bookbashuk Chapter 27 Peace
Chapter 27 Peace
Zhang Jiao was now completely exhausted and on his last legs.
Unlike Lu Tangzhi twenty-five years ago, Zhang Jiao now has no essence or blood left in his body, like a tangle of burnt-out firewood, which cannot be saved by a few bowls of talisman water.
This is the price of using the nine-section staff, and also the price of the Yellow Turban Rebellion.
Under Zhang Jiao's cloudy eyes, Yi Chuan accepted the nine-section staff.
In an instant, Zhang Jiao's last remaining breath collapsed.
After Zhang Jiao's aura collapsed, the nine-section staff emitted a hazy dark light, which reflected the crescent moon on the back of Yi Chuan's hand. In just an instant, the half-circle crescent moon mark was filled, and Yi Chuan's aura surged all the way up.
Zhang Jiao was too weak to speak. He glanced calmly at Yi Chuan, then sat down on the ground facing south and closed his eyes.
The heavens have not died, nor has the yellow heavens ever arrived.
In this world, the displaced remain displaced, the powerful remain powerful, and those who cannot survive will still not survive.
"In the first year of the Jiazi year of the Zhongping era of the Great Han Dynasty, the Lou constellation was in charge of the day, bringing great fortune to the world."
Yi Chuan raised his head, his gaze piercing through the six-colored clouds to look at the three stars in the night sky.
If the three stars of Lou are bright, then it is auspicious to raise an army and gather troops, bringing great fortune to the world.
But they grew dimmer and dimmer.
The fate of the Han Dynasty remains, and that cannot be changed by a single individual.
"Twenty-five years have passed, it's time for me to go back."
Yi Chuan sat down next to Zhang Jiao, patted him on the shoulder, and looked up at the south.
"But how can I refuse?"
Yi Chuan's expression carried a hint of helplessness. He slowly gripped the nine-section staff, raised it, and faced Luoyang to the south. The crescent moon on the back of his hand flickered as if issuing a warning.
The moment he raised the nine-section staff, the sky above the entire city of Guangzong was filled with turbulent winds and clouds.
The six-colored auspicious clouds that covered the night sky like a canopy continued to swirl and shrink.
The sky over Guangzong City turned dark again.
Zhao Hong and the others stared wide-eyed outside Zhang Jiao's tent.
He witnessed a scene he would never forget.
It was as if six shimmering rivers of light were hanging down from the sky, heavy, cold, scorching, and chilling... rushing into the camp like six angry dragons in the night.
In contrast, Yi Chuan's aura became increasingly terrifying.
That was the vast primordial energy he had cultivated for twenty-five years, the morning glow, the bright sun, the flying spring, the sludge, the celestial mystery, the earth's yellow, the six energies rotating, so magnificent and dazzling that it was unimaginable.
Yi Chuan had a feeling that even if that Celestial Master were to emerge from the clay statue now, he would be no match for him now.
But it's not enough.
The next moment, Yi Chuan's body became transparent, and the crescent moon mark was flashing urgently.
Then, the light and energy of the past twenty-five years surged into the nine-section staff, causing the entire tent to lose its radiance, and even Yi Chuan's figure to dim.
"We've suffered a huge loss this time."
Yi Chuan sighed, a hint of heartache in his voice.
He took Zhang Jiao's lifeless hand and held the nine-section staff together.
"Who told you to chop me up in Lutangzhi twenty-five years ago...?"
The staff fell.
The morning glow, the rising sun, the cascading spring, the stagnant dew, the celestial mystery, the earthly yellow—the magnificent energy of the past twenty-five years was instantly drained away.
boom!
In an instant, the sky collapsed and the earth cracked, mountains roared and seas surged. The tens of thousands of Han troops stationed outside Guangzong City were stunned and dizzy, and Huangfu Song almost fell to the ground.
At that moment, a deafening roar echoed in the ears of all forty million people in the Han Dynasty.
The 13 provinces and 105 counties of the Han Dynasty all felt the tremors at the same time.
In the perception of all cultivators, the enormous creature that had been hovering above Luoyang instantly shattered into three parts, scattering in all directions.
However, that was no longer relevant to Yi Chuan. He wearily lowered his nine-section staff and looked at the white-haired Great Teacher beside him.
"Peace will eventually come."
The next moment, Yi Chuan's body began to become transparent, the crescent mark flickered, and then collapsed into a point of light, flying out of the tent at a speed exceeding the speed of light.
After striking with his staff, the exhausted Yi Chuan gradually fell asleep.
In his dream, he flew lightly, over the war-torn Han people, over mountains and oceans, over flowers, grass and trees, drifting aimlessly, not knowing why.
……
Zhao Hong entered through the altar outside the tent.
The Heavenly General who had brought him out of prison and said he would become the hope of the world was now sitting facing south, his chest no longer rising and falling.
His body, blown by the wind outside the tent, his white hair fluttering, swayed unsteadily.
As a shooting star streaked across the night sky, Zhao Hong gazed at the Heavenly General who had raised him. This was the first time he hadn't seen that convincing smile and all-knowing eyes on this body.
