Chapter 308: The Temple of Tears
ongest magical arts. With a giant brush in hand, he moved from bottom to top, drawing one stroke across the heavens, facing that sea of swords head-on...Write your own ending!No one wants to fall beh...Zhang Yong looked at Jiang Wang again, using his mournful eyes to look at Jiang Wang: "Perhaps I should kill you while I'm in a state of annihilation. Perhaps this moment is the best choice... but I don't want to kill you."
He then smiled sadly: "Perhaps I can't kill you after all. Just now, my eyes told me... there is a very terrible power within you."
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At this moment, his eyes looked ordinary and unremarkable.
But Jiang Wang had already witnessed his pupil technique, knowing how terrifying it was. That night that stripped away everything, that night that took the illustrious scholar's sword...
"You are truly in cahoots with Cui Zhu." Jiang Wang said.
By this time, the identical state of collapse was enough to explain everything.
"Cui Zhu..." Zhang Yong murmured, looking at Jiang Wang and saying, "Jiang Wang, you also came from a small country. You should understand me."
"You ask me why."
"Why is that"
He asked, "We are also sons and daughters, fathers and mothers. Why must we die in the mountains, fields, and roads"
Why do our citizens, live in hardship and danger, constantly fearing ferocious beasts
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Why can the common people be so happy, and can ordinary people also go out of the city for a spring outing"
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Why are our soldiers fighting tooth and nail, yet failing to secure the resources we deserve
Why do we make so many contributions, yet most of the rewards are taken by powerful nations
Why no matter how hard we try, no matter what we do, no matter how much we give! Can't we see hope, can't we see the future!"
Jiang Wang suddenly thought of Yang Guo.
Thinking of the white-haired veteran Ji Cheng.
The old soldier, with his white hair, has seen how many lives born and died
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From boyhood to womanhood, from youth to old age, every member of the Tianxiong Ji clan fought bravely, but they were ultimately unable to save their nation from ruin.
He thought of Mount San City again.
Thinking of those who were stained with blood on Yuheng Peak, remembering Dou Yuemei's severance of her path and opening five government agencies, possessing the divine power to move mountains, she was still helpless against that mountain!
Of course, he also remembered the old demon clan member he had seen in the beast's den among the pine trees outside Sun Country’s Songtao City.
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Wild beasts are catalyzed into ferocious beasts, and ferocious beasts establish their foundation after rampaging and bloodthirsting.
Afterward, they used living demon clans as raw materials to create demonic beasts, thus harvesting a large number of Open Vein Pills.
The base color of the opening meridian pill, is tinged with blood.
The powerful nation captures the demonic race and distributes them to smaller nations. The smaller nations establish beast lairs, refine breakthrough pills, and offer them as tribute to the powerful nation. Through this system, the powerful nation firmly controls the growth of the smaller nations...
These things, Jiang Wang knows.
Jiang Wang witnessed everything with his own eyes. He had already seen a lot of the truth about the opening meridian pill, but he couldn't answer Zhang Yong... why!
Therefore, he could only ask: "What country are you from"
"My nationality doesn't matter. What matters is..."
Zhang Yong said hatefully, “We must let Jiang Shu know that he is alone.”
Some people have always hated him. Others will always hate him.
In his lifetime, he could never sleep peacefully.
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...tell him to forever, unable to truly believe any person!
Therefore, Cui Zhu risked his life once, so that I!”
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He didn't say any more.
His hand is gone, his legs have crumbled.
Jiang Wang was silent.
And Zhang Yong looked at him and said, "Jiang Wang, you are different from those people. I know that. You are different from them."
His ears were gone too, but his eyes looked at Jiang Wang, a look of longing for recognition.
His mouth said, "This world, it shouldn't be like this."
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Then its mouth disappeared too.
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Just then, a noise suddenly came from outside.
First came the sound of the guards: "Who is making such a racket at the Temple"
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Immediately following was a sharp voice: "The Imperial City Patrol is acting on an imperial decree! Make way!"
