Zha Muxi's gaze was as cold as frost, sweeping over the crowd before her. Her voice carried not a shred of warmth, as though it blew down from the peaks of some distant glacier. Slowly, she spoke, every word like a blade piercing the heart of everyone present.
"Confess?" she repeated with a disdainful sneer, as though she had just heard some absurd joke. "I have yet to grant her the right to atone for her sins with her death, and yet you all presume to decide on your own that she has already confessed?"
Her voice was laden with majesty and unquestionable authority, instantly silencing the once-clamorous courtyard.
Chapter 116