blogombal Chapter 119 Chaos in Bianjing, Eight Directions in Motion
Chapter 119 Chaos in Bianjing, Eight Directions in Motion
Chapter 119 Chaos in Bianjing, Moments of Turmoil
"Since we parted, I know not how far you are; the sight of you fills me with sorrow and grief. As you go further and further away, I receive no more letters; the waters are vast, the fish have sunk, where can I inquire?"
The wind rustles the bamboo in the deep night, a thousand leaves whispering a tale of autumn's melancholy. I knock on my pillow, searching in my dreams, but the dream fades and the lamp burns out.
"This poem is good. Who wrote it?"
"This is Ouyang Xiu's 'Jade Pavilion Spring' from the Song Dynasty—ah! Who are you? This is the Left Prime Minister's residence. If you cause trouble, my father will not let you off—uh!"
In the Left Prime Minister's residence, Wei Wu, disguised as Mordekaiser's father, utterly devoid of emotion, personally reunited every Jurchen he saw with their great-grandmother. The pressure that had accumulated over the past few days was instantly cleared away. It wasn't exactly relaxing, but it certainly felt incredibly satisfying!
The moon was high in the sky, its bright light illuminating the world, causing the stars to disappear. Wei Wu sat on a high building and could see that many fires had broken out in the city. Several arsonists were moving around the city like fleas, eventually converging on the location of the Left Prime Minister's residence.
Wei Wu had no subordinates and had not ordered anyone to set fire, yet the arsonists were rushing towards him, which piqued his curiosity somewhat.
Who comes here?
He made no attempt to conceal his presence, simply sitting under the moonlight, waiting for the person to arrive.
Meanwhile, the raging fire in the city alerted Wanyan Xun, who was discussing countermeasures in the palace. His pale face revealed the desolation and ferocity of an old wolf, and he roared angrily and fearfully, "This is outrageous! This is simply outrageous!"
Standing opposite Wanyan Xun was a Tantric monk dressed in a red robe and a tall yellow hat, shaking a prayer flag. He was completely unconcerned about Wanyan Xun's anger and said calmly, "Your Majesty, we cannot tolerate this any longer."
Of course I know I can't take it anymore!
The question is, how do we deal with this King of Hell?
Should we send troops into the city?
So, is he killing the King of Hell or killing me?
Wanyan Xun, devoid of any imperial dignity, paced back and forth like an ant on a hot pan, asking, "What did the Song Kingdom say?"
"They did not occupy those cities."
"No?" Wanyan Xun exclaimed, a mixture of surprise and disbelief. "The people of Song are actually such gentlemen." Perhaps we should stop the war with them and unite with them against the Mongols.
"Your Majesty, you are celebrating too soon," the Tibetan monk said, his aged face devoid of any joy. He paused, holding the prayer flag in his hand, and said, "They did not send anyone to take over the city because they organized a forced march, intending to strike at the heart of the enemy."
Wanyan Xun's face turned a deep shade of liver, and he said angrily, "Just because of one Wei Yanwang, my Great Jin has been bullied to the point of destruction?"
The Tibetan monk couldn't help but sigh, "What you sow, you will reap."
Wanyan Xun: "————"
He rose to power through rebellion, and after taking power, in order to prevent others from following suit, he paid even more attention to internal strife. Even when facing the Mongol invasion, he was determined to eliminate his allies, which led to repeated defeats.
Even when negotiating with the Mongols, he used a trick, directly moving the capital south to Bianjing, which angered the Mongols so much that they tore up the contract and continued the war.
He then accepted the suggestion of Zhu Hu Gaoqi to make up for the losses in the north by going to war with the Song state on the grounds that the Song state would no longer pay tribute. As a result, he was badly defeated and suffered heavy losses.
Fortunately, the people of Song lacked courage and did not take advantage of the situation to attack, which reassured him a lot, and he took the initiative to kill Zhu Hu Gao Qi.
But the result was that he became all alone. Now, only a few of the nobles in the city supported him out of respect for the Jin Dynasty. Most of the rest were considering whether to surrender to the Mongols in the north or to the Song Dynasty in the south!
This is also why he worried that once the army outside the city entered, their first action would be to make him, the emperor, "disappear unexpectedly."
The Tibetan monk slowly rose to his feet.
Wanyan Xun panicked slightly: "Where are you going?"
"If the palace doesn't send someone out to manage the situation after such a big commotion caused by outsiders in the city, it will only reveal the truth. At that time, both the north and the south will launch a fierce attack, adding to the already precarious situation of the Great Jin Dynasty."
The Tibetan monk was not tall. He may have been robust in the past, but now his muscles have atrophied, his back is hunched, and he looks only 1.6 meters tall. He walks with a shaky gait, as if a gust of wind could easily blow him away.
The hand holding the prayer flag was thin and long, with skin clinging tightly to the delicate bones, looking like a torch. The other hand was hidden under the robe, never exposed even when walking.
Around his neck hung a string of skull beads made from an infant's skull, and at his waist hung a drum painted with demons and monsters made of human skin. Two bone hammers made from human leg bones hung down from his waist, gently striking his legs as he walked, producing a dull sound along with the drum.
Wanyan Xun reached out Erkang's hand to stop him, but seeing his resolute departure, he could only grit his teeth and ask, "What if you go and never return—"
"Then I'll never return!"
The old monk smiled and answered with a strong and resonant tone, showing no trace of weariness.
But Wanyan Xun never disappointed; he continued, "Then what should I do?"
The old monk's smile vanished instantly, his wrinkled face turning ashen, and he said menacingly, "Then await your death."
After saying this, the old monk left the palace without looking back and headed towards the Left Prime Minister's residence.
Wei Wu sat on the roof ridge of the main hall of the Left Prime Minister's residence, making no attempt to conceal his presence. His bright eyes, like searchlights, scanned the people rushing towards him from all directions.
The largest group consisted of Mongolian experts, a group of more than twenty people dressed in various styles, including Arab, Indian, and Han Chinese, but the most numerous were sharpshooters in Mongolian attire and wrestlers with half their arms exposed.
Secondly, there were the masters of the Jin Kingdom's martial arts world, mostly Buddhist masters. Their bald heads reflected a cold, moonlit light, adding a touch of chilling killing intent to Wei Wu's smile.
That's really amazing!
Wei Wu didn't dislike monks, but he loved twisting off the heads of bald monks and kicking them like balls!
Not many martial arts masters from the Song Kingdom came over. Only the Beggars' Clan, led by Lu Youjiao, were scattered throughout the city. Taking advantage of the chaos caused by the Mongols' arson, the Beggars' Clan members took the opportunity to commit crimes, making the city increasingly chaotic. Chaos appeared in all four parts of the city, from east to west to north to south.
Huang Rong and Li Mochou were quietly staying in the courtyard when they suddenly heard the sound of the gate of the neighboring courtyard opening and closing. They got up and jumped onto the courtyard wall, where they saw Qiu Chuji, dressed in a Taoist robe and carrying a long sword, leading his disciples as he was about to push open the gate and come out.
Huang Rong asked, "Where is Master Qiu taking people?"
Li Mochou retorted, "You stinking old Taoist priest, the city is in chaos. You're still injured, what can you possibly do with these little Taoist priests?"
Qiu Chuji bowed deeply, his face filled with righteous indignation, his voice still booming like a great bell, "There is unrest in the city. We are not here to quell the rebellion, but only to save lives!"
"Those are all golden statues—"
"Han people are human, and Jurchen people are human too. The guilty ones are the nobles, not the innocent commoners. You two should stay at home and not go out easily. This old Taoist priest is off!"
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