The elders whose descendants had died now carried murderous expressions wherever they went. Yet the deaths were not even the worst part anymore. Suspicion had spread through the sect like poison and disciples looked at each other with wariness.
Friends separated.
Groups shrank.
People stopped sharing wine.
Stopped cultivating together.
Stopped sleeping in common caves near each other. Even ordinary greetings became tense. A disciple staring too long would cause others to back away. Someone smiling unexpectedly invited suspicion.
People checked food, pills, and even mirrors repeatedly.
Han Yu watched all this from his pavilion and almost admired how quickly fear multiplied. He had barely acted after the first week. The sect was doing the work itself now. The night the Outer Court division fights officially ended proved it.
Han Yu did nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
Yet deaths still happened.
