For thousands of years, there had been many heroes in the world of cultivation, but now there were only ten people who could be listed on the List of Immortals, and Nangong Zhangying was one of them.
In the past, Mo Ran did not think much of it. He once crushed the 72 cities of Confucian Wind with just a little finger. He only thought that there were hundreds of useless people hiding in the immortal city. Before the knife was placed on their necks, they began to cry in pain. Before the sword was cut, they began to beg for mercy.
Just like what Ye Wangxi said before he died in his previous life, in the 70 cities of Confucian Wind, there was not a single man.
In Mo Ran's eyes, Confucian Wind Sect was a plate of loose sand, and the Nangong Zhangying who gathered this plate of loose sand, what kind of great person could he be?
Bloodstains were everywhere, and the foundation of a hundred years was razed to the ground by the latecomers in an instant. There were dead bodies everywhere, and crows were pecking at the stomachs of the dead people. The Emperor Ta of that year walked up the stairs. There was no expression on his face, and he pushed open the door of the Hall of Sages.
He wore a black cloak that reached the ground, and walked through the long corridor that was hung with the portraits of the previous leaders and elders of Confucian Wind Sect. He finally stopped at the end of the Hall of Sages.
The Celestial Treading Monarch raised his head. He was wearing a cloak, and under the hood, his entire face couldn't be seen clearly. Only his pale chin could be seen. It was arched fiercely and arrogantly. He raised his head slightly and sized up the statue that was taller than a real person in an inquiring manner.
It was a statue carved with white jade spirit stone. It was a young immortal wearing a wide robe and wide sleeves. He stood in the air with a bow in his hand. The craftsman's strokes were strong and skillful. The eyes were inlaid with crystal stones, and the clothes were smeared with crystal sand. The bloody smell of the morning sun shone through the decorative skylight behind the statue, making him look like a banished immortal soaking in the Nine Heavens Divine Light.
The half of the Emperor Ta's face under the hood suddenly showed a smile, revealing his white teeth and sweet dimples.
He tidied up his clothes and bowed deeply. Then he raised his handsome face and said with a smile, "I've heard a lot about you, Immortal Nangong."
Naturally, the statue could not speak. Only the pair of black crystals glowed, as if they were staring at the person who had just arrived.
The Emperor Ta was extremely bored. No one paid any attention to him, but he was still able to happily act for a long time. "Junior Mo Weiyu, it's my honor to meet you today. Immortal Nangong, you're so cool."
Laughing and joking, he talked for a long time by himself in a lively manner. A living person would go crazy in front of a statue.
"I've seen your Xuan Xuan Xuan …" He counted with his fingers and then sighed. "I can't count clearly. Who knows which generation of your nephews he is? I've seen who knows which generation of your nephews he is, and who knows which generation of your disciples he is."
Then, he smiled brightly and said, "But now, they have all become ghosts under my blade, so if you haven't reincarnated yet, you have probably seen them already."
"It's a pity that I didn't see your grandson Xuan Xuan Xuan Xuan. That guy ran away before the city was breached. I don't know if he's dead or alive. It's a bit of a pity. "
He was happy again and chatted with the statue intimately for a while. Then, he said, "Oh right, I heard that Immortal Nangong was also a hero of the generation. Everywhere you went, there were people who swore loyalty to you. There were even people who supported Immortal Nangong and claimed to be the emperor."
Mo Ran smiled and said, "Isn't that as impressive as I am today? So this time, what I said before was all nonsense. I just have a question. I don't know why Immortal Nangong didn't refuse to ascend the throne that year. "
He paused and then walked forward a few steps. At this time, his eyes fell on the warning tablet behind the statue of Nangong Zhangying. In fact, this tablet was so big that he had seen it a long time ago, but he deliberately ignored it.
The tablet was carved by Nangong Zhangying at the age of ninety-six with a sword. At first, it was simple and unadorned, but later, it was added with gold powder by his children. Now, looking at it, it was shining brightly, and each word was worth a thousand gold.
Mo Ran stared at it for a while, then said with a smile, "Oh, I understand. 'Greed, resentment, deceit, murder, plunder, and plunder, are the seven things that I, a scholar, can't do?' Immortal Elder really has a strong character. "
He stood with his hands behind his back and continued, "But Immortal Elder lived a bright life with a pure reputation. You also earnestly taught your descendants until your death. But I'm very curious, did Immortal Elder ever expect that one day, the Confucian Wind Sect would become like today?"
When he said this, he pursed his lips, as if he was thinking of a suitable word to describe it. Then, he thought of something, so he clapped his hands and said with a smile, "A nest of rats?"
