Situ Yilan sighed in her heart and said goodbye to him. She led her horse and walked down the meadow.
The battle in the Seven Stockaded Villages had ended and the cleanup of the battlefield was basically completed. Now she was going to lead the cavalry into the grassland and follow Xu Chi's footsteps to make the final attack on the Golden Tribe.
The war was over, but the killing had just begun.
She hoped that the world would not give Ning Que such a chance again, but she had to continue killing.
She led her horse to the meadow and could not help but look back. She saw the sun was rising and Ning Que was standing in it. The edge of his body was glowing with a golden light, looking somewhat sacred.
If she had the chance to see the scene of Ye Su becoming a sage in the capital of the Kingdom of Song, she might have linked the two together. However, Ning Que was different from Ye Su. He stood in the light and became a shadow.
He was a little dim and not easy to see clearly.
Situ Yilan suddenly sympathized with him.
Hundreds of thousands of people died because of his words, but he was so calm and indifferent. Because he did not find Sangsang, he had no love or hate for the world. This kind of person was naturally the most terrible, but also the most pitiful. What was he living for?
The Tang army set off and the City of Wei became quiet again.
Without the isolation of array masters, the terrifying buzzing of countless mosquitoes and flies reverberated between heaven and earth like thunder. Occasionally, dark clouds would cover the sun, and under the clouds, hundreds of vultures would fly over while letting out unpleasant cries.
Ning Que did not care about these. He had never seen so many corpses and blood in his life. But he had seen too many horrible scenes like this, so many that he was tired of it.
He walked into the wilderness that was filled with the smell of blood. He looked down at the weeds that had been congealed by blood and the soil that had been congealed by blood. He pondered as he walked until he arrived in front of the Human Head Mountain.
He was pondering, not sighing, but carefully feeling the aura. The powerful blood sacrificing array of the national master of the Golden Tribe gave him some hints. It turned out that the power of the human world not only came from the living, but also from the dead. What should he do if he wanted to use this power?
Many footprints were left on the blood-soaked plains. Amidst the slapping sounds, the footprints accumulated a shallow amount of blood, a strong fishy smell, and a lot of resentment, until it formed a clear mark.
Ning Que walked in the Wilderness for three days and left many footprints.
If someone were to sit on the clouds and look down at the grassland, he would see a very complicated pattern, with the City of Wei as the center, the Human Head Mountain as the Achilles' heel, the dozens of miles of bloodstained wilderness as the curtain, and his footprints as the lines. It was so complicated that it was hard to imagine.
This pattern was an extremely complicated array, or in other words, an extremely large talisman.
Then he left the City of Wei and went to Kaiping. This time, he observed for a shorter period of time. He only walked for a day because he had become much more familiar with it. After that, he went to Qu City and went through all the seven strongholds. As a result, there was an extremely complicated blood formation outside each stronghold.
If the person looking down from the sky had flown a little higher, he should have been able to see that these seven complicated blood formations were like seven ink dots that formed a straight line.
The line was sloppy and random. It did not look like a complete stroke, but more like the beginning of a stroke.
The seven extremely complicated formations were just ink dots. The straight line formed by the seven formations was just the beginning of a stroke. Then how long would this stroke be if it was completed? How magnificent would it be?
Before Ning Que wrote this stroke, no one would ever know.
…
…
After arranging the seven formations, Ning Que returned to the City of Wei.
It was still quiet in the City of Wei. Only the Big Black Horse and the broken sedan were waiting for him.
The Big Black Horse walked to him without showing any joy of reunion, because it clearly felt Ning Que's exhaustion and sensed his true thoughts, so it lowered its head.
Ning Que reached out and gently stroked its neck.
It was not that he was comforting it, but that it was comforting him in this way.
Countless grassland people were killed, and their blood watered the grassland. Everything, including all the sins and notoriety, was just to write that stroke, to relieve his greatest uneasiness.
