Chapter 52: Why Don’t You Just Die?
Earlier, Xu Yourong had said that Wang Zhice was senile.
At the time, her words had stirred an uproar both inside and outside the Mausoleum of Books. Even the southern cultivators who had followed her felt somewhat displeased.
Now, as she repeated those same words, the Mausoleum of Books fell into utter silence.
The situation had shifted dramatically. Anyone could tell that her statement was meant to coordinate with Chen Changsheng.
When Chen Changsheng appeared, Wang Zhice hadn’t spoken to him first. Instead, he had exchanged pleasantries with Zhu Sha.
That phrase, “Long time no see,” carried too many hidden implications.
If it was a gambit to establish dominance, its momentum was as imposing as a cold mountain.
If it was a psychological attack, it left no trace to follow.
For anyone, countering such a tactic would be extremely difficult.
Chen Changsheng’s chosen method was to sever its source.
He stepped in front of the black-clad girl and told Wang Zhice that was not her name.
She could be called Hongzhuang, or Zhi Zhi, or the dragon clan name that, when translated into human language, spanned thousands of syllables.
In short, she was not Zhu Sha.
Even if she had once gone by that name.
Because this was no longer those days.
She was not beneath the North New Bridge; she was by his side.
The Mausoleum of Books was silent inside and out.
If Xu Yourong’s lack of courtesy toward Wang Zhice didn’t clash too much with the impression she had left on the world over the past decade,
Chen Changsheng’s display of such toughness toward Wang Zhice caught many by surprise.
Why?
Back at Cold Mountain, when Chen Changsheng saw Wang Zhice descending on a cloud, it was like a cultivator seeing a true starry sky for the first time.
Like the vast majority of people in the world, he had regarded Wang Zhice as an idol.
Today, Wang Zhice stood opposite him and Xu Yourong, yet the reverence Chen Changsheng held for this legendary figure had not diminished.
Until Wang Zhice spoke that sentence.
The little black dragon began to feel fear.
Seeing her pale little face and the smile on Wang Zhice’s face, Chen Changsheng suddenly felt very angry.
He couldn’t precisely articulate what kind of emotion this was, but in any case, he began to rage.
In a very short time, the sense of awe in his heart faded considerably, and he grew much calmer.
As for Xu Yourong, from her attitude toward Wang Zhice, it was clear that aside from the Great Path, she feared nothing.
And so, the pressure Wang Zhice had created with one sentence was resisted by Chen Changsheng and Xu Yourong with two sentences.
Wang Zhice smiled faintly, about to say something more.
But Chen Changsheng looked elsewhere.
The words Wang Zhice wanted to say never left his mouth.
His expression grew several degrees more solemn.
Chen Changsheng didn’t look at his own teacher; instead, he looked at Xu Yourong.
They gazed at each other quietly, and understood each other’s intentions.
Because their hearts had always been naturally connected, like a rainbow spanning two lands.
A sword strike was also like a rainbow.
At the Holy Maiden Peak, when they had wielded their swords together, a rainbow had once appeared between them.
Chen Changsheng said, “I know you’ve been to the Hundred Herbs Garden. I’ve been there too.”
Xu Yourong replied, “When I was young, Her Holiness taught me that in great matters, one must have a calm mind. I just wanted to find some peace.”
Chen Changsheng said, “I don’t want to become like my teacher, and I don’t want you to become like Her Holiness.”
Hearing this, Wang Zhice and the girls of the Southern Stream Sect looked toward Shang Xingzhou within the sword formation.
Shang Xingzhou gazed at the gray sky, his expression indifferent, lost in thought, paying no heed to those present.
Xu Yourong said, “Have you ever considered that maybe I do want to become someone like Her Holiness?”
Chen Changsheng looked at her seriously and said, “No, because I know you don’t like that kind of life.”
He knew she loved standing by cliffs, admiring snow, listening to rain, gathering herbs, and reading books.
Xu Yourong smiled faintly and sighed, “I know you’re not fond of this kind of life either.”
She knew that since childhood, he had been accustomed to guarding temples, sweeping snow, sheltering from rain, taking medicine, and reading books.
As for scheming, backstabbing, deception, cold-blooded slaughter, and chilling threats…
Neither of them liked doing such things, but the times demanded it, and they had no choice.
Moreover, they understood each other too well. Knowing the other disliked it, they didn’t want the other to do it, so each wanted to take it on themselves.
Xu Yourong struck first with her sword; Chen Changsheng followed.
One sword to the east, one to the west.
The strikes were unintentional, but deliberate.
They didn’t coordinate deliberately, yet in the end, they came together.
Only a true union of twin swords could yield such tacit understanding, giving a sense of effortless perfection.
Xu Yourong trapped Shang Xingzhou at the Mausoleum of Books, holding the princes at bay.
Chen Changsheng led the forces of the Orthodoxy like a flood, sweeping across the land.
The final result was flawless.
The old faction of the state religion had been purged, the capital was firmly in hand, and with just one decree from the palace, Shang Xingzhou might truly be defeated.
Xu Yourong didn’t need to become a second Heavenly Sea Holy Empress, and Chen Changsheng didn’t need to go against his heart and slaughter far and wide.
If Wang Zhice hadn’t appeared.
Chen Changsheng looked at Wang Zhice and said, “I had always hoped I wouldn’t see you here.”
Wang Zhice replied, “I had also hoped I wouldn’t see you here.”
Chen Changsheng said, “I am the Pope; there’s no reason for me not to be here. And you?”
Wang Zhice said, “For the sake of the common people of the world, I had no choice but to come.”
Chen Changsheng believed this.
He had met Old Master Tang in Wenshui City and understood the true thoughts of these old men.
These elders from the Taizong era were true idealists. For the sake of their so-called goals and righteousness, for the four words “common people of the world,” they could sacrifice many things—like the little black dragon, like reputation, like countless lives, or even something more important.
Chen Changsheng wanted to say this was wrong, but he knew saying so would be meaningless.
He said to Wang Zhice, “It seems we have at least one consensus: the common people of the world are the most important thing.”
Wang Zhice said, “Yes, though the common people may not realize it themselves.”
Chen Changsheng said, “So, to spare the common people from the scourge of war and the suffering of displacement, you’ve traveled thousands of miles to urge us to yield.”
Wang Zhice said, “Correct.”
Chen Changsheng looked at him and asked, “Then why don’t you yield?”
That was an excellent question.
Shang Xingzhou gazed at the distant sky, a faint, inscrutable smile on his lips.
Wang Zhice seemed lost in thought.
If leading humanity forward required strong will, boldness, and excellent execution,
then what Xu Yourong and Chen Changsheng had done today had proven they could become outstanding leaders.
Shang Xingzhou acknowledged this, and Wang Zhice had to as well.
The current crisis stemmed from the standoff between the two sides.
With one misstep, it would mean months of war, destroying the hard-won gains of humanity.
Those princes and the court’s experts had entered the Mausoleum of Books.
The strong from the southern sects had also emerged from the forests.
Wang Po had come too, standing in the distance with his sword in hand.
Several voices, either harsh or angry, rang out.
Chen Changsheng didn’t listen closely, but some words still drifted into his ears.
There was no retreat; to retreat meant death.
And so, Chen Changsheng raised another question.
In the years to come, this question would become very famous.
“If the common people of the world are truly so important, then why can’t you die for them?”
His expression was very earnest, his eyes bright and clear, like a mirror.
Because he wasn’t mocking the other party, nor was he angrily accusing them—he genuinely couldn’t understand.
Wang Zhice looked into his eyes and suddenly found himself unable to answer this question.