From the residual spirits of the past, they emerged from the nine-section staff and slowly fell onto Wei Yuan's body. Outside of the Lying Tiger Decision, it was passed down from the great sage Zhang Jiao. Initially, it was the purest Taiping Dao method that reassembled, crossing the long years and transforming into a different Dao practice from the Lying Tiger.
The spirits scattered in the world, but those who consume the energy do not die.
Therefore, the Dao practice does not perish.
With the help of this strand of the pure Taiping Dao lineage, Wei Yuan's original second-level Lying Tiger Decision was directly elevated to its peak, ready to break through at any time. Then, as if it had been polished over many years, it gradually stabilized without any signs of unrest.
He sat quietly in front of the nine-section staff for a day and a night.
Only then did he slowly suppress the feeling of sadness, and after a long silence, he searched for the inheritance of the Taiping Dao.
Suddenly, he discovered that the Taiping Dao, which had declined and disappeared in this era, was actually listed as one of the orthodox Dao in ancient times. It eventually became one of the three major Dao traditions and one of the four auxiliary branches of Shen Zhou, an absolutely grand Dao that had never been lost.
Wei Yuan sat in a daze for a long time, feeling somewhat relieved in his heart. It seemed that at least he had not let the Taiping Dao be lost, nor had he failed the instructions of the great sage Zhang Jiao. He had left behind an inheritance in this world, making it one of the great Dao.
He just didn't know what had happened during the Song Dynasty.
As a part of the Taiping branch of Shen Zhou Dao Zang, it was unexpected that it had declined during this period.
Wei Yuan pondered for a while, and then began to search for the Battle of Guangzong on his phone. After typing these four words, he paused for a while before pressing the search button. With the help of modern technology, a large amount of information was retrieved and placed in front of him, most of which were related to the Yellow Turban Rebellion.
There was very little information about the Battle of Guangzong.
It was just the end of the Yellow Turban Army.
Wei Yuan saw that in the Battle of Guangzong, more than 30,000 Yellow Turban soldiers died in battle, and more than 50,000 drowned. General Zhang Liang was killed, and the original Yellow Turbans disappeared from Jizhou.
After that, Zhang Bao led the Yellow Turban Army and died in battle with over 100,000 people.
The real Yellow Turbans had disappeared.
But there were still disciples of the Taiping Dao fighting alone in various places.
There were also many bandits who took advantage of the name of the Yellow Turbans to burn, kill, and plunder.
In history, it was just a line of cold words, but for him, it was the real people who had lived through it.
Wei Yuan closed his eyes.
Thirty thousand people died in battle, those were the soldiers, but the more than 50,000 who drowned were not soldiers at all, but family members, wives, children, and the elderly.
Huang Fusong... showed no mercy.
Wei Yuan finally managed to suppress his emotions, but when he lowered his head and saw the line about Zhang Jiao being killed and his body being transported back to Luoyang, he still felt a dizzying sensation that could not be described in words, stirring his heart with a pain that was difficult to bear.
A surge of emotions, and even a hint of a bloody smell appeared in his mouth.
A kind of sorrow and pain from the past.
It turned out that there really was such a thing as coughing up blood from excessive grief.
At that moment, the Lying Tiger Waist Badge suddenly whistled and slowly lit up. Then, the last strands of spirits also scattered from the nine-section staff, and the two treasures intersected, creating the final fleeting scene—
Cao Mengde, once the Colonel-Director of the Imperial Guard.
...
After Zhang Jiao's death, Tang Zhou finally relaxed. Whether it was out of guilt or for other reasons, when he learned that the young Taoist who had shared his food and saved his life had died, and even Zhang Liang had been killed, he got drunk.
Soon after, an edict from the Emperor came, stating that Zhang Jiao was extremely guilty, and the Emperor ordered Huang Fusong to behead Zhang Jiao, pickle his head, and send it to the capital city of Luoyang, a thousand miles away.
The Han army found Zhang Jiao's coffin, dug it out, and prepared to behead him. After hearing about it, Tang Zhou, despite his hangover, hurried over. The young man in red, who had almost been shot in the forehead by an arrow, was guarding and overseeing the matter. Tang Zhou was still trembling with fear.
