Chapter 22 Heroes, Demons, Growth... (2/2)

Great Qin, Great Yuan Era.May 17th. The rebel Ni Tianxing, wielding a sword in Fufeng County, massacred the Zhao family, fought fiercely against the law, and, with a severed arm, escaped. That day, a crimson star flashed beside the Purple Forbidden Enclosure Star, casting ominous light, overshadowing the imperial radiance. Guangxing Platform reported overnight. The malefic star bewilders, the foretold calamity has arisen. ————Chronicles of Qin, Volume Seventeen Atop Ghost Cry Cliff in Fufeng, the pale-faced Yu Wenze and the aged Master stood shoulder to shoulder, their weapons shattered, yet their expressions remained indifferent. Sёarch* The NôvelFire.nёt website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. This Pillar of the Seventy-Two States narrowed his eyes, gazing at the clouds below, with a severed arm at his feet. "A cliff stands a thousand ren high, here Heaven and Earth are inverted, making it impossible to soar." "Ni Tianxing, being of the Upper Third Rank and protected by a Divine Weapon, might not be dead, but it's too late to pursue him now." "I shall report to the Imperial Court that Tianxing has fled against heaven's will." The Master's demeanor became increasingly aged and weary, as those of advanced age often reminisce about the past, observing the thick clouds below, he seemed to see again that young Swordsman from more than twenty years ago, his eyebrows spirited and his eyes clear. He had said he wanted to become a Hero, to punish the wicked and eradicate evil. He had said he would eat the best from all over the world, play across all lands, that he wanted to marry the girl next door, and keep three cats—one called Roast Chicken, one called Bun, and one called Dumpling. He had said he wanted to ensure his family could eat meat at every meal. At that thought, the old man looked even more aged. It seemed he saw again that fiery-eyed young man from twenty years ago. "Was I wrong..." ............… Wang Anfeng and his two companions, as usual, underwent an inspection, and given the backing of the Master of Fufeng, faced no difficulties. But none of them took it well. Especially Wang Anfeng and Baili Feng. Baili Feng, holding the remains of his Mo Blade, grew notably somber. Wang Anfeng walked slowly forward, appearing tranquil but gripping his wooden sword so tightly his veins bulged. After returning, they scattered. During the resting periods after his cultivation sessions, Wang Anfeng had several nightmares. Dancing atop the flames, a pair of red embroidered shoes, bright as blood, fiery as passion. A head held high in derisive laughter, a scholar claiming to be a fiend. Within the Zhao residence, men and women lying dead in unison. The grand and majestic banner of Qin fluttering, its fabric streaming with a color like flowing blood, enveloped by solemn black. Each time he witnessed this sorrowful scene, the young man would wake from the nightmare, unable to fall back asleep, his view of the vast and glorious Great Qin shattered by what he thought was an ordinary feast, violently destroyed. Beneath the peace and prosperity, what caused this naturally fun-loving scholar to become a mass murderer... He had not experienced the scholar's journey, so he had no right to speculate. But something must have gone wrong. Otherwise, it shouldn't be. Great Qin, human hearts, Jianghu, Noble Clans, Divine Weapons, interests... The young man's eyes gradually deepened. There must be a mistake! Atop Shaoshi Mountain, as he looked out into the deep night sky with the stars slowly emerging, he realized the vast Qin was not as flawless and mighty as it appeared. He saw the wildly dancing shoes, the gluttonous scholar proclaiming himself a demon, and still the 'open and honest' Great Qin. The young man rose, traveled across the vast ocean and sky, humble but determined, he continued walking slowly. A Scholar in green robes frowned and questioned, the young man danced with his sword under the night sky. "Cultivation!" And then, find out the truth! ............... The Qin Iron Troops searched beneath the cliffs for three days and nights. Nothing was found. Imperial decrees were spread across the lands, declaring the man's death would be without crime and offering heavy rewards. Meanwhile, a thousand miles away, a blood-soaked, one-armed man passed through a mountain village, his demeanor indifferent yet caught by the village chief. "Sir, you are a Martial Artist, aren't you..." The old man with a wrinkled face looked at the man before him, the broken left arm, his right hand holding a blood-red sword, as if flames of blood were swirling around it, inspiring terror in the heart, a spontaneous fear appeared on his face, yet it seemed something supported him, preventing him from retreating. The