Tonight, this sort of situation had already occurred several times.
When Zhu Ye and the others arrived by the lake and realized that the master of the Cinnabar Pill was Chen Changsheng, they had also let out a similar sigh.
In the snowy mountains, Zhu Ye's feet had been severed by the zither music. As he gazed at the starry sky and waited for death, he gloomily sighed.
At this moment, Chen Changsheng looked at the middle-aged scholar and couldn't help but sigh.
The gap between the two sides was too great. Even if one used all their methods, exhausted all their intelligence, even shed their blood, they would still be unable to reverse the situation.
They would naturally be unwilling, but they would also be helpless to the extreme. All sorts of emotions intertwined, ultimately transforming into a soft sigh.
Chen Changsheng was both shocked and confused. Everyone said that the abyss was endless, so why was he still alive and standing before him?
As he thought of these things, he silently glanced at Hai Di.
From the moment he heard that clear and cold zither note, Hai Di had turned his head and made no further movements. His gaze had always been fixed in the direction of the zither note, the place where the middle-aged scholar was standing.
This demon personage was currently very stiff, both in body and mind, but Chen Changsheng was sure that he knew that Chen Changsheng had glanced at him.
This glance was a question.
Should we work together?
… …
… …
The humans and demons had fought for many years, both sides suffering grievous casualties and a deep grudge. This was especially true after the agreement between Emperor Taizong and the Demon Lord was torn apart one thousand years ago. Unless there were some extreme circumstances, like the unforgettable hatred of the Liang clan being slaughtered or the old matter of Zhou Dufu, the experts of the two sides never worked together again. Shang Xingzhou had secretly presided over the coup of the Mausoleum of Books and had only maintained a tacit agreement with the important personages of Xuelao City not to interfere with each other. They would never directly borrow strength from each other.
No one could endure a thousand years of infamy.
If Chen Changsheng wanted to work together with Hai Di, he did not need to worry about this problem, because the identity of the middle-aged scholar would make the entire continent agree with his actions.
Moreover, there was a certain possibility that Hai Di would agree to work together with him.
More than two years ago, after the rebellion in Xuelao City, the Demon Lord had died, Nanke had disappeared, and countless imperial ministers loyal to the old government had been executed, but Hai Di had survived, his reputation even greater than before. He now held the important authority of the Demon Army on the front lines. No matter how one looked at it, he was assuredly one of the rebels.
If he wanted to survive tonight, he had to team up with Chen Chang Sheng.
The allure of killing Chen Changsheng, the Pope of the Human race, was truly immense, but to Hai Di, killing the middle-aged scholar was clearly more important than anything else in the world.
Hai Di did not respond to Chen Changsheng's questioning gaze. He continued to stare at the middle-aged scholar, wary and fearful, his hand gripping the broken monolith very tightly.
The dilapidated garden was very quiet. Everyone present knew very well what this silence meant.
Nanke's eyes became colder and colder. The color of the wings that slowly swayed in the night wind became darker and darker, appearing more and more bewitching.
At this moment, the middle-aged scholar's voice rang out.
"I'm dying."
His voice was unusual.
He was indifferent, dignified, and supreme. There was nothing special about him.
But if one were to look closely at his face, one would notice something very unusual.
The middle-aged scholar's face seemed to be forever shrouded in a faint layer of darkness.
In the darkness, countless embroidered characters glowed with golden light slowly fluttered in the air. Below the embroidered characters was a painting of mountains and rivers, at one moment a desert, at another a blue sea. As his brows and lips moved, the blue sea would surge and the desert would rush. The scenery was incomparably vivid, yet it was also abnormally cold and desolate, because there was not a single person in this myriad scenery.
And when he said 'I'm dying,' the great thousand worlds also grew much dimmer, as if they would soon return to silence.
Thus, Chen Changsheng knew that he was speaking the truth.
He recalled that many years ago in the Bureau of Ecclesiastic Education, in that room filled with all sorts of plum blossoms, he had heard Mei Lisha say something similar.
More than two years ago, he couldn't remember if it was in the Li Palace or the Orthodox Academy, but he had also heard his martial uncle the Pope say these words.
He thought it over, then said to the middle-aged scholar, "As long as one lives, one will die."
The middle-aged scholar replied, "The fourth wondrous sentence of the Essay on the Origin of the Dao."
Chen Changsheng did not ask what the first three wondrous sentences were, because every person who studied the Daoist Canon would have their own understanding and comprehension. Of course, he would also not be shocked that this scholar had so easily recognized that this sentence came from the Essay on the Origin of the Dao. Because the entire world knew that this person was extremely knowledgeable, the most extraordinary scholar of Xuelao City after Tungus.
"But who would truly be willing to die? Like Tianhai, or Yin, or those old friends from even earlier. No matter how calm they appeared, how could they be willing to obediently walk into that darkness? I was even less willing, so I crawled out from that terrifying darkness and came here to see you. "
As he slowly spoke, the darkness on the middle-aged scholar's face grew darker and darker, making it harder and harder for one to look directly at him.
Zhizhi heard the tone of his voice and vaguely guessed at his identity. She did not dare to believe it, and her voice began to tremble.
"You … just what does Sir want to do?"
"Your father once said that you didn't like to study, that you had a simple and foolish personality. Tonight, it seems to be true."
The middle-aged scholar had a gentle expression as he spoke to her like a senior. "Relax, for the sake of your father, I naturally won't make things difficult for you."
Through these words, Zhizhi confirmed his identity. She was so shocked that she couldn't speak. She subconsciously turned to Chen Changsheng, her eyes filled with confusion and helplessness.
Countless years ago, a mighty Black Frost Dragon did not want to inherit the position of leader of the Dragon race and journeyed to the continent.
On the continent, it encountered many equally mighty existences, and then it died in the Garden of Zhou.
That was her father.
Of those mighty existences, only one was her father's friend, or perhaps it was better to say that her father only admired that one.
With the passage of time, the Great Zhou had changed several emperors, the Mount Li Sword Sect had changed three Sect Masters, and the Tang clan had changed its head twice. Only that person forever sat at the highest point of the Divine Palace. As a result, many ordinary people had the mistaken belief that since ancient times, in the entire world, the Demon race had only had one … the Demon Lord.
Yes, the middle-aged scholar was the Demon Lord.
He was the most powerful and most talented sovereign in the history of Xuelao City, the emperor that the Demon race prostrated themselves to, and the enemy that the Human race feared the most.
If not for the fact that countless geniuses had suddenly appeared in the Human race at the beginning of his reign, the Demon race would have long ago occupied the entire continent under his leadership.
But whether it was Zhou Dufu, Chen Xuanba, Emperor Taizong, or Wang Zhice of one thousand years ago, or Tianhai, Yin, and Shang of one thousand years later, none of them could truly defeat him.
Even when facing the human experts that surged forth like a sea of stars, he still led the Demon race to stand firm on the northern continent, just like the eternal darkness over Xuelao City.
From every angle, he was the mightiest Demon Lord of his generation.
Whether it was since ancient times, or in the heavens above and the earth below.
… …
… …
(Don't respectfully walk into that darkness. Of course, it comes from that poem. Interstellar travel is so good because of that poem. It's the complete opposite of the last point. Nolan needed to make a conclusion that everyone could accept, which I find extremely regrettable. I thought that this sort of attitude was the sharpest and most powerful.)
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