Chapter 1121: The Era of the Young
(Thanks to reader 12****29 from the book city for the reminder. Regarding whether it's the Imperial Territory Map or the Imperial Chariot Map, that was entirely a mistake I made in this volume. I sincerely apologize. The past year or so has been... *covers forehead*, truly exhausting, mentally speaking. Also, I only just realized today that I even forgot about Wang Po losing an arm. That was deliberately written in the beginning. Everyone knows we were pursuing the aesthetic of the One-Armed Saber King. Well, I'm not sure if there are other particularly wrong parts in the previous text, but I'll apologize for all of them here. *Covers face again*, this time covering my face.)
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Tang Thirty-Six did not leave with Chen Changsheng and Xu Yourong.
He stood in front of the National Academy's gate, watching the dense crowd recede like an ebbing tide.
Baihua Lane quickly returned to its usual calm.
Su Moyu led the instructors and students of the National Academy back in succession.
Looking at the now-ruined Maple Pavilion, the collapsed walls, the chaotic woods, and the clear traces of battle, imagining the earth-shattering fight that had just taken place, everyone's emotions were inevitably mixed, feeling as if they were in a dream.
Of course, it was a beautiful dream, because the current National Academy was aligned with the Orthodoxy.
Su Moyu paid no attention to the instructors' and students' unsettled feelings, nor did he rush to arrange repairs. Instead, he was more concerned about something else.
"Is everything alright?"
He stared into Tang Thirty-Six's eyes and asked, "I saw his eyes were terribly red."
The 'he' in this sentence naturally referred to Chen Changsheng. Su Moyu was worried that his injuries might be too severe.
Tang Thirty-Six spread his hands, speechless, thinking, Do I have to tell you that Chen Changsheng and the Emperor cried in each other's arms?
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In the quiet side hall, water flowed into the pond, making a tinkling sound. A water ladle drifted aimlessly on the surface, like an unmanned boat at a desolate ferry.
Wang Zhice's gaze left the pond and looked out of the hall.
It wasn't dark yet. Sunlight fell, making the scenery very clear, but he didn't see Wu Daozi.
There was a streak of white between heaven and earth, very holy, like snow or a lotus flower. That was Xu Yourong.
She stood before the main hall of the Radiant Temple, tilting her head and peering inside, looking very cute.
Linghai Zhiwang and the others accompanied her, silent, preparing for battle.
This scene had appeared once before, several years ago.
At that time, Chen Changsheng had returned from the Han Mountains, severely injured, and had spoken with the Pope in that quiet hall.
Xu Yourong had been ready to strike at any moment then.
Today, it was clear she was also ready to strike at any moment.
Even though the person sitting opposite Chen Changsheng today was Wang Zhice.
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In the National Academy, when Chen Changsheng was about to be cut down by Shang Xingzhou's sword, Xu Yourong had to intervene but was stopped by Wang Zhice.
But Wang Zhice greatly admired her response at the time. If he wasn't mistaken, that should have been the Tianxia Xi Shen Zhi (Finger of the World's Stream).
"What I admire most is that she didn't devote all her time and energy to Big Brother's saber technique. You're the same."
Wang Zhice's words were very sincere.
Because he knew very well how terrifying that saber technique called Liang Duan (Two Cuts) was.
Not just because he was Zhou Dufu's sworn brother—that was common knowledge across the continent, already recorded in history.
Didn't Chen Changsheng and Xu Yourong know? Of course, they did.
That year, when he and Wang Po walked by the Luo River, they had displayed Zhou Dufu's saber intent, and Wang Po had used it to break through his realm, cutting down Nan Tie with one slash.
Now, the Liang Duan Saber Manual was in the hands of him and Xu Yourong.
Possessing the Liang Duan Saber Manual meant inheriting Zhou Dufu's legacy, likely becoming the second strongest under the starry sky!
If it were any other cultivator, who could resist such temptation?
They would surely practice the saber manual day and night, spending all their time, even their entire lives, on it.
But Chen Changsheng didn't do that, and neither did Xu Yourong. Apart from a period of joint study at the Mausoleum of Heavenly Books, they never met specifically to cultivate the Liang Duan Saber Manual, and they often even forgot about it.
"The Liang Duan Saber Manual is too harsh and fierce. It feels somewhat uncomfortable."
That was the explanation Chen Changsheng gave to Wang Zhice.
He thought for a moment and added, "Besides, we have our own Daoist methods, which are also very good."
This answer was calm, born from confidence.
This was what Wang Zhice admired most, and also what he couldn't understand.
From the Mausoleum of Heavenly Books to the Sword Pool to the Zhou Garden, so many miraculous encounters had failed to change Chen Changsheng's state of mind.
Who else could casually tie a Heavenly Book Stele, like a stone bead, around their wrist?
He and Xu Yourong were so young. Where did their confidence come from, allowing them to face the world with such calm and composure?