Large tears rolled down Zhao Hongda's large, moist eyes.
The wind rushed into the tent, and the old body fell down lightly.
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In October of the first year of the Zhongping era of the Han Dynasty, Huangfu Song led 40,000 troops in a fierce battle against Zhang Liang, the younger brother of Zhang Jiao, at Guangzong. He defeated the enemy and killed Zhang Liang and more than 30,000 Yellow Turban soldiers. Zhao Hong led the remaining troops to escape.
At the end of October in the first year of the Zhongping era of the Han Dynasty, Zhu Jun, together with Xu Qiu, the governor of Jingzhou, and Qin Jie, led 18,000 troops to besiege Zhao Hong, who was killed.
In November of the first year of the Zhongping era of the Han Dynasty, Huangfu Song and Guo Dian, the governor of Julu, attacked and captured Quyang, successfully killing Zhang Bao and annihilating more than 100,000 Yellow Turban soldiers, thus ending the Yellow Turban Rebellion.
In the second year of the Zhongping era of the Han Dynasty, Liu Yan, the governor of Yizhou, sent Zhang Lu, the son of the late Master Zhang Heng, to Ba Commandery to persuade Zhang Xiu, the "rice bandit," to surrender and to establish Zhang Xiu as a separate commander.
In the fifth year of Jian'an in the Han Dynasty, Zhang Lu attacked and killed Zhang Xiu, annexed his followers, and established his own regime in Hanzhong, where he officially spread the Five Pecks of Rice sect.
At this time, heroes from all over the world were vying for power, and the glorious Han Dynasty, which had lasted for four hundred years, was coming to an end.
Yangping Mountain in Sichuan.
As the sun sets, Yangpingzhi is overgrown with weeds and its halls are in ruins. After Zhang Lu gradually moved the core of the Five Pecks of Rice sect to the Twenty-Fourth Prefecture, the once glorious prefecture of Yangping Mountain was only visited by hunters from the foot of the mountain.
Sixty years have passed since the passing of the Celestial Master Zhang Heng, and there are no more Taoist practitioners on Yangping Mountain.
In the mountains and forests, a slightly dirty white cat darted through the trees and streams, evading the hunter's pursuit.
The Prime Minister of the Han Dynasty heard that there was a white cat in Yangping Mountain that had lived for sixty years. He took it as an auspicious sign and offered a large reward for the cat's life.
The hunter only knew that this white cat had been traveling back and forth in Yangping Mountain since its ancestors, and faced with the temptation of a large sum of money, he went into the mountain to hunt it down.
The white cat cautiously crawled into the half-collapsed Chongxu Hall, glanced at the clay statue inside that looked like it had been hollowed out by some wild beast, and made a gurgling sound in its throat.
Outside Chongxu Hall, the rustling sound of hunters trampling grass could be heard again.
Sensing the threat, the white cat arched its back, hesitated for a moment, and then dashed towards the back mountain of Yangping like a white lightning bolt...
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The 21st century.
Sichuan, Baiyun Mountain.
Yi Chuan groggily got up from the ground of Baiyun Palace, and it took him a long time to gradually adjust to his body.
Looking up at the still rusty statue, Yi Chuan walked out of the hall.
The moonlight was bright, and the wind rustled through the pine trees.
Yi Chuan stood at the entrance of Baiyun Palace, the night wind blowing his Taoist robe, his gaze unfocused for a long time.
Suddenly, a burst of urgent commotion arose outside the temple. Yi Chuan opened the temple gate and was met by a large group of villagers carrying flashlights and buckets of water.
After a long period of blank stare, Yi Chuan's eyes finally focused on two tall women among the villagers.
I remember now, that's Liu Yingying, and that's her colleague. They're from the town's Taoist Association, and they were the ones who wanted to shut down and take over Baiyun Temple.
"Chuanzi, are you alright? There was such a big red light on the mountain just now! I thought the temple was on fire!"
Village Chief Huang, panting heavily, was carrying a flashlight. At his age and in his physical condition, carrying buckets of water and climbing the mountain in the middle of the night was almost costing him his life.
After a moment of surprise, Yi Chuan smiled and said, "It's nothing. I was chanting scriptures in the hall just now and didn't see any red light."
"Are you really alright?"
Liu Yingying's strange colleague suddenly stood up, looked at Yi Chuan with a strange expression, and then pointed to her own nose.
Yi Chuan wiped his face with his right hand and realized that his nose was bleeding.
Song Ling, a PhD in History and Folklore from Sichuan University, quickly focused her gaze on Yi Chuan's left hand, her eyes filled with some surprise and uncertainty.
"Master...where did you get this wooden staff?"
"what?"
Belatedly realizing what was happening, Yi Chuan raised his left hand in a daze.
He had been clutching the wooden staff tightly in his hand ever since he woke up.
The wooden staff has nine sections, is entirely blue, and appears to be made of bamboo. The top of the staff is gilded, and the bamboo sections are encased in copper hoops, giving it an ancient and profound feel.
Under the cover of night, a flash of dark light appeared on the wooden staff and disappeared.