Chapter 22: The Banquet Ends, A Storm Arises from Trouble

The clamor of the banquet had not yet fully faded, and the fragrance of fine wine and delicacies still lingered in the air. As Yun Yao sought a quiet corner to catch her breath, a surge of noisy voices shattered the brief tranquility.

Several disciples of the Immortal Sect rushed over, their expressions frantic, their voices trembling: "Senior Sister Yun Yao, something is wrong! Several guests... several guests are saying they feel unwell!"

Yun Yao’s heart sank, her expression turning grave in an instant. The banquet hall, which had been brimming with joy moments ago, now seemed shrouded in a gloom. She hurried to the side of the guests, inquiring about their condition with deep concern. Their faces were pale, fine beads of sweat trickling down their foreheads as they muttered incessantly about stomach pain and dizziness.

"How could this happen?" Yun Yao’s brows were knitted tight, waves of worry washing over her. The surrounding disciples began to murmur, and a tense atmosphere spread rapidly. Could it be food poisoning? But Chef Wang was known for his caution; every dish was subjected to rigorous inspection. Such a problem should not have occurred.

Just then, a sharp voice pierced the air: "Yun Yao! Is this the banquet you hosted? To think you have allowed the guests to be poisoned—what do you have to say for yourself!" It was Young Master Song, his face full of arrogance, his tone dripping with accusation and discontent.

Yun Yao turned to him, her gaze clear and steady, devoid of any fear. "Young Master Song, the matter has not yet been investigated; please do not jump to conclusions. I trust in Chef Wang’s character; he would never intentionally poison the food."

"Hmph! If he didn't poison it, are you suggesting that I did?" Young Master Song sneered, his tone becoming even more overbearing. "I tell you, I will not let today's events pass! If any harm comes to these honored guests, you shall bear full responsibility!"

Young Master Song’s unreasonable behavior drew murmurs of discontent from those nearby. Someone whispered, "Young Master Song is being too excessive, accusing Senior Sister Yun Yao before the truth is even known." "Indeed," another added, "Senior Sister Yun Yao put so much heart into this banquet. She must be suffering more than anyone now that this has happened."

Yun Yao took a deep breath, struggling to suppress her agitation and unease. "Young Master Song, please calm down. I will uncover the truth as quickly as possible and provide an explanation to everyone."

Young Master Song intended to argue further, but was interrupted by a low voice: "Young Master Song, that is enough."

Jun Mohan stepped forward, an aura of cool detachment surrounding him, standing as proud and solitary as a plum blossom in midwinter. He swept his gaze calmly over the crowd before settling on Young Master Song, his tone indifferent yet infused with unquestionable authority: "Young Master Song, this matter remains uninvestigated. Is it not somewhat inappropriate for you to be so aggressive? Junior Sister Yun Yao has spared no effort in preparing for this banquet; why would she intentionally do anything to tarnish the reputation of the Immortal Sect?"

His words carried weight, like a clear spring in the mountains, washing away the doubts in the hearts of those present. Young Master Song’s expression stiffened. Though he was accustomed to being overbearing, he was forced to restrain himself before Jun Mohan, who, as the senior disciple of the Immortal Sect, held a status far above his own. He opened his mouth to retort, but found no words. The surrounding disciples nodded in agreement, supporting Jun Mohan’s defense. Young Master Song felt his face burn with shame and resentment, as if he had been slapped.

Yet, Yun Yao did not wait for Jun Mohan to solve the problem for her. Taking a deep breath, she declared, "I propose we re-examine the ingredient warehouse. Perhaps we can find some clues there."

At these words, the crowd was stunned. They had expected Yun Yao to be flustered by the harassment, yet she remained composed, taking the initiative to uncover the truth. Such responsibility and courage earned her their newfound respect.

Ignoring the astonishment of the crowd, Yun Yao walked straight toward the ingredient warehouse. The door creaked with a harsh, aged sound. A smell of mixed ingredients wafted out, seemingly laced with an elusive, strange odor. Yun Yao frowned, her gaze sweeping over the neatly arranged ingredients as a sense of unease rose within her. Suddenly, her eyes stopped on a pile of medicinal herbs in the corner; they looked disheveled, as if someone had disturbed them.

"These herbs..." Yun Yao murmured. As she reached out to gently touch them, her fingertips brushed against a sticky, viscous liquid that emitted a faint, fishy stench. Her heart chilled. She looked up sharply toward the back of the warehouse, just in time to see a black shadow flicker by.

"Who is there?"

The back of the warehouse was dim, the air filled with dust and the smell of mildew, and a chill crept up her spine. She sensed keenly that the shadow was no accident. Someone was meddling in the dark, and the motive was likely related to the poisoning. Time was of the essence; Yun Yao felt a tremendous pressure, as if a boulder were crushing her chest, making it difficult to breathe.

The cold environment of the warehouse only deepened her anxiety. She carefully approached the disturbed herbs, examining each one for any traces. Suddenly, she discovered that the root of one herb was broken and stained an unnatural black, emitting that same faint, fishy stench. It was nearly identical to the smell in the banquet hall!

Yun Yao’s heart tightened; she realized this was likely the culprit behind the guests' illness. At that moment, a black shadow lunged from the depths of the warehouse, striking at her with lethal intent. Yun Yao reacted swiftly, dodging the attack and drawing her sword to engage the shadow. The mysterious assailant was highly skilled, every move deadly; Yun Yao narrowly avoided being struck several times. As they clashed, wooden shelves and sacks were shattered by the shockwaves of their magic, creating a deafening roar.

The air in the warehouse seemed to freeze, filled with a tense and dangerous atmosphere. Hearing the commotion, the disciples rushed to assist. In an instant, the warehouse was a flurry of flashing blades and weaving spells, a scene of intense combat.

As they fought, Yun Yao gradually identified the opponent's weakness. Although the assailant’s techniques were fierce, they relied too heavily on brute force and lacked variation. Seizing the opportunity, Yun Yao channeled all her spiritual energy and thrust her sword toward the assailant's chest. Unable to dodge, the figure let out a muffled groan, stumbled back, and vanished into the night.

Yun Yao's heroic performance won the admiration of the crowd, further cementing their trust in her. However, the identity of the mysterious figure remained a new, hanging mystery, casting a shadow over everyone's hearts.

"It seems," Yun Yao said, her voice low as her gaze fell upon a piece of blood-stained black fabric, "we must begin our investigation from what he left behind."