I Just Wanted to Teach Cultivation, But Goddesses Keep Coming!-Chapter 165 Please Stop Trying to Avenge Me, I Haven’t Even Died Yet!

Chapter 165: Chapter 165 Please Stop Trying to Avenge Me, I Haven’t Even Died Yet!

I shouldn’t have volunteered for this... why do terrible things happen to good men like me?

The thought burned painfully as the prisoner struggled to reconcile his foolish choice with the terrifying reality he now faced.

There were no tears left to shed as the adrenaline had dried them from his eyes.

All he could feel was panic and regret swelling inside him.

When the elders had asked who wanted to act in the play that night, he had been among the first to raise his hand, eager to impress, eager to gain favor.

The thought of performing a harmless role, even a little dramatic, had seemed exciting.

But now, with the sting of the slaps still burning on his face and the voices of the elders ringing in his ears, he understood the full weight of his mistake.

His knees trembled as he realized that every decision he had made that evening had led him here.

"I’m such a fool!" he screamed inwardly, his thoughts filled with bitter self-reproach.

I’ve never regretted anything this deeply in my entire life... he thought.

The prisoner’s soul went out his body when he heard the elder’s voice turn cold and decisive.

A dark stain began to spread across his robes, but he hastily clenched his nether region muscles, stopping it before the river could burst through the dam of his trousers.

Still, the sharp scent of fear lingered faintly in the air, betraying him even as he struggled to maintain control.

"Just give the word, Lady Su," the lead clan elder said, his tone calm yet laced with killing intent, "and this traitor’s head will roll upon the ground before your very eyes."

The surrounding elders stood like executioners awaiting a command.

Spiritual pressure subtly thickened in the place, pressing down upon the kneeling man like an invisible mountain.

To them, killing him would be no more difficult than crushing an ant.

No! I’m innocent! Please don’t kill me! I don’t want to die!

I’m a good person. I even have a pure soul. I don’t step on ants and always take the long way around just to give them a chance to live.

His thoughts screamed in frantic desperation, crashing against the walls of his skull like waves in a storm.

His heart pounded violently against his ribs, each beat echoing like a funeral drum.

Cold sweat dripped down his temples.

Every instinct in his body begged him to prostrate, to beg, to cry, to deny everything.

But he did not move.

He did not dare.

Instead, he remained kneeling with his head lowered, shoulders trembling ever so slightly, playing the part of a resigned man awaiting the fall of the guillotine’s blade.

He knew that a single wrong word, a single suspicious reaction, could seal his fate instantly.

Silence stretched across the ground.

"..."

Su Muyao’s gaze rested quietly upon the kneeling figure.

Her expression was calm, unreadable, yet her mind was anything but still. Something felt wrong.

She took one breath.

Then another.

Nearly a dozen breaths passed as the tension in the scene grew so thick it was almost suffocating.

Even the elders began to grow restless, their killing intent flickering impatiently like blades hungry for blood.

Finally, she spoke.

"Thank you, Senior, for seeking justice for my household," Su Muyao said softly, yet her voice carried clearly through the scene.

"However... my husband now rests in peace. I do not wish for further blood to stain his memory."

The words fell like cool rain upon burning coals.

The suffocating pressure instantly eased.

The killing intent dispersed.

The elders exchanged brief glances but did not question her decision.

As for the prisoner...

His mind went blank.

The crushing weight that had strangled his lungs moments before vanished in an instant.

His body trembled violently as the realization sank in.

He was going to live.

The sheer wave of relief that flooded him was so overwhelming that he finally let his bladder give way, surrendering all restraint along with the terror that had gripped him moments before.

It was not fear this time, but the crushing release of tension that left his muscles weak and hollow.

A faint, unmistakable scent soon drifted through the air, quietly testifying to just how close he had come to death.

He collapsed forward onto the wet ground under him.

I’m alive... I’m still alive...

He kept his head lowered, afraid that if he dared to lift it, the fragile mercy granted for a crime he did not commit would shatter like glass.

"Lady Su is truly magnanimous and kind," the lead elder proclaimed, stroking his long white beard with visible satisfaction.

"She embodies the very virtues our Su Clan holds dear. Composed. Merciful. Righteous. The women of our clan would do well to follow her example."

Several elders nearby nodded in agreement, murmuring words of approval.

But the moment his gaze shifted back to the kneeling prisoner, all warmth drained from his expression.

The kindness in his eyes froze over, replaced by open contempt, making the prisoner feel as if he had truly committed some terrible crime, and for a moment, he half-believed that he might have been the one who murdered Su Muyao’s husband years ago.

"Hmmmp!" The wrinkles on the clan elder’s aged face seemed to deepen as his lips curled downward.

"Take the traitor away," he ordered coldly.

There was no hesitation.

Two broad-shouldered clan elders stepped forward immediately.

Their grips were iron-like as they seized the prisoner by both arms and yanked him to his feet.

His knees nearly buckled beneath him and his legs still trembled uncontrollably from the immense spiritual pressure he had endured moments ago.

The solid ground seemed to shift beneath his feet as they dragged him out of the scene.

Only after they had gone a significant distance, far from prying eyes and sharp ears, did the oppressive atmosphere finally dispersed.

The prisoner suddenly broke.

Tears streamed down his face as he choked on his own sobs.

"Senior... you said it would just be an act!" he cried, his voice cracking with grievance and lingering fear.