Confucian Scholar looked up at him briefly, nodded slightly, and spoke in a gentle tone: "Yes, what guidance does this elder have?" Seeing his gentle demeanor, the old man heaved a sigh of relief and said: "It's getting late, not suitable for traveling. Why not rest here for a while?" Ni Tianxing observed his manner, aware of the ulterior motives but unconcerned, went inside and saw the villagers all showed fear but pretended to be enthusiastic, then went to the village elder's house which presented a table full of good dishes, warmly inviting him to sit at the head of the table. The Confucian Scholar seated himself, and the old man then brought out a pretty young girl of around fourteen or fifteen, pushed her to his side with a flattered laugh, then excused himself to fetch wine. Ni Tianxing's lips curled in mockery, but his gaze softened when he looked at the downcast girl, patted the stool beside him, and said: "Sit, we have so much food, let's eat together." He casually placed his sword aside, picked up the chopsticks to eat some food, behaving very openly. The girl, considering the instructions from the elder, bit her lip. If this man did not touch her and things went wrong, punishment would surely follow. Trembling, she lifted her hand and began undoing her buttons, revealing the milky, delicate skin of her shoulder. Just as she was about to continue, a hand suddenly rested on hers, warm and dry. The girl trembled slightly, the Confucian Scholar's eyes were indifferent, yet seemed to have a hint of sympathy, saying: "Why go to such lengths?" The Confucian Scholar looked at the young girl before him, but he could hear the old man's rambling from behind the wall. "Elder, is this really okay... Several martial artists have already died, none able to kill those bandits... Even the soldiers have no way to deal with this stockade, having lost many men." "Moreover, this is a man with a severed arm... this..." "Let go! Babbling on, they are heroes, aren't they just seeking fame? If they won't act heroically and righteously, should we, the ordinary people, go to our deaths?" "Being able to kill a few more bandits before dying would make us feel better... One day we will be able to live in peace!" A sneer appeared at the corner of the Confucian scholar's mouth. Suddenly, footsteps were heard. He skillfully maneuvered the palm that was resting on the young girl's palm, making her sit on his lap, his hand gently resting on her waist. The young girl trembled slightly, a sadness crossing her mind, but she found that his hand was tactful, not offending her. The wooden door pushed open, and the old man entered with a simple smile, carrying a jar of sealed wine. He glanced at the girl 'embraced' in the scholar's arms, his heart slightly relaxed, and he chuckled, "Master, has Green Willow been remiss in any way?" The Confucian scholar's smile was serene as he spoke through voice transmission technique for the girl to serve him some dishes, casually saying, "Not at all." "If you have something to say, just say it." The old man's expression stiffened for a moment. He collected his thoughts, his face filled with sorrow as he delivered the prepared speech about bandits wreaking havoc, familiar with the terrain, and their crafty leader making them difficult to resist. Even the soldiers had suffered losses, but after a period of disappearing, the bandits had returned, more rampant than before. Finally, he bowed deeply and said, "I earnestly implore you, Master, to save us..." The Confucian scholar, looking at the old man's earnest and sorrowful face, leisurely said, "I refuse..." The old man's expression slightly stiffened. The Confucian scholar had already gently pushed the girl away, stood up with his sword, and said lazily, "Being able to repulse the soldiers, their strength is not weak. You want me to risk my life for you without offering anything in return; that's too presumptuous..." The old man, in disbelief, said, "But, but you are a hero..." His voice abruptly stopped as a red longsword was pointed at his throat, carrying an undisguised intent to kill. The Confucian scholar indifferently glanced at him. "I am not a hero." "And you, you are insulting them." The wrist flicked, the sharp sword suddenly broke through the air, and the girl screamed. Moments later, the Confucian scholar walked leisurely out of the mountain village. Within the house, the old man collapsed on the ground, still trembling, while the girl sat, dazed. Everything was undamaged except for one crisp fried peanut missing from the table, along with the Confucian scholar's grumbling. If there were medicinal porridge, that would be best. The cold night wind blew, and in a hidden stockade, a fierce fire blazed up. Red light flowed over the longsword. The Confucian