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Summary
Jiang Cheng can’t forget it. The ripped gold fabric soaked with blood, left on the door sill of the manor. It had the crest of the Lanling Jin Sect on it, and there are no clan members other than Jin Ling in Yunmeng Jiang Sect’s territory.
It still wasn’t enough proof. One measly piece of cloth certainly shouldn’t have been enough for the Sect Leader to have come personally, but he still did.
And he doesn’t regret it. How could he, after seeing Jin Ling, both eyes blackened and bruises all over his face? The way he was walking meant he probably had some sort of leg injury- they either broke it, or hit it badly enough that he could only shuffle, half-dragged by the ropes around his arms.
So, Jiang Cheng does not regret it. He doesn’t regret it after seeing the state his nephew was in, and he doesn’t regret it after six broken fingers and a leg, countless bruises, and a possible concussion that has him seeing stars every time he moves his head too fast.