“Idiot?”

Chen Jinbei turned to Lin Yi, puzzled by the unfamiliar term. He didn’t understand its meaning but found it strangely satisfying to hear.

How peculiar.

“What?” He Weijun’s eyes narrowed. Though he didn’t grasp the term’s meaning either, Lin Yi’s expression made it clear—it was an insult.

The air around He Weijun grew oppressive, a sign of the righteous energy within him surging dangerously close to spilling out. His demeanor exuded dominance.

Chen Jinbei stepped in front of Lin Yi, shielding him. “Leave this to me. Don’t be afraid.”

“Teacher Chen, I’ll handle this myself.” Lin Yi moved out from behind him, standing tall as he faced, He Weijun, the esteemed headmaster of Junji Academy.

This wasn’t an act of recklessness.

He needed to confront He Weijun personally. Relying on Chen Jinbei’s protection would only appear as though he was guilty of the accusations.

“Don’t be foolish,” Chen Jinbei cautioned.

“This isn’t foolishness,” Lin Yi replied, his voice steady. “He accuses me of stealing forbidden techniques—should I let that stand? He calls me the disgrace of Pingzhou Academy—am I to accept that? He brands me a tainted scholar—how could I endure that?”

Lin Yi’s words carried a weight born of past pain. Once, in his previous life, he’d been wrongfully accused of theft while helping catch a real thief. That false accusation had cost him his dignity, earning him ridicule and exclusion.

He had suffered enough of such humiliation. This time, he vowed to clear his name and ensure those who slandered him faced justice. No delay. No retreat. He believed in one truth: Justice delayed is justice denied.

“Very well.” Chen Jinbei studied Lin Yi for a moment before nodding. “I understand. Do what you must. But know this—if they wish to harm you, they’ll have to step over my corpse first.”

“Thank you, Teacher.” Lin Yi bowed deeply, then strode forward to meet He Weijun.

From the sidelines, Zhu Liren watched Lin Yi, his lips curling into a sneer. This fool truly thinks he can stand against the headmaster of Junji Academy? What arrogance!

He clenched his fists, hatred burning in his eyes. Lin Yi’s talent and the righteous energy protecting him only fueled his resentment. To Zhu Liren, Lin Yi’s very existence was an insult.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Meanwhile, He Weijun observed Lin Yi with growing intrigue. Such resolve… Could someone like this really be a thief of forbidden techniques?

Yet his loyalty to Junji Academy’s prodigy, Zhu Liren, anchored his doubts. If Zhu Liren claimed Lin Yi was guilty, it was difficult to dismiss.

“So, you dare confront me?” He Weijun said, folding his arms. His tone was laced with derision. “A mere insect challenging a mountain?”

“Not a confrontation,” Lin Yi replied, his voice calm but firm. “A plea for clarity. Don’t let petty schemers cloud your judgment.”

As he spoke, Lin Yi summoned the last remnants of his righteous energy. Golden light gleamed in his eyes, and the surrounding atmosphere grew heavy with anticipation. He began to recite:

"Though hammered and crushed deep in the mountains,

Through blazing fires, I remain undaunted."

A thunderclap echoed through the heavens.

Pure and boundless righteous energy swirled above, forming a golden vortex that descended into Lin Yi. The depleted reserves within him surged back to life, radiating outward in a dazzling glow.

The poem resonated deeply within him, aligning perfectly with his spirit. It was a reflection of his journey—enduring oppression, hardship, and injustice, yet refusing to yield.

Lin Yi continued:

"Shattered to pieces, I fear not;

For what remains is purity everlasting!"

With the final words, Lin Yi stopped in place, his eyes locking onto He Weijun. “Come, then!” he declared.

The heavens answered.

A pillar of golden righteous energy erupted into the sky, illuminating the entire region. It shattered into a vast arc of brilliance, a golden rainbow stretching across the land.

A gentle breeze swept through, carrying with it the essence of righteousness. It was a soothing balm, a reminder of hope and virtue.

Simultaneously, a melodious chime resonated throughout the region—a Tianyin, the celestial music signifying the birth of a profound literary achievement.

He Weijun froze, the mockery on his face replaced by sheer disbelief. His hands trembled, and his lips quivered as he stammered, “T-this… A seven-character quatrain that resonates across a prefecture? It’s… it’s you?”

He staggered back, shaken to his core.

For fifty years, such an extraordinary poetic feat—Caiqi Mingzhou—had not been seen within Nanshang Prefecture. He had long searched for the mysterious scholar responsible for the previous phenomenon.

To think… this young man, whom he had dismissed as a disgrace, was that very scholar.

Nearby, Chen Jinbei fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face. He wept openly, unbothered by appearances.

For over forty years, he had dedicated his life to the path of scholarship, yearning for a sign that the literary way was still alive and thriving. Today, he heard the heavens’ reply.

At that moment, two figures emerged from the void.

“Master!”

It was none other than Zheng Zhiqiu, headmaster of Pingzhou Academy, and He Wancheng, headmaster of Qingping Academy.

The two venerable men, both over a century old, approached swiftly.

They stopped before Su Huaizhi, Lin Yi’s unassuming companion. Bowing deeply, they proclaimed in unison:

“Zheng Zhiqiu, headmaster of Pingzhou Academy!”

“He Wancheng, headmaster of Qingping Academy!”

“We greet the esteemed elder!”

Their humility was unshaken by Su Huaizhi’s simple attire or weathered appearance. In the world of scholarship, knowledge and virtue mattered more than age or status.

For them, Su Huaizhi was a true master, worthy of reverence.