, one that showed just how far Wuya was willing to go. He had placed everything on this final bet, knowing that the headmistress had the power to see through his ruse.

Feng Zhiming, watching the scene unfold, knew well that some cultivators specialized in the mind, able to delve into the memories of others. It was a rare skill, but it existed, and it was clear Wuya was banking on this last resort.

Iyana sighed deeply, the weight of the situation pressing heavily on her. All eyes were on her, the entire arena holding its collective breath, waiting for her decision.

“As a final gesture of respect for your years of service to the academy, I will do as you ask, Wuya. But know this, if the girl’s account proves true, there will be no alternative to your expulsion,” she declared, her voice resonating with finality as she descended gracefully into the arena.

She placed her hand atop Leila’s head, and for a few tense moments, the crowd watched in silence, every soul leaning forward in anticipation every soul except Feng Zhiming. He remained reclined in his chair, calm and composed, as if the outcome were already a foregone conclusion.

Finally, Iyana lifted her hand from Leila’s head, her expression unreadable. She turned to the assembled crowd and began to speak.

“Ryes is…”

The entire arena seemed to freeze, the next word poised to determine the fate of both Feng Zhiming and Wuya.

“Not guilty.”

A collective gasp echoed through the hall, followed by a wave of whispers. Wuya’s face drained of color, the reality of his situation crashing down on him. Feng Zhiming, however, remained as composed as ever, the faintest trace of a smile playing on his lips as the headmistress delivered her verdict. The game had been played, and Wuya had lost everything