Chapter 190: I Simply Do Not Wish to Judge
The Demon Lord gazed at him silently for a long time, then suddenly burst into laughter.
The gums revealed in his smile, set against his pale face, made Chen Changsheng think of the phrase “snow-white and blood-red.”
In the end, the Demon Lord offered no explanation, merely saying, “You only need to know that I was born and grew up on this continent.”
Chen Changsheng recalled the line Wang Zhice had written in his notes.
*—Position is relative.*
The Demon Lord’s meaning was clear: since he belonged to this side, he was not of that side.
This might sound like a pointless remark, but in truth, it was the most crucial declaration.
In the Demon Lord’s eyes, Chen Changsheng saw boundless ambition and a nearly sacred coldness, saw calm and detachment, but no trace of lies.
He was silent for a moment, then said, “Regarding the matter of the Holy Light Continent, I have some thoughts.”
A flicker of appreciation passed through the depths of the Demon Lord’s eyes, then swiftly turned to chill.
He understood Chen Changsheng’s meaning, because he too had thoughts on this matter.
It was precisely for this reason that he grew even more wary of Chen Changsheng.
No matter how cunning or invincible Shang Xingzhou, the White Emperor and his consort, the Black Robe, or the Demon Marshal might be, the Demon Lord did not care much.
He was still young, with ample time to grow, and because of his youth, he possessed certain traits that those old men had long since lost.
But now he faced Chen Changsheng, who was equally young, and he saw those same traits in him—a realization that stirred a faint unease within him.
Yet the time for a life-or-death confrontation had not yet come, for this conversation was not over; in fact, it had only just begun.
If, in the end, Chen Changsheng still could not give him an answer that satisfied, then they would discuss it further.
“Have you ever considered joining forces with me to accomplish something?”
The Demon Lord posed the truly important question of the day in a casual tone.
Chen Changsheng did not ponder long before giving his answer: “The hatred between our sides runs too deep. No one has the right to negotiate peace, nor even to entertain such a thought.”
The Demon Lord shook his head and said, “People like Tang the Second naturally have no such right, because they are subjects. To harbor such a thought would be to breed disloyalty. But we are different—we are sovereigns, the guides leading our people forward. Of course, we have the right to choose the path.”
Watching the snowflakes melt instantly upon landing on the teapot, Chen Changsheng recalled a conversation not long ago in the old Tang residence in Wenshui City.
That day, the snow had also been heavy, and the topic had been the same—not particularly silent, but bitingly cold.
What should the future of the continent look like? How should the three races coexist? Countless wise men and sages had pondered these questions.
The answer, though difficult to voice, was obvious to all: it should be peace.
But in that old Tang residence in Wenshui City, Old Master Tang had spoken words that made it clear such a thing was impossible, at least for now.
For the foreseeable centuries, it would remain impossible.
Thinking of the siege of Luoyang back then, Chen Changsheng said, “The demon race devours humans.”
The Demon Lord met his eyes and said, “I do not.”
Chen Changsheng replied, “Hatred does not vanish because of that. Your people will not forget the events of the Northern Expedition just because I never slaughtered their tribes.”
The Demon Lord said, “The demon race was able to forget the hatred of the past; why can’t the human race? In the end, it’s just a matter of time.”
Chen Changsheng said, “Perhaps many years from now, humans truly can forget the hatred of those days. But for now, it is difficult. Even I cannot do it.”
The Demon Lord raised an eyebrow slightly and said, “You never experienced my people’s southward invasion. The era you live in is the most glorious for the human race. I do not understand where your hatred comes from.”
“I have read many books, and many of them record the stories of those times. One story in particular has stayed with me.”
Chen Changsheng thought of the history of the previous dynasty he had seen in the National Academy’s library. He was silent for a moment, then continued, “Back then, the demon race invaded the south with a force like wildfire, and the human race happened to be in the midst of internal strife, utterly unable to resist. The divine general of the previous dynasty, Li Xunshou, led three thousand elite cavalry to defend Yongxue Pass, isolated and without support, yet he stubbornly held out for an entire year, until Chen Xuanba appeared.”
The Demon Lord’s eyes narrowed slightly, a glint of cold light flashing and then vanishing.
This famous siege was known to all on the continent, and it had sparked immense controversy that persisted even to this day. Even the debaters in Xuelao City often brought it up. What was Chen Changsheng’s intention in suddenly mentioning this matter?
“It wasn’t just holding out—it was a desperate defense…”
Chen Changsheng reached out, lifted the teapot from the stove, and poured himself a cup of tea.
Then he stared at the snowflakes melting into the teacup, silent for a long time.
Back then, at Yongxue Pass, such cold snow might have fallen every day. Did those soldiers and civilians have a cup of hot tea to drink?
Of course not, because there was no food left, the bark had been stripped from the trees—it was even worse than during the siege of Luoyang.
When Chen Xuanba led his cavalry to drive away the demon wolf riders and entered Yongxue Pass, what they saw was a scene straight out of hell.
Of the three thousand elite cavalry, fourteen hundred survived, but many of the city’s women and children had died, and it was said that many had been eaten.
The man who had cut down his own concubine and distributed her flesh to the soldiers was none other than Li Xun, who had been known for his benevolence.
This incident sparked immense controversy, and even now, a thousand years later, it was still debated endlessly.
Did those people back then ever know whether what they did was right or wrong?
Yongxue Pass had to be held, or else the demon wolf riders would have broken through and threatened the heartland of the human race.
Tianliang Commandery would have had no chance to catch its breath, and the human race could never have held out until the turning point that followed.
But was doing this right?
Even the scholars who most hated the demon race, even Chen Xuanba, who most revered Li Xun, could only remain silent on this question.
Still, most of those involved no longer needed to know the answer.
When the siege of Yongxue Pass was lifted, Li Xun committed suicide on the spot. From his deputy generals down to the lowest soldiers, that remaining thousand or so all died in battle one after another.
Chen Changsheng said to the Demon Lord, “I don’t know how to judge them. The demon race devours humans, and they devoured humans too—and they devoured their own kind. But if they hadn’t held Yongxue Pass? Even more people would have been devoured by you.”
The Demon Lord said, “So this is why you hate my divine race so much?”
“I didn’t make it clear earlier. This is not hatred.”
Chen Changsheng was silent for a moment, then said, “I simply want to ensure that such a tragedy never befalls the human race again, so that we never have to judge such a thing.”
His meaning was very clear.
If, in the future, such an unjudgeable tragedy were to occur again, he hoped it would happen on the demon race’s side, not the human race’s.