But thinking that Zhang Jiao's spirit would not rest in peace, he gathered his courage and, after exchanging pleasantries, asked the young man, "Do you know where the head of the bandit Zhang Jiao is?"
The young man in red, holding a horsewhip, pointed to a square box on the table and said with a smile, "Isn't it right here?"
Tang Zhou was overjoyed and asked again, "May I see the bandit's head?"
The young man in red raised his hand and said, "Please."
Tang Zhou leaned forward, still somewhat excited, but as the wooden box containing the head was within reach, he felt a sense of sadness. He remembered the harmless young Taoist he had met at first, but the smile on the young man's face was replaced by the colorful silk of a dancing girl. His hand no longer trembled as he opened the box.
The box was empty, there was nothing inside.
Tang Zhou's thoughts froze—
Where was the head?
Before he could ask, a flash of light appeared, and then Tang Zhou felt a sharp pain in his neck. His head fell off and landed in the box. The young man in red closed the box, wiped the blood off himself, and sneered, "This is the head."
"Can you be less brutal when you use your sword?"
The young man with the sword just grinned.
The young man in red handed the box to the young man next to him, indifferent. They were all heads, and in order to preserve them for a long time, they had to be pickled with lime. In the end, no one would be able to tell the difference. Although Zhang Jiao was just a bandit's head, he still felt uncomfortable with the idea of beheading and pickling. Moreover, the Emperor might not even care what this rebel looked like.
The young man with the sword said, "General Huang Fusong said that this great achievement should be credited to Minister Lu."
```"Only by doing so can we avoid his great crime, save him from trouble, and Mengde, do you agree?"
"Of course I agree."
"Why? Everyone is trying to make a name for themselves now."
The young man in red laughed heartily, pointing his whip forward and said:
"A few military rewards are nothing compared to the favor of Huangfu Song and Lu Zhi. It would be a great fortune. Besides, we come from prominent families and don't lack opportunities for promotion. What I seek is a great reputation, not the buying and selling of official titles!"
"A thousand years from now, all these loyal officials and generals will be gone, just a handful of dust. Who will remember them? But people will remember me, Cao Mengde!"
…………………………
Yuan was swept into the rushing water, exhausted and sad, and didn't know when he was washed up on level ground.
Several Han soldiers spotted him and, even though he no longer wore the yellow turban on his head, they instinctively judged him to be someone who had come downstream from Guangzong City and prepared to kill him. But the leader of the soldiers suddenly recognized the pair of new grass shoes on the young man's feet from when he was a wandering knight in Zhuo County. He had once met a big brother who was a member of the Liu clan and a disciple of Lu Zhi, the governor of Jiujang. When he was young and poor, he had woven mats and sold shoes to make a living, and the shoes had a unique knot, which should have been made by him. This should be an acquaintance of his, not a yellow turban bandit.
Upon hearing Lu Zhi's name, the Han soldiers reluctantly put away their hostility.
The leader of the soldiers took out his military token, tore a piece of cloth and wrote a document similar to a proof that this person was not a yellow turban bandit, stamped it with his own seal, and handed over some food to Yuan, letting him find a safe place on his own.
The young man knew that Zhang Liang and Niu Shu had already passed away. Even though he knew he couldn't easily throw his life away, he still felt lost in great sorrow. He wanted to seek refuge with his martial uncle Zhang Bao, but on the way, he learned that his martial uncle had also chosen to fight to the death against the Han soldiers and had ultimately died in battle.
He became a traveling doctor, treating people and silently searching for someone who could bear the Taiping Heavenly Book and open an era of peace and benevolence. But he found nothing. That winter, he encountered a family, and while treating the old man's illness, he heard the familiar word "Sili." His movements couldn't help but pause.
It turned out that the old man was saying that they were descendants of Zhu Ge Feng, who had served as the Colonel-Director of Retainers during the reign of Emperor Yuan of the Western Han Dynasty. This time, they had no choice but to seek refuge with them during the year of disaster.
The old man looked at Yuan and, seeing the young man's weakness, although he was mature and silent, he had medical skills and took pity on the weak child, saying, "If you don't mind, why not come with us to seek refuge with my distant relative?"
