Daily life of a cultivation judge-Chapter 1141 - The haunting shadow of the golden era (1)

1141: The haunting shadow of the golden era (1)

1141: The haunting shadow of the golden era (1)

Xia Fang wore a somber expression that acted as a window into the depths of sorrow she carried within her tiny frame.

Yang Qing had half-prepared himself to wait for minutes—if not longer—as she waded through those emotions.

He knew how heavy and suffocating such memories could be, to the point where even speaking about them became an arduous task.

To voice them out meant submerging yourself completely in those painful recollections.

Having witnessed his fair share of cultivators sharing the darkest moments of their lives while seated behind his judge’s desk, Yang Qing understood how difficult it could be.

There were cases where he had sat for hours, waiting for a single testimony because the victim was too broken—or too overwhelmed—to speak.

Fortunately, it seemed he wouldn’t have to wait that long for Xia Fang.

Despite the visible weight of those memories, there was a firm, quiet resolve flickering in her eyes—a sign that, no matter how suffocating the story was, she would push through.

Xia Fang cleared her throat softly and rubbed her eyes, stopping the tears already threatening to fall.

She quickly offered Yang Qing an apologetic smile.

“Sorry for the poor display,” she said.

“No, it’s okay,” Yang Qing replied gently, taking it upon himself to refill her cup when he noticed it was nearly empty.

She nodded gratefully and picked up her cup the moment Yang Qing finished pouring.

Only after taking three slow sips did she feel ready to continue.

“That rogue cultivator pleaded for a single petal, but my clan elder refused him—understandably so,” Xia Fang began.

Yang Qing inwardly nodded in agreement.

While every part of the Celestial Light Hawthorn was precious, the petals were undoubtedly the most valuable.

No one in their right mind would willingly give up even a single petal—especially not to a stranger.

And if that elder intended to use the flower to break through to the palace realm, then he had even fewer reasons to part with any of it, as such a breakthrough required the flower in its entirety.

“After he was refused, he asked for one of the sepals.

When that was denied, he begged for eight drops of its sap—then four—then one…

but still, our clan elder refused,” Xia Fang said, her expression growing heavier with each word.

“Unwilling to give up, the rogue cultivator made one last plea—for just the surface shavings of its stalk,” she continued quietly.

“But…

he was refused just the same.”

From the account, Yang Qing could imagine how desperate that rogue cultivator must have been—and how dire his wife’s circumstances were—for him to beg to the point of asking for just the shavings of the Celestial Light Hawthorn.

Yang Qing wasn’t sure if the shavings would have worked for whatever the rogue cultivator needed, but if he were in his shoes, he likely would have done the same.

Anything was better than nothing—and when it came to a four-petal Celestial Light Hawthorn, that truth became even more absolute.

Every part of it, down to the tiniest shaving, had immense worth.

Even those shavings might surpass the most precious top-tier sky-rank herb or potion, especially in terms of healing and recovery.

In that category, the Celestial Light Hawthorn reigned supreme.

Few spiritual plants, herbs, or natural treasures could rival its restorative capabilities.

Yang Qing let out a sympathetic sigh.

The very qualities that made the flower so valuable—the ones that gave worth even to its shavings—were the same reasons no one would willingly part with any piece of it.

The rogue cultivator’s plea had been doomed to fall on deaf ears from the start.

Even if he had asked for the dust clinging to its sepals or the random dew on its stalk, he still would have been refused—despite those things having no direct connection to the flower’s essence.

That was just how things were when something held unimaginable value.

“Ultimately, in the end, after being refused everything related to the Celestial Light Hawthorn, he decided to beg for something else,” Xia Fang said.

“His life,” she added, a strange flicker passing through her eyes.

“This…

our clan elder agreed to,” she said softly.

Even without her saying it outright, Yang Qing had already suspected they had granted that request.

If they hadn’t, Xia Fang wouldn’t have worn that conflicted look when she mentioned the rogue cultivator—the kind of look that hinted at a lingering wish that things had turned out differently whether it was granting him a piece of the Celestial Light Hawthorn, no matter how small, or denying his final request and or simply…just killing him.

She tried to hide that part, but Yang Qing could see it.

Perhaps because her emotions were so raw, her true feelings slipped through.

Some part of her wished the rogue cultivator had been killed—be it by her clan elder’s hands or someone else’s during the fight for the treasure.

And Yang Qing’s guess was right.

Even though she hadn’t been there herself and had only heard the tale through stories passed down by her elders, Xia Fang had spent countless hours replaying that scene in her mind—wondering what could have been done differently to change the fate their clan had suffered because of the decisions made that day.

In many of those imagined scenarios, the majority led Xia Fang to one lingering wish—that her clan elder had parted with the Celestial Light Hawthorn in any form.

Her most preferred outcome, however, was that her clan elder and the others from her clan had never stumbled upon that mysterious realm in the first place.

If they had never set foot there, the hell she called her present reality would never have come to pass.

But if entering that realm had been unavoidable, she at least wished her clan elders had lost the fight and been forced to abandon any claim to the flower.

And if even that outcome proved impossible, she hoped the rogue cultivator would have either died at the hands of another or, if he made it to the end, escaped with the flower before her clan elder could catch up.

Yet, buried deep within her heart—just a small, bitter part—was the thought Yang Qing had sensed.

A part of her wished her clan elder had erred on the side of caution and ended the rogue cultivator’s life.

At least then, maybe things would have turned out differently.

With no one left to tell the tale of what happened inside that mysterious realm, perhaps the disaster that followed could have been avoided.

Of course, there’s always the chance we would have been eliminated down to the root if things played out that way.

After all, there was that cultivator who slipped away.

Who’s to say the matter would have remained completely secret?

Xia Fang thought.

That lingering doubt—the fear that the retaliation could have been far worse—was the reason why, among all the possibilities she had played out in her mind, that option was her least favored.