Though Jiang Wang had already lost his Arhat's bearing, he still swiftly caught the intel from the voice.
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The group that chased into the Taimiao numbered fourteen.
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And that hurried, leading voice was a familiar acquaintance. It was Ma Xiong, the fourth-rank Qingpai catcher, who had once faced off against Wang, the coroner, with the severest punishment.
It's the Qingpai team!
Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, the sound of the wind rushed into his ears.
This is just a test.
Before the words had even finished, Ma Xiong was already leading the way, dashing into the Huaguo Temple and into this very shrine dedicated to Lord Jiu Fanghou.
At this moment, Zhang Yong collapsed, reduced to nothing but a pair of eyes. With those remaining eyes, he cast one last glance outside the shrine.
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That glance, laced with mockery.
But the eyes also disappeared.
He had the power to strike in this state of collapse, but he didn't use it against Jiang Wang. If Ma Xiong had arrived a step earlier, he might have been able to leave something behind, but now it was impossible to continue.
There's no need to continue.
Jiang Wang hadn't figured out what the sarcasm in Zhang Yong's last look meant.
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But in the very instant that person's eyes disappeared.
He suddenly understood. A long time ago, he had seen that familiar feeling on Zhang Yong...
That was the vastness of the landscape that he felt a deep connection to, the bewilderment of being far from home with no one to rely on, and the pain of his shattered homeland that brought tears to his eyes.
As Zhang Yong said, he didn't control Jiang Wang with pupil techniques, but stirred up the emotions in Jiang Wang's heart. Including empathy, pity, and familiarity...
Therefore... Zhang Yong, like him, is a person who has lost his home and is a guest of the bereaved family.
Now, with Zhang Yong's death, the power of the dōjutsu has also disappeared.
Therefore, Jiang Wang is able to think things through more clearly.
Today, Cheung Wing is here for her own reasons. It's just a coincidence.
Then, why would Zhang Yong come here
Is it just because he took on the identity of "Zhang Yong" that he came to pay respects to his ancestors
No.
Jiang Wang suddenly caught a faint smell of blood—Zhang Yong collapsed, his flesh and soul extinguished. There shouldn't be a smell of blood.
...No...
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The metallic smell had always been there; it was just that before, Zhang Yong's ocular jutsu had masked it.
Jiang Wang suddenly raised his head and looked at the statue of Jiu Fan Hou.
While Ma Xiong, who was more adept at investigations, had already strode forward, yanking the purple robe off Jiu Fanghou's shoulders!
Thus, everyone who entered the Spirit Shrine saw what Zhang Yong had left behind before his death.
That was a complaint written in blood ink on the statue of Jiu Fan Hou.
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That was a poem that Jiang Wang had a deep impression of.
The blood-soaked scroll read—
"Died fighting tenaciously for wealth and longevity, he gave his life to the country as a nameless general!"
"Throughout the land, people sing the praises of Li from Shimen. But who knows Zhang from Fengxian"
That was a poem written by Mo Ya, a great scholar of Qingya Academy.
That eminent scholar was a man who hated evil with all his being, and he would berate anyone he disliked without holding back.
When Jiang Wang first heard it, he was still like Xu Xiangqian, seeing injustice and speaking out for Zhang Yong. He recited it to mock Gao Jing, who was from the Gao family of Jinghai.
Speaking of this poem, although it is harsh, it's nothing major.
Mo Ya didn't need to make a living in Qi, and the emperor of Qi wouldn't send someone to hunt down Mo Ya for just one poem. There are plenty of wild people in the world.
Moreover, the world is so vast, power ultimately has its limits. Even a farmer in the countryside of Chu wouldn't dare to provoke the local bullies, yet he would dare to curse the Emperor Qin for three days and three nights.
So a satirical poem is hardly anything special.
The only thing is...
This poem is written in blood on the statue of Marquis Jiufan.
And the author of this poem is the last descendant of the Marquis Jiu Fan!
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