After he finished speaking, he laughed out loud. His laughter was happy and unrestrained, pure and evil, and it echoed in the silent and solemn Hall of Sages for a long time. His voice was like ripping silk, as if it wanted to tear apart the scroll paintings that swayed slightly in the wind, to tear apart the portraits of the heroes of the Confucian Wind Sect of the past …
That laughter finally stopped abruptly in front of Nangong Zhangying's ice-cold sculpture.
Mo Ran no longer laughed. He restrained his smile, and a layer of ice slowly condensed on his face.
His dark eyes stared at the Wu Daifeng of the previous dynasty in front of him. He stared at the person who was like him, who could also command the world and trample all the immortals.
It was as if time and space were intersecting, and the first immortal of two eras were confronting each other in the torrent of time.
In the end, Mo Ran said softly, "Nangong Zhangying, your Confucian Wind Sect is a pool of dirty water. I don't believe that you are clean."
He suddenly waved his sleeves, turned around, and strode out of the Hall of Sages. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew off the hood of his cloak, and finally revealed the face of the Emperor Ta that was about to go crazy.
He had the most handsome appearance in the world, and was fully deserving of the title of a handsome man. However, this face was occupied by a vicious and sinister gaze that was second to none in the world, like a vulture that ate carrion.
His black robe was like a thick cloud of ink, rolling down the long stairs.
He was the evil spirit of the human world, the Asura of the mortal world. He looked around and saw the corpses of the disciples of the Confucian Wind Sect everywhere. Some of them were missing arms and legs. The Emperor Ta did not accept the surrendered soldiers. Apart from that woman surnamed Song, he could still spare, but the rest were all killed.
At that moment, Mo Ran's heart gave birth to an extremely cruel joy. He looked at the gorgeous morning clouds in the sky. The rising sun pierced through the clouds, and a dazzling golden light shone on his pale face.
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and clenched his hands in his sleeves. He was slightly trembling because of ecstasy and excitement.
He used to be a person whose life was worthless. When he was young, he used to beg for food in Linyi. He once saw his mother starve to death. He didn't even have a straw mat to wrap her body in. At that time, he asked a cultivator of the Confucian Wind Sect if he could get him a coffin, the thinnest and worst one would be fine. However, that person said to him, without exception, that person ridiculed him.
That cultivator said, "What kind of person should be matched with what kind of coffin. Life is three feet long, you can't ask for ten feet."
He had no choice, so he wanted to bury his mother on the spot. However, Linyi was strictly guarded. The nearest mass grave was outside of Dai City, and it could only be reached after crossing two hills.
He dragged his mother's body, and along the way, he received disgusted, disdainful, surprised, and sympathetic gazes. However, no one helped him. He walked for fourteen days. A child dragging a woman's body. Fourteen days.
Fourteen days. Not a single person was willing to help him.
At first, he would kneel on the side of the road and beg, pleading with passersby, coachmen, and farmers to give him and his mother a ride on a wooden cart.
But who would be willing to put a body they didn't know on their cart?
Later, he stopped pleading. He just gritted his teeth and dragged his mother, walking step by step.
The body stiffened, softened, and began to rot. A foul stench and corpse fluid seeped out. All the passersby stayed three feet away from him, covering their noses and rushing forward.
On the fourteenth day, he finally arrived at the mass grave.
There was no longer any smell of living people on his body. The stench of corpses pervaded his bones.
He didn't have a pick, so he used his hands to dig a shallow hole under the mass grave. He really didn't have the strength to dig a deep hole. He dragged his mother, who had rotted beyond recognition, into the hole. Then he sat beside her in a daze.
After a long time, he said stiffly, "Mother, I should bury you now."
He began to scoop up dirt. He only managed to scoop up a handful when he sprinkled it on his mother's chest. He collapsed and cried bitterly.
It was strange. He thought that his tears had already dried up.
"No, no, no. If I bury you, I won't see you anymore. If I bury you, I won't see you anymore." He crawled back into the hole and lay on top of the rotting body, crying. When his emotions calmed down, he went to scoop up dirt again. But the dirt seemed to have some kind of smell that could open up people's tear ducts. He was utterly defeated again.
"Why is it all rotten like this … it's all rotten like this …"
"Why isn't there even a mat …"
"Mother … Mother …"
He rubbed his face against her. He didn't despise her for being dirty. She smelled bad. She was dead. She didn't have a single piece of skin on her body. She was bleeding with pus and maggots crawling all over her body.
He lay in her arms and cried bitterly. He choked and sobbed. Every sound seemed to be dug out from his throat stained with blood.