"This world is yours, and it is also ours, but in the end, it will be yours."
Wang Zhice looked at him and said, "I originally thought you were still young, that you could wait for us to grow old, and didn't need to take such risks."
Chen Changsheng understood that he was explaining why he had accepted Shang Xingzhou's invitation and appeared in the capital.
He didn't know what to say.
Because the person explaining to him was Wang Zhice.
This fact was indeed enough to make one feel lost and at a loss.
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Xu Yourong turned and looked towards the black eaves deep within the cluster of halls.
Confirming that the conversation in the quiet hall was going smoothly, she naturally wouldn't break through the stone wall and unleash the Phoenix Fire. Linghai Zhiwang and the others also dispersed.
At that moment, she heard Wang Zhice's words, of course, also because Wang Zhice wanted her to hear them.
Those words made her brows lift, like flames ready to scorch the sky.
A figure caught her eye.
"It seems your fighting spirit hasn't completely disappeared."
Mo Yu looked at her and said with a smile, "After all these years, you're still so fond of fighting."
Except for those who grew up with her, like Chen Liu Wang and Ping Guo, few knew Xu Yourong's true nature.
Xu Yourong looked at her and said, "In your eyes, all I see is dissatisfaction."
"We made countless preparations, and they all came to nothing. It's hard not to feel a bit unsettled."
Mo Yu shrugged as she spoke, looking particularly unconcerned.
Such a simple sentence, yet it concealed who knows how much bloodshed and turmoil.
If not for Chen Changsheng's seemingly naive and foolish arrangements, the capital might have run with rivers of blood today.
"Your little man is indeed not bad."
Mo Yu sighed. "But Lord Wang is a pity."
Xu Yourong sneered and said, "You really think he's like the one in the books?"
Back then, in the palace, she was still young, and Mo Yu was already a young girl. When they read books, she had a crush on Wang Zhice countless times.
There were too many such young girls in the world. In their imagination, Lord Wang must have lived above the clouds, eating dew.
If they actually saw him, they would know that such a celestial being didn't exist.
He was just an old man who compromised, was somewhat pitiful, and even boring.
Just as Mo Yu and Xu Yourong were discussing Wang Zhice.
Wang Zhice heard a sentence.
That sentence was a response to his earlier explanation.
Very tough, and direct.
"Since this world is destined to be ours, why don't you step back? Must the young always wait?"
"If we wait too long, we'll become boring old people like you."
"Wouldn't this world always be your world?"
It wasn't Chen Changsheng, nor Tang Thirty-Six.
The speaker was Linghai Zhiwang.
Wang Zhice glanced at him and recognized him as a High Priest.
So-called pillars of the state religion, they wouldn't even be in his eyes.
But one thing caught his eye and was hard to ignore.
Linghai Zhiwang was very young.
Among the pillars of the state religion, he was the youngest.
Tang Thirty-Six had once said that.
Youth is justice.
Wang Zhice thought for a moment and said, "That makes sense."
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A carriage drove out of the Orthodoxy.
The worn-out, somewhat shabby wheels ground against the hard bluestone of the square, making an unpleasant screeching sound.
The bloodstains on the bluestone had long been washed clean.
Wu Daozi's angry shouts kept coming from inside the carriage.
"I'll kill you all!"
"You bunch of bastards, how dare you treat me like this!"
No one responded to Wu Daozi's curses.
Not a single person. The area had long been cleared.
This was the respect shown by the Orthodoxy.
Linghai Zhiwang stood under the eaves, watching the carriage receding into the distance, his expression very calm.
An Hua stood beside him, thinking about what he had done today, listening to these curses, his face pale, his expression at a loss.
Wu Daozi's anger came from defeat, but also because he hadn't felt respected in the Orthodoxy.
According to common sense, regardless of victory or defeat, an elder of his generation should have been respected.
Especially since he represented Wang Zhice.
But there was none.
From Chen Changsheng to Xu Yourong, from Linghai Zhiwang to An Hua, and then to Wang Po and Mo Yu outside, none of them had shown this attitude.
Perhaps, this represented the end of an era.
That era.
Wu Daozi was angry, or rather, deeply disappointed.
But Wang Zhice was very calm, even gratified.
Because today, he had felt a kind of power.
A power that was once very familiar but had gradually faded away after the founding of the Great Zhou Dynasty.
That power was somewhat rough, easy to displease, lacking rules, yet it possessed a very vibrant vitality, very moving.
A thousand years ago, the world was in chaos. The court collapsed, the demons marched south, the people had no means to live, and bones littered the roads.
Then, wildflowers bloomed.
Zhou Dufu, Chen Xuanba, Li Jiexing, Shang Xingzhou, the Chu King, Ding Zhongshan, Li Mier, Qin Zhong, Yu Gong, those on the Lingyan Pavilion, and him.
They were all very young back then. But who had they revered? Who had they feared?
So, that era hadn't ended.
Now, it was still that era.
The era of the young.