That faint fear and uneasiness were like whips that constantly whipped his body, causing waves of sharp pain in the depths of his soul, causing him to become more and more anxious.
He was in a hurry to leave the City of Wei and head south, because he could not find her in the City of Wei.
"I can't find her … The Abbey Dean, Eldest Brother, and the Drunkard probably haven't found her either. But I have to find her, so I want to ask for your help."
Ning Que looked at the black donkey in the broken sedan and earnestly asked for help.
The black donkey was silent for a while, subconsciously scratching the grapes on the plate with its front hooves. Even though it was arrogant and lazy, it was clear about the importance of this matter — its former master was killed by her.
An unpleasant quacking sound resounded in the field outside the City of Wei.
Ning Que finally felt a little relieved after getting the promise from the black donkey. He turned over and rode on the Big Black Horse. He gently squeezed the horse's abdomen, and with a cheerful neigh, black lightning reappeared between the heaven and the earth.
A straight line appeared on the field, pointing straight to the south.
The heaven and the earth were the grassland, and he was the wild horse, constantly searching.
…
…
Compared to the war in the northern grassland, the Central Plains was not peaceful either. Flames of war were raging everywhere.
The cavalrymen of the Divine Halls of West-Hill led by Long Qing, with the full cooperation of the Yan Kingdom, fought against the Tang army from the North Camp and went deep into the Wilderness, helping the remaining forces of the Left-Tent Palace to fight against the Desolate.
After the Divine Halls of West-Hill completely controlled the South Jin Kingdom, they ordered the army of the South Jin Kingdom to divide into two groups. Zhao Nanhai led the cavalrymen of the Divine Halls of West-Hill and the mighty army of the South Jin Kingdom, preparing to attack the Great River Kingdom on the other side of the river. The wind on both sides of the river became sharper. The old members of the Divine Hall of Judgment who were loyal to Ye Hongyu carried out bloody assassinations in the Divine Halls of West-Hill and the South Jin Kingdom, trying to slow down the coalition army's march to the south.
The real bloody battles did not take place on these battlefields, but in many inconspicuous places, such as an inconspicuous small county, a dilapidated Taoist temple in a town, a fishing village by the sea, or an iron mine by the Fuchun River in Qinghe Prefecture. These were the places where people died the most.
This was because the spread of the New Stream was rooted in poverty and anger, so it naturally started from these places. The Divine Halls of West-Hill's suppression of the New Stream was naturally carried out in these places.
After Ye Su's death, the New Stream was severely suppressed. But it did not take long before it regained its life with the secret support of the Tang Empire. It even felt like it was reborn from the fire.
Chen Pipi had left Chang 'an a long time ago. He inherited his Senior Brother's will and preached everywhere. He silently and firmly carried out the established policy, vowing to overthrow the old Taoism's rule over the world.
The disciples hidden in different places accepted Chen Pipi's leadership without any hesitation. They respected their master Ye Su as a saint and Chen Pipi as the Pope. They began to launch an all-out attack on the old world.
The spread of the New Stream was in full swing in the human world.
The suppression of the New Stream by the Divine Halls of West-Hill was as heavy as the mountains and the sea. They did not bestow any Divine Grace upon the New Stream.
There was a building in the government office of a small county that had been burnt black. It was said that it was set on fire by the thugs of the New Stream a few days ago. But the fire was a bit strange. It had not rained for many days and the air was extremely dry, but the fire did not spread. It only burned down a remote wing, where a pregnant maidservant lived.
Today, the county magistrate concluded the case with unimaginable efficiency. More than ten followers of the New Stream were escorted to the only Taoist temple in the county. In front of all the people in the county, they were put on the fire execution platform and burned into charred corpses in a moment. There was some fear in people's eyes, or no sympathy, but fear and anger.
They noticed that the eyes of the followers of the New Stream were filled with anger and despair. They opened their mouths in the fire but could not say a word! Many people knew the relationship between the maidservant and the county magistrate. And the uncle of the county magistrate's wife was a divine priest in the Taoist temple. The wife was very jealous …
In a fishing village by the East Sea, for the same ridiculous reason, more than twenty followers of the New Stream were tied to death by the men who were loyal to the patriarch and the deacons sent by the divine priest of the State City. Then they were tied with heavy stones … With a terrifying splash, the followers of the New Stream were thrown into the sea and turned into pitiful souls.
In front of a dilapidated Taoist temple in a small town, the Divine Priest, who was pushed against the wall by the crowd the day before yesterday and injured his forehead, looked at the angry people. His pale face was full of murderous intent, and his eyes were full of vicious flames. He shouted sternly, "Whoever dares not to pay will end up like these people!"
Seven armored cavalrymen of the Divine Halls of West-Hill stood at the stone steps of the Taoist temple indifferently. They looked down at the angry people who dared not to fight back. In front of their horses, there were more than ten dead bodies lying in a pool of blood.
Qinghe Prefecture seemed to be much more peaceful compared to those places that were full of bloodshed. There were many people here, especially the young people who were loyal to the late Tang Empire. The New Stream was secretly spreading. But at least it seemed peaceful on the surface. Maybe it was because Hengmu Liren and his army were here.
It did not mean that Hengmu Liren was merciful, nor did it mean that the people of Qinghe Prefecture had lost their courage in front of the allied army of more than a hundred thousand people. It was because the killings had started earlier and too much blood had been shed. That was why it was peaceful.
Many of the tens of thousands of miners in the iron mines by the Fuchun River were killed. Many of the followers of the New Stream in the City of Yangzhou and the suburbs were also killed. All in all, Hengmu Liren killed a lot of people.
There were many green trees on both sides of the straight road leading to the north outside of Yangzhou. It should have been lush and green in late spring and early summer. But it was not. Almost every tree had a dead body of a rebel hanging on it. The rotten smell made the green leaves fall one by one. It was a horrible scene.
The two banks of the Fuchun River were also shrouded in terror. Corpses hung from the beautiful bridges. Fresh blood and indescribable fluids flowed down from those stiff feet and into the river and creek. The once incomparably clear water that had nourished the people of Qing River for countless years had already turned the color of blood and was extremely pungent.
The beautiful and tranquil Qinghe Prefecture had become like this. The once bustling Yangzhou City was now filled with dead silence and depressing silence. Those nobles who could not forget their homeland from a thousand years ago and wanted to leave the Tang Empire, would they regret their decision when they saw the current scene?
Even if they did, there was nothing they could do.
Qinghe Prefecture had been completely controlled by the cavalrymen of the Divine Halls of West-Hill and the army of the South Jin Kingdom. Especially after Hengmu Liren showed his ruthlessness and unimaginable power, nobody dared to betray him.
A sacred sedan was moving slowly on the straight street in the City of Yangzhou. It stopped in front of the tranquil lake. Everyone who saw the sedan knelt down to show their reverence for Haotian. In the streets further away, more people closed their doors and windows as fast as they could, for fear of being seen.
Hengmu Liren stood calmly in layers of gauze. His childish face was filled with innocence. Even when he saw the dead bodies of the sinners pierced through by the wooden stakes, he remained calm.
He did not care about the bloody scene at all.
Because he was the one who created it.
He thought that since he was the son of Haotian, he had the right to rule the world. Anyone who dared to go against his will should die.
The wind blew gently and the gauze swayed slightly.
The faint scent of flowers mixed with the faint smell of blood passed through the gauze and reached his nose.
He took a deep breath. He looked innocent and intoxicated, so he looked cruel.
Maybe it was because of the chilly wind, or because he took a deep breath, he suddenly coughed. His pale face flushed and he seemed to be in pain.
…
…
(Have a good day at work tomorrow.)
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