scholar, alone in his journey among Heaven and Earth, wore an indifferent expression. The mad killing intent that had filled his mind dissipated significantly, but he felt emptier, his mind continually returning to the many books he had read over the last twenty years. The principles within were simple and unpretentious yet raised even more questions. In the imperial court, those high officials read far more, far longer than he did; why, then, does the world still harbor bandits, people who hope for heroes to save them, populace akin to demons? There must be dirt hidden under the vast and dignified government. There would be the birth of outsiders like himself, hands bloodstained. The Confucian scholar walked slowly, his eyes clear, much clearer than when he was at Zhao's residence. Zhao Zheng's affair had already passed twenty years. Was it the only incident? Why did no one tend to it, no one investigate? The hall full of people who understood the principles, why didn't they investigate? Couldn't they find out? He still had the chance for revenge, and over three hundred resentful souls had finally made sense, but what about the others? Were there more who had been wrongfully killed in the past under fabricated charges, becoming voices that sang praises and eventually turning to rot, enabling the Great Qin tree to grow more lush, its branches and leaves, and fruits on the tree to absorb more nutrients? And his own act of revenge would, after today, be scorned by so-called saints and gentlemen. People's eyes are on the front of their heads, he knew. So they mostly see only the deaths of today and fail to see the bloodshed of the past, denouncing cruelty without knowing that these people's wealth over the past twenty years was exchanged for the lives and futures of over three hundred resentful souls. Every bite of meat eaten was mixed with the agonizing screams of resentful souls. Every sip of wine had the smell of deep, decaying blood. Enjoy more content from empire And more people... more people, noble clans, bureaucrats... Don't rush. If there had been no incident twenty years ago... it might already be a small village by now... Ni Tianxing suddenly felt as if awakening from a dream, yet he thought, were those who gave the orders also disciples of the Confucian Sect reciting the principles of their books? Were the principles wrong? Did that old man a thousand years ago sacrifice himself in search of the same thing that now lay prostrate before emperors, offered with both hands? The expression in the Confucian Scholar's eyes gradually cleared, the dissipating aura about his body ceased fading and began climbing towards a higher plane in another direction. He took a deliberate step forward, his lips slightly parted, his voice cold and clear, reverberating through the surrounding heaven and earth. "Repay kindness with kindness, and grievance with directness." "When the country follows the path of virtue, support it..." "When the country does not follow the path of virtue." His step faltered slightly, his lips gently parted. "Destroy it." With a thunderous explosion, Ni Tianxing's aura surged around him. His hair tie came loose, and his black hair danced wildly, but only his eyes grew ever more radiant, like cold stars, sending shivers down people's spines. What emerged wasn't merely unalloyed righteousness but not wickedness either. Somber, icy, even insane. To kill in order to stop killing, a way of decisive action vastly different from that of the disciples of the Confucian Sect throughout the world. The Qi Force swirled around him like wailing ghosts, as if cheering and chanting in the midst, the Master with severed arm, slowly and deliberately making his way toward a direction growing distant from Fufeng, further away from the human world. PS: Becoming a sinister lord doesn't happen overnight... The gluttonous Ni Master, he's truly dead. All that's left is the demonic Ni Tianxing, and he doesn't deny his hands are bloody. He himself is one of the errors he sees, and this doesn't conflict with his change of thought, don't pull this topic anymore, huh. Regarding the entanglement with this character's issues, just a question, if your whole family and relatives, over three hundred people, were wiped clean from existence, could you be content with only slaying the chief culprit? In the pre-Qin period, a vendetta as old as nine generations was still consider vendible. From the moral standpoint of a hero, expecting a revenger to act realistically is not feasible, and I am also writing a complex character for the first time, for any inadequacies, I hope you'll be understanding. I know many might not accept the gluttonous character's shift, thinking this person should die immediately... but this is Jianghu, isn't it just about heroes and devils