The human world a thousand years ago was very different from what it was now. At that time, it was very chaotic and there were very few people. Only those who could cultivate were qualified to live like humans. Those who could not were like dogs. As for the Divine Halls of West-Hill, it was the Divine Kingdom on earth, a heaven that had nothing to do with the mortal world.
It was not until the Headmaster established the Tang Empire and taught the world that the situation changed. The Divine Halls of West-Hill were forced to look at the mortal world. Cultivators could no longer enslave mortals like before, and the cultivation world could no longer be as superior as before. As a result, there were more and more people in the human world.
That was the reason why there was a sage every thousand years.
After the Headmaster left the human world, many things changed again. No one could stop the cultivators from ruling the world again, at least outside of Chang 'an.
A few years ago, Liu Yiqing entered the palace alone and killed the emperor of the South Jin Kingdom. That was the proof of this change. A new era had come, and he was the first one to lift the curtain.
The human world had lost its protector, and the rules began to collapse. The new era would become primitive and bloody again, and everyone would have the chance to use their own power to speak their own truth.
The powerful were the masters of this new world. Liu Yiqing was a powerful cultivator, and the enemies he faced tonight were also powerful cultivators who had the right to speak. He only hoped that it would be faster.
So he did not look at Zhao Sishou. Although the skinny priest was a powerful cultivator in the Knowing Destiny State from the South Sea and was the son of Zhao Nanhai, he was not a real match for him.
Liu Yiqing looked at the night and said, "Then, come on."
The night was as quiet as water. The voice did not sound, and no one came out.
Zhao Sishou's face was a bit pale, and his wrinkles were full of unwillingness. But he did not make a move, because he heard footsteps coming from the imperial city.
Everyone around the imperial city heard the footsteps.
The footsteps were steady and rhythmic. The shoes on the feet were not made of leather, but cotton. The sound was a bit dull, like the sound of wood breaking.
A young man walked out of the imperial city.
The light from the fire made the ground as bright as day, and also made the shadow of the youth abnormally clear, but it was impossible to see his face clearly, only that he was wearing an old green robe, the edge of the green robe embroidered with brand new golden thread.
In the West-Hill Divine Palace, only red-robed priests were qualified to embroider with golden thread. What was puzzling was that the lad was not wearing a red robe. His green robe had been washed so many times that it had turned white. He looked like a manservant.
It was probably because he was used to being a servant.
Liu Yiqing tilted his head and quietly listened to the footsteps. His grip on the hilt of his sword loosened and tightened at times. There seemed to be some sort of rhythm that matched the footsteps, or perhaps they were fighting.
As he walked, the sound of metal rubbing against each other could be heard behind him. Thirteen slender sabers slowly emerged from their scabbards and appeared in everyone's line of sight.
The knives were like flower petals, and he stood in the middle of them.
He stopped and raised his head to look at the night sky. Because of this action, the firelight illuminated his cheeks. His ordinary eyebrows and eyes were clearly illuminated, and his face was somewhat pale.
Similarly pale, the young emperor of the South Jin Kingdom on the city wall looked pale and timid, but there was a kind of fearful madness in his pale face.
Other than the flower formed by the sabers behind him, he was holding a big golden flower in his hand. He looked at the golden flower with a devout and fanatical expression, as if there was an extremely hot flame in his eyes.
He reached out to pluck the flower petals and murmured, "Die, don't die, die, don't die …"
After plucking a petal, he said "die," after plucking another petal, he said "don't die." After the last petal left the stem and fell to the ground, he said "die."
The lad was happy, as naive as a child. His cheeks became even paler. He looked at Liu Yiqing on the sedan and said in a trembling voice, "You're going to die tonight."
His voice was trembling because he was nervous. He had never really fought before, but he was not afraid, because he knew that he would never lose in Haotian's world.
Liu Yiqing did not say anything. He knew clearly that no matter how the lad counted, he would die in the end. Even though he could not see, he knew who the lad was.
People around the imperial city also knew who the lad was, including the young emperor of the South Jin Kingdom. They were all excited, but remained silent out of awe.
In the late spring, in the Grand Competition of the Divine Halls of West-Hill, a manservant in indigo won the first place. He did not have a master. A few months ago, he could not even cultivate. But a spring rain made him enter the Knowing Destiny State. No one, including the Hierarch of the Divine Halls of West-Hill, knew the limit of his potential or his actual state. His appearance was like a miracle.
In the eyes of the followers of Haotian, he was the real genius of Taoism. Neither Ye Su nor the rumored Chen Pipi could be compared with this lad.
Because he was the gift left by Haotian to the human world.
His name was Hengmu Liren. He used to be a manservant in indigo who chopped firewood in the Revelation Institute. Now he was a red-robed divine priest of the Divine Halls of West-Hill.
Liu Yiqing asked, "How are you going to kill me?"
Hengmu Liren said, "I will use a knife."
Liu Yiqing asked, "What knife?"
Hengmu Liren said, "A chopper."
His thirteen knives were all thin knives, suitable for killing but not for chopping firewood. But he insisted on calling them choppers. Maybe it was because he had been chopping firewood for many years or for some other reason.
Liu Yiqing shook his head and said, "You are much weaker than him."
The people around the imperial city maintained absolute silence, so the conversation between the two was clearly transmitted to everyone's ears, but no one could understand it.
You are much weaker than him?
Who is he?
Hengmu Liren knew who Liu Yiqing was talking about. His eyes were burning and he shouted, "No one can defeat me. Not you, not him!"
Liu Yiqing touched the sheath beside him and said, "You are very proud."
Hengmu Liren said, "Because I am confident."
Liu Yiqing looked at him through the white cloth and said, "People of our generation never express their confidence with words or expressions. We are used to drawing our swords when we meet."
Hengmu Liren did not look young because of his long years of hard work and exposure to wind and sun. But his expression was still innocent and his smile was cruel.
"That man cut you into a blind man. Tonight I will cut you into a dead man. When I meet him in a few days, I will cut him into a blind man first. That is a wish for you."
"I have never had such a wish." Liu Yiqing said, "Because I know very well that no matter how hard I try, I can never be more powerful than him. Neither can you."
Hengmu Liren said, "You seem to have a lot of confidence in him."
Liu Yiqing looked at him and said with pity, "If you meet him, you will die. It is a simple truth. But you are too naive and arrogant to understand it."
He looked into the night and said, "That man must understand it. But obviously, he did not warn you. It seems that not many people in the Divine Halls like you."
…
…
But after a long period of serious consideration, I've decided not to publish it for the time being. I'll use a year or two to revise it before publishing it. This matter has to be done sooner or later. It's better to do it earlier than later. My predecessors have already learned a painful lesson. Also, the China Writers' Association is holding a youth conference in Beijing. After thinking about it, I think it's better for me to stay at home. After all, recuperation is the most important thing. Also, I'm not too sure. Is a 36-year-old considered a young writer? I'm just kidding. I'll participate again in the future. I'd like to express my gratitude here.)
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