The judgment hall of the Heavenly Dawn Sect was vast and cold, a place designed to humble anyone brought before it. The walls were carved from spirit-infused jade, glowing faintly with a light that never faded, while intricate murals depicting the sect's triumphs lined every surface. Above it all, high on his gilded throne, sat Sect Master Liu Tianxing, an imposing figure wrapped in layers of pristine white robes that shimmered with threads of gold. His face, weathered but unyielding, showed no sign of mercy.

Feng Xiao knelt on the polished marble floor at the center of the hall, his arms bound tightly behind him by spiritual chains. The chains glowed a dull blue, burning faintly against his skin with every slight movement. His breaths came shallow and ragged, but not from pain. The weight of humiliation was far worse.

Around him, the elders of the sect sat in a semicircle, their faces expressionless. Behind them, rows of disciples packed the hall, murmuring quietly among themselves. Some whispered in curiosity, others in disdain. Feng Xiao kept his head bowed, but he could feel their eyes digging into him like daggers.

"Feng Xiao," Sect Master Liu's voice boomed, silencing the hall instantly. It was deep and steady, carrying the weight of a man used to being obeyed. "You stand accused of sabotaging the Celestial Cauldron, one of our sect's most sacred artifacts. This act has brought disgrace to the sect and irreparable damage to our resources. What have you to say in your defense?"

Feng Xiao lifted his head, his dark eyes burning with defiance despite the bruises on his face. His throat felt dry, but he forced himself to speak. "I didn't do it."

His voice was hoarse, but the words rang clearly in the silent hall. For a brief moment, the whispers stopped. Then came a scoff from the far side of the room.

"Of course he says that."

Feng Xiao turned his head sharply, teeth clenched. Cheng Wu, standing with the elite inner disciples near the elder seats, had a smirk plastered across his face. He wasn't even trying to hide his satisfaction. His robes, perfectly pressed and shimmering with the sect's insignia, reflected his favored status. Feng Xiao wanted to lunge at him, to wipe that smug grin off his face, but the spiritual chains held him firmly in place.

Cheng Wu stepped forward slightly, addressing the crowd instead of Feng Xiao. "What else would we expect from someone like him? A trash disciple grasping at straws, blaming others for his incompetence." He gestured lazily toward Feng Xiao, as if presenting evidence to a bored audience. "The Celestial Cauldron's formation array bore his energy signature. No one else touched it before it ruptured. And now, here he is, acting like we're the ones at fault."

The disciples murmured in agreement. "Trash," someone whispered from the back. The word traveled through the crowd like a ripple, growing louder with every echo. Trash. Trash. Trash.

Feng Xiao's jaw tightened, his vision blurring with rage. His thoughts raced. How could they believe this? He had spent years working harder than anyone in the sect, climbing the ranks through grit and sheer determination. But now, none of it mattered. Cheng Wu's lies were too perfect, and the evidence—fabricated or not—was too damning.

"Enough," Sect Master Liu said, silencing the murmurs with a single word. His gaze swept over Feng Xiao, cold and unyielding. "The evidence speaks for itself. The Celestial Cauldron's formation core is destroyed, and you were the last to handle it. Your energy signature was found at the scene."

"I was calibrating it under Elder Cheng's orders!" Feng Xiao said, his voice rising. He turned desperately toward Elder Cheng, the man he had once trusted above all others. "Elder Cheng, you know I wouldn't sabotage it. Tell them!"

Elder Cheng's face was unreadable, his sharp features betraying nothing. For a brief moment, his eyes flickered—hesitation? Guilt?—but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. He cleared his throat and spoke, his tone calm and measured. "Feng Xiao, your negligence has caused irreparable harm to the sect. Whether deliberate or accidental, the result is the same. We have no room for such carelessness."

Feng Xiao's breath caught. The words hit harder than any physical blow. Negligence. Carelessness. This was the same man who had praised him, who had guided him, who had once said he could surpass even the inner disciples. And now he was casting him aside as though none of that had ever mattered.

"Why?" Feng Xiao whispered, his voice trembling. "Why are you doing this?"

Cheng Wu's laugh rang out again, breaking the tension. "Oh, don't take it so personally, Feng Xiao. Some of us are just born for greatness. Others, like you..." He shrugged, smirking. "Well, trash belongs in the trash heap."

The crowd chuckled nervously. Even the Sect Master's lips twitched slightly, though he quickly composed himself. Feng Xiao's fists clenched, the spiritual chains biting into his wrists as his anger surged. This was a farce—a carefully orchestrated scheme to destroy him. But why? What did they stand to gain by throwing him away?

"The decision has been made," Sect Master Liu said, his voice final. "Feng Xiao, you are hereby expelled from the Heavenly Dawn Sect. Your cultivation base will be stripped, and you will be exiled to the Valley of Ordures."

Gasps rippled through the hall. Even the disciples who had mocked him moments ago looked uneasy. The Valley of Ordures. A place of death and despair, where broken artifacts and corrupted spiritual energy gathered like a graveyard. No one survived there for long.

"No," Feng Xiao said, his voice barely a whisper. Then louder. "No! You can't do this! I didn't—"

"Take him away," the Sect Master commanded.

Two enforcers stepped forward, their faces blank, and grabbed Feng Xiao by the arms. The chains burned against his skin as they dragged him toward the hall's exit. The disciples parted, their expressions ranging from pity to indifference to amusement.

As they passed, Cheng Wu leaned in close, his voice low and mocking. "Goodbye, Trash Disciple. Don't worry—I'll make sure the sect forgets you ever existed."

Feng Xiao didn't respond. He didn't have the strength. As the grand doors of the hall slammed shut behind him, he felt the weight of their judgment settle over him like a crushing boulder. They had taken everything—his reputation, his future, his very identity. And now, they were discarding him like garbage.

But deep within the hollow ache of despair, a spark flickered. They called him trash. Fine. He would start as trash. But he would rise again. And when he did, they would regret the day they threw him away.