In the end, the mass grave echoed with his wail. That voice was distorted, hoarse, and unclear. Sometimes it sounded like a person's cry, but more often it sounded like the wail of a cub who had lost its mother.
"Mother … Mother!!"
"Someone come … Is there anyone … Can someone come and bury me too … Bury me too …"
In the blink of an eye, twenty days passed.
Mo Ran returned to Linyi. He stood on top of the jade tiled pavilion of the Confucian Wind Sect, standing in front of the mountain of corpses and the sea of blood.
The young cub who smelled of corpses back then had become brightly furred and had sharp fangs. He opened his eyes again. His pupils flashed with a crazy and intense brilliance.
Today, he stood here. Who would dare to say to him that you can't get ten feet of accuracy?
Ridiculous! He wanted ten feet, a thousand feet, ten thousand feet, ten thousand feet!
He wanted them, he wanted everyone in this mortal world to kneel down and rub their knees on the ground. He wanted them to kneel down and present his ten thousand feet, ten thousand feet, ten thousand feet —
Trample all the immortals and rule the world!!!
He entered the Hall of Sages and saw the Nangong Zhangying. He became more and more certain of his own desires and ambitions. Yes, trample all the immortals and rule the world. He could grasp everything in the palm of his hand and grasp everything in his grasp.
He would no longer be the child who cried bitterly while holding a corpse. He would no longer let the people he loved die in front of him. He would no longer let them rot in front of him. Their skin would grow white bones, and their beauty would decay into mud.
He would never do it again.
A hundred years later, he would also become a deity like the Nangong Zhangying. He would be worshipped by people, admired by the high mountains, with white jade as his body and gold as his calligraphy.
No, he would be better than the Nangong Zhangying. His life and death would be far better than the Confucian Wind Sect. And he, the first monarch of the cultivation world, would be more admirable and praiseworthy than the Nangong Zhangying, a hypocrite who couldn't pick up and let go of things.
Sin?
He didn't believe that the Nangong Zhangying didn't have any sin. How could a person who could create a monster like the Confucian Wind Sect be a righteous and noble gentleman who sacrificed himself for justice?
Wasn't it just "greed, resentment, deceit, murder, rape, and plunder are the seven things that I, the Confucian Wind Gentleman, mustn't do"? Who didn't know how to say beautiful words? Before Mo Weiyu died, he could have found someone to come up with some brilliant and admirable words to enlighten the world. He could have found a bootlicker to write a history book for him. The darkness of the past would be written off. From then on, he, the Emperor Ta, would be a sacred master who "cared for the common people and had great plans for the world in one fell swoop".
It was really wonderful.
There was no better ending than this.
"Greed, resentment, murder, rape, and plunder … is my … Confucian Wind Gentleman … seven … mustn't do …"
A faint murmur exploded in his ears like a clap of thunder.
Mo Ran abruptly pulled himself out from the swamp of memories. However, his eyes were still filled with chaotic sparks. He raised his head to look at Nangong Zhangying, whose chest had already been pierced through by Nangong Si's Cloud Piercing Arrow.
It was the same face as the jade sculpture from back then.
Someone cried out in alarm, "Nangong Si was injured to that extent. How could he pull the Cloud Piercing Bow?!"
"Was that bow prepared in advance?!"
"Look, there's spiritual energy attached to the bow … It's not Nangong Si's! It's, it's … "
No one said anything else.
But everyone was well aware.
It was Nangong Zhangying's.
The only person who could control the Cloud Piercing Divine Bow was Nangong Zhangying.
The last spiritual energy left by Nangong Zhangying was on the bow before he died.
The fire quickly spread and burned Nangong Zhangying's chest. The Cloud Piercing Arrow pierced his heart, and the fire instantly spread to his whole body.
But the corpse did not feel any pain. Nangong Zhangying's body looked so tall and straight in the fire. His face was so peaceful and calm, and even calm.
Mo Ran heard Xue Zhengyong murmur, "He expected this? Did … did he … did he foresee such a day? "
No …
It could not have been predicted. This was just a coincidence.
Mo Ran was stunned. His pupils twisted into two thin slits.
This was just a coincidence!
But how could he convince himself? The ability to break free from the control of the precious chess pieces, the broken meridians, the Cloud Piercing Divine Weapon that was buried in the Jiao Mountain, and the arrow that was filled with spiritual energy.
… If it was not carefully planned, how could it be to this extent?
He staggered a step back.
He used to think that they were the same. He used to think that all the legendary heroes in this world were born with a pair of hands that could cover the sky, that could wipe away the stains of their life, that could put on a clean shroud, leaving behind a field of pure white. He thought that Nangong Zhangying was the same as the Confucian Wind Sect, that they were all nothing more than appearances, that they were all evil beasts wearing human skin masks!
Was he wrong?
He looked at Nangong Zhangying who was wrapped in the brilliant fire. Hundreds of years ago, he was like him, an immortal who had amazing spiritual energy and the ability to penetrate the heaven and earth.
Was he wrong?!
Nothing could drown out the sins. No matter how dignified the official history was, there would always be flaws that could not be justified. Long tongues could never be stopped.
Nangong Zhangying was a kind person. He refused to be a tyrant and did not ascend. He used to think that it was just a disguise and disguise by the people at the peak of power.
Was he wrong?
Nothing could hide the truth, just like the snow that had been deposited for a winter would melt. After the vast whiteness faded away, the earth exposed the face of the crisscrossed ravines. All the dirt hidden in the wrinkles had nowhere to escape. When the sun shone, they all screamed in the daytime.
Was he … wrong?
Mo Ran slowly shook his head. He stared at Nangong Zhangying. Nangong Zhangying also raised his face. He was still covered by the black silk band embroidered with the soaring dragon. No one could see his eyes, not even Mo Ran.
However, Mo Ran did not know if it was his own illusion, but he felt that Nangong Zhangying seemed to be smiling. Under the black silk band, there were laughter lines. Fire could not burn them away, water could not wash them away. Nothing could hide the faint traces of laughter. He stood quietly in the sea of fire, in the warm light.
If he could, he also wanted to be selfish for once. He wanted to leave this broken body to accompany the green mountains and cypresses, and to be a hero in the future.
The world was too beautiful. No one wanted to leave.
However, he also knew that sometimes he had to leave, so he had already planned to break the scripture and hide the bow. He did not want his body to be used by others in the future.
The world was too beautiful. It was enough to have flowers. It should not be stained with blood.
"Sect Leader Tai …" Nangong Si held the Cloud Piercing Divine Bow and knelt on the ground. The light of the fire illuminated his young face, as well as the traces of tears on his face. "Junior is unworthy …"
The Cloud Piercing Fire burned away the precious black seeds in Nangong Zhangying's body. He was about to be burned to ashes. His whole body became fainter and fainter in the light of the fire.
Nangong Zhangying, who had completely regained his freedom, asked Nangong Si, "How many years has it been since the Confucian Wind Sect was established?"
He was only a corpse. His soul was no longer there.
There were not many memories and consciousness left in the body, so he could only ask such a simple question.
Nangong Si did not dare to be negligent. He answered with a choked voice, "The Confucian Wind Sect was established four hundred and twenty-one years ago."
Nangong Zhangying tilted his head. This time, even the corners of his mouth were smiling.
He said, "It's been a long time."
His voice was faint, like a cold wind passing through the mountain forest, dispersing without a trace.
"I originally thought that it would end in two hundred years." Nangong Zhangying's voice was gentle and broad, flowing through the grass on Jiao Mountain. "All things in the world have a lifespan. When their lifespan is up, no one can continue it. Besides, there will be a day when aging will be replaced by youth. There will be a day when the old will be replaced by a new one. Anything that is used for a long time will become dirty and old. Someone will throw it away and overturn it. This is a good thing. Si 'er, you don't need to blame yourself. "
Nangong Si suddenly raised his head. Because he had lost too much blood, his face was as white as a sheet of paper. His voice trembled slightly. "Sect Leader Tai!"
"Actually, how long the Confucian Wind Sect has existed does not depend on how many years it has been established or how many disciples it has." Nangong Zhangying's figure was almost fading away, and his voice was getting more and more distant. "It depends on whether there are still people in this world who remember that greed, hatred, deceit, murder, and plunder are the seven things that I, the Confucian Wind Gentleman, cannot do."
As he spoke, he gently waved his sleeve. In an instant, the grass on Jiao Mountain shook, and vines rose from all directions, sinking the corpses that were about to escape into the depths of the earth.
"Remember and do, the fire has been established."
After saying this, Nangong Zhangying's body suddenly broke into pieces in the raging fire, turning into specks of firefly powder. The golden-red starlight drifted in the vast mountain forest.
His body had disappeared, but his voice did not disperse.
Inside the enchantment, Nangong Si had long been sobbing. Outside the enchantment, Ye Wangxi knelt down. She knelt down. One after another, people knelt down. A lifetime of heroes, Immortal Nangong —
In life and in death, they were all heroes.