"Master, back then, you had me go to the Lingyan Pavilion to read Lord Wang's notebook, saying that it contained a secret to defy the heavens and change fate, but I did not see it."
When Chen Changsheng said this to Shang Xingzhou, the atmosphere in the Mausoleum of Books became rather strange.
This was a secret that very few people knew.
Even after master and disciple fell out, this secret did not spread.
These words should have been said three years ago, but in Chen Changsheng's view, since all the conversations in Xining Village's old temple, including the passage of time itself, were just tricks, what meaning was there in asking such painful questions about the past? Moreover, he had obtained an extremely important Heavenly Tome Monolith in the Pavilion of Ascending Mist. He had seen many secrets in Wang Zhice's notebook, and he had gained many insights. This had brought him an extremely important assistance in his cultivation career, and had given him many warnings.
He continued, "In that notebook, I only saw the word 'eat people.'"
Wang Zhice's face revealed an expression of reminiscence, somewhat sorrowful, even sentimental.
Written in that notebook were all that he had seen and heard in those years, the truest history of the Great Zhou Dynasty before and after its founding.
The truest history was often the darkest.
The seemingly peaceful sounds of reading in the poor alleys masked the wretched cries of countless pleasure boats on the Luo River.
The seemingly dull life of the Imperial Court concealed countless glints and shadows of swords.
Wang Zhice had never mentioned the coup in the Hundred Herb Garden, but a few words that occasionally appeared already revealed the cruelty of that night.
In the end, the so-called golden age could only fulfill one person's wishes. The steps leading to the highest point were littered with bloody corpses. That period and the several hundred years that followed were filled with fratricide between father and son, fratricide between brothers, fratricide between husband and wife, fratricide between ruler and subject. Then … fratricide between master and disciple was naturally not something too exaggerated.
After a moment of silence, Chen Changsheng said, "I just don't understand why you don't do it yourself."
On that snowy night three years ago in the Orthodox Academy, he and Shang Xingzhou had discussed this question.
At the time, he had already given his answer. Bringing it up again was only because he wanted to vent his emotions.
Shang Xingzhou's temperament and Dao could be considered perfect. His only weakness was Chen Changsheng.
Because anything he did, even killing all the people of the capital, he could convince himself that he had a reason to do it.
But on the matter of Chen Changsheng, he could not convince himself.
The more it was so, the more he disliked Chen Chang Sheng.
Starting from Xining Village, starting from that old temple, starting from many years ago, it had been like this.
As time passed, this feeling became heavier and heavier. He also increasingly disliked the version of himself that disliked Chen Chang Sheng.
He didn't want to see Chen Chang Sheng.
In the end, he even wished that Chen Chang Sheng had never appeared in this world.
He didn't want to do it himself because that would only make his Dao Heart restless.
He hoped that Chen Chang Sheng would die at the hands of others.
Three years ago at the Tradition Academy, he said that as long as Chen Chang Sheng didn't return to the capital, he wouldn't do anything.
But in the end, he still couldn't resist the temptation.
Thus, Zhou Tong died, as did Chusu and the Great Western Continent's Mu.
Chen Chang Sheng didn't die in the Snowy Mountains and met with danger on Holy Maiden Peak.
"What we cultivate is the mind. In all things in the world, only the mind cannot be deceived."
Chen Chang Sheng asked confusedly, "If I die in the hands of others, can you convince yourself that it has nothing to do with you?"
Shang Xingzhou looked at him and said nothing.
Finally, Chen Chang Sheng said, "Please do it yourself. At the last moment, you might be able to see your own heart clearly. Don't you want to try?"
…
…
I want to try.
In the storm of Xunyang City, when facing Zhu Luo, Wang Po had said these words. In White Emperor City, when facing an opponent he could not defeat, Xuanyuan Po had said these words. Xu Yourong had said them, and Chen Chang Sheng had also said them.
Compared to Shang Xingzhou, they were still very young. They had enough time to try and had room for error. Perhaps it was precisely for this reason that when faced with a critical juncture where they needed to make a choice, they would be more courageous and direct.
Then, don't you want to try?
Shang Xingzhou calmly gazed at Chen Chang Sheng.
Chen Chang Sheng and Xu Yourong's performance today had truly been outstanding, worthy of his admiration. And there was also that child in the Imperial Palace. His silence was even more splendid.
However, these juniors still underestimated the meticulousness and terrifying magma-like power hidden behind his forbearance and silence.
Even if Wang Zhice was persuaded to stay out of this matter, he was still confident that he could control the situation in the capital.
There was no reason for him to agree to Chen Chang Sheng's request, but it was at this moment that he heard these words.
This was the drop of honeydew hanging from the stem of the stone wall. It was beautiful and pure, easily moving one's heart.
This made him recall many, many years ago, when he was still a young Daoist priest.
There was a Monastery of Eternal Spring in Luoyang. There were two young Daoist priests in the Monastery of Eternal Spring, called Shang and Yin.
At that time, they had not yet gone to the Li Palace Academy and the Orthodox Academy to seek the Dao.
Their master was naturally an extraordinary figure, but in the end, he silently died.
Those were truly troubled times. Luoyang was besieged for a very long time. The demons covered the mountains and plains outside the city, and the world was filled with a stench of blood.
They left Luoyang, accompanied by a youth surnamed Tang.
During that journey, they saw many tragic scenes, which had a great impact on each of them.
Ultimately, at a certain place, he stopped and said to the twilight that filled the mountains, "I still want to try."
He concealed his identity and became a disciple of Emperor Taizong, becoming acquainted with many extraordinary people.
Those people wore bright clothes and rode furiously, but he continued to stand in a gloomy corner, silent and inconspicuous.
No matter how glorious he became later on, he remained like this.
The demons had not yet been exterminated, so he could not relax for even a moment.
In the end, he got used to this kind of life, and even liked it.
His Majesty needed a person like him to assist him from the shadows in order to become His Majesty.
Other than a scant few people, no one else knew that he was the legitimate successor of the Orthodoxy, Shang Xingzhou. They only thought of him as Daoist Ji who could treat illnesses.
After he overthrew the Tianhai Divine Empress's rule, he disregarded the undercurrents of society and placed Zhou Tong in an important position. Besides the promise he had made, it was also because he did not feel that there was anything wrong with what Zhou Tong was doing. He had always done this for the past several centuries.
But he would occasionally feel some regret.
He was no longer a youth.
Shang Xingzhou gazed at Chen Changsheng, at his calm and determined eyes, at his clear features, and thought to himself, it's just this sort of youth.
Several centuries had passed, and now was no longer the miserable years when Luoyang was besieged and everyone ate each other. No matter what the outcome of today was, no matter whether there would be internal strife or not, the Human race would no longer need to worry about returning to those terrifying years, and people would no longer need to bitterly live.
Did this mean that he also no longer needed to bitterly live?
From now on, could he live a little more freely, a little more unbridled?
He calmly gazed at Chen Changsheng, then suddenly said, "Fine, let us try and see if we can end this story."
Emperor Xian was gravely ill and Tianhai had no intention of returning to politics, so he began to write this story.
The beginning of this story was that the continent covered in white sand, with the help of that existence on the other side of the sea of stars, bore a fruit.
So this story naturally had to end with the death of that fruit.
… …
… …
(Hold back the misunderstanding, look at me — the story of Choosing Heaven will not end.) (To be continued.)
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