Thinking of his teacher's dying wish, the young man nodded and hoarsely said, "I don't know where to go."
The old man was surprised that he spoke and smiled, saying, "Liangya Yangdu."
That year, in the winter of the first year of Zhongping.
The last flames of the Yellow Turbans were swept away by the chaotic times, carrying the Heavenly Book to the land of Liangya.
That year, there was a three-year-old child in Liangya. His father was serving as an official outside, and his mother had passed away that year.
………………
The scene in front of Wei Yuan slowly dissipated, and the power of the Nine-Section Staff had already dissipated. What it had recorded from Yuan's past could no longer appear. Wei Yuan remained silent for a long time, reaching out to stroke the Nine-Section Staff. He knew that his self from that era did not die with the Yellow Turbans, so where were the remaining memories?
He thought of the Taiping Art of Peace, said to have been written by Zhang Jiao himself.
At this moment, someone knocked on the door, and Wei Yuan's thoughts slowly returned. Lin Li's voice sounded outside, "Master Wei? Master Wei, are you okay?"
"You haven't eaten anything for three days."
Wei Yuan slowly got up, naturally holding the Nine-Section Staff in one hand, and walked towards the door. Lin Li was worried outside, and the old man from the Lin family was also curious at the moment, wondering why Master Wei hadn't eaten or drunk for three days.
As Lin Li was about to knock on the door, the door was pulled open from the inside.
She was stunned, and the old man beside her was also slightly dazed. They saw a young man in modern clothing walking out of the darkness, holding the Nine-Section Staff in one hand. He seemed to have no sense of incongruity, as if he really wielded the weapon, with a harmonious aura.
For a moment, it was as if they saw a young Taoist priest in coarse robes, transcending time, with clear and bright eyes.
But in an instant, this illusion disappeared.
He was still the young man with short hair, dressed in modern black clothes.
But the old man from the Lin family still had a feeling of uncertainty in his heart. After all, the Nine-Section Staff was a weapon that could rival the Dragon and Tiger Swords, with its own spirit, unlike ordinary treasures. After learning the purpose of the visit, Wei Yuan handed over the Nine-Section Staff and said softly, "Treat it well."
The old man nodded and took it, feeling a slight pain in his palm.
He glanced at Wei Yuan and didn't say much.
After Lin Li mentioned the Taoist priests of the Taiping Dao, she suddenly remembered her friend Zhou Yi had hoped to recruit this museum owner into the special operations team.But he was declined by the latter with the reason of 'hoping to live an ordinary life', and couldn't help but lower his head, quietly sticking out his tongue. It seemed that he had said the wrong thing. He originally wanted to take the opportunity to say that he didn't want to get involved in this matter, but he heard the young museum curator say, "Alright."
"Curator, don't you want to par..."
Lin Li widened his eyes and subconsciously looked at the other person.
Huh? He agreed?!
Has this curator changed his mind?!
................
Wei Yuan bid farewell to the two people from the Shangqing Sect with different expressions, and then sat alone in the quiet room. He thought of his past choices, when he first came into contact with the truth of this world, he was a little afraid and didn't want to get involved in the dangerous transcendent world. Now, thinking back, that initial thought had long since dissipated, because...
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He looked at the bustling city outside the window, silent for a long time, with a gentle and soft expression.
Creating the future and protecting this era is 'our' responsibility, isn't it, Teacher, Uncle Liu, Yu...
But in the end, I will still choose to be alone.
Faces flashed before his eyes.
Finally, he raised his cup.
In the end, he was just drinking tea alone.
PS: The first update, 3800 words, a little late, sorry.
Thank you to the leader of Cz, thank you~ And the second update today may be a little less, I have to push the next plot, thank you for liking it, I can only work hard to write this book well, hoping to live up to everyone's expectations.
In fact, the core of this book comes from an occasional idea of mine.
If an ordinary person in modern society, who is not bad, has a sense of justice, but also values his own life and is unwilling to take risks, what kind of person will he be shaped into accompanying the journey of generations of heroes...
"Town Demon Museum" Source: