Chapter 630 - 623: Igniting a Fire for the Masses
Shangjing Prefecture.
As the capital of Donghua, Shangjing Prefecture remained temporarily stable for now. However, the once-bustling crowds of tourists on the streets had thinned considerably. A palpable sense of dread and panic was visible on the faces of the people walking by.
After all, Shanghai Prefecture was not that far from Shangjing Prefecture. The Rebellion unfolding there was impossible to conceal; news had spread like wildfire, triggering immense panic. It became the sole topic of conversation for countless people, discussed over meals and in their leisure time.
"It’s terrifying, absolutely terrifying. I heard Shanghai has truly fallen. The enemy was just a single person, apparently a high-ranking Celestial Demon. No one could stop him. They say the Guardian of Shanghai is already dead. Shanghai is in total chaos now."
"I heard that too. They say that Guardian was ranked among the top ten in all of Donghua in terms of individual power. A Human Form Nuclear Bomb, and he just died like that."
"With the breach in Shanghai opened and no way to seal it, more enemies will soon pour through. Donghua... is in danger."
"Individual power has too great an impact on war. Humanity simply can’t defeat the Celestial Demons. Look at how chaotic things are abroad. What do you think will become of this era?"
"It’s all because our Principal Zhou from Donghua fell. Sigh... I mean, if even humanity’s strongest warrior fell to a Celestial Demon attack, what hope do we have? We can’t beat them, we just can’t. Maybe we have to admit they’re a higher form of life than us?"
"If you ask me, when that day comes, maybe becoming a Demon wouldn’t be so bad. At least you’d stay alive."
"..."
Two figures, one large and one small, walked slowly along the now somewhat empty streets of Shangjing. Their exceptionally sharp hearing allowed them to clearly pick up every discussion from the street corners, teahouses, and restaurants.
"Senior Brother, can we... can we really not defeat the Celestial Demons? And are they truly superior to us?"
Wang Ze Kai, a thirteen or fourteen-year-old junior brother from the Holy Heart Sect, looked up and couldn’t help but ask Dong Wanming, who was walking beside him.
Dong Wanming didn’t speak. He led Wang Ze Kai forward, finally stopping in front of a tall building.
The National Museum.
"Senior Brother, what is this place?"
Wang Ze Kai didn’t understand why Dong Wanming had brought him here at a time like this.
"We’re looking for answers in the roots of this country, of this people."
Dong Wanming slowly stepped into the building, with Wang Ze Kai close behind.
Inside the National Museum, they walked step by step from barbarism to civilization, from the Stone Age to the Bronze Age, through the dynastic eras and into the modern age. The objects lying silently in their displays, accompanied by written descriptions, slowly recounted the truest history of this land.
"Humans are very complex creatures. We have obvious weaknesses. When faced with danger and oppression, we instinctively flee and fear. These emotions are contagious and can spread throughout our entire race."
"It’s the herd mentality. Humans are social creatures, so we are easily influenced by the group. In times like these, we become like a scattered flock of sheep. Even if we have the advantage in numbers and quality, a whole flock can be herded and driven by a single sheepdog."
"People tend to ignore things that don’t directly affect them, only thinking to resist when disaster is at their doorstep. Looking at the long river of history, humans are such weak creatures."
"However, human resilience and strength are beyond your imagination. Whenever the first sheep in the flock dares to resist, everything changes. They will erupt with a power you cannot possibly imagine."
Passages of history unfolded before Dong Wanming’s eyes—the most ancient leaders of this land, the chieftains of ancient tribes.
The You chao Clan building houses, Shennong tasting a hundred herbs, the Rites of Zhou spreading across the world, Confucius and Mencius, Laozi and Zhuangzi, the ancient sages spreading the Dao...
At every turning point in history, there have always been figures as dazzling as the midday sun, guiding the progress of human civilization.
Such figures exist within every nation, within every cultural identity.
They are the Saints and Sages, rare existences one is lucky to encounter even once, leading civilization to the next stage.
"Zhou Yuanjue was such an existence. Even if he has truly fallen, his light will shine through the ages, remembered by all humanity, because he ushered in a new era."
"But not everyone can be a Saint or a Sage, and not everyone can be Zhou Yuanjue. That is a fact."
"However, even if we are as humble as dust, we are not useless."
As the eras they walked through grew closer to the present, Dong Wanming saw more figures.
Countless nameless figures who, in times of civilizational crisis, when the flock was terrified, always stepped forward. Their power was weak, yet their defiance was world-shaking.
They were not the Saints and Sages who founded eternal legacies, nor the great men who could turn the tide of history. But with their own humble bodies, they awakened the dormant will of this land and ignited the flames in the hearts of the people.
Dong Wanming came to a halt before a statue.
It was the figure of a man standing on an execution platform. He wore a long queue, was bound in shackles, but his back was straight and his chest was high. He stared forward, fearless.
"In all nations, reform has been achieved only through bloodshed. Yet today in Donghua, we have not heard of anyone shedding blood for the sake of reform. This is why our nation does not prosper! If there is to be one, let it begin with me."
The powerful and resounding words that Mr. Tan had spoken on that execution platform so long ago echoed in Dong Wanming’s mind. He could almost see it: as hot blood splattered, below the platform, countless figures stood with their heads bowed, seemingly repressed, seemingly furious, but their eyes held an infinite light.
From that day forward, Donghua had no shortage of reformers who dared to shed blood, no shortage of youths who dared to bleed.
And yet, after a mere century of peace, in a society of material abundance, that passion and fire—once like the morning sun, like a fierce tiger, like a tidal wave—had gradually been worn away.
The blazing sun had fallen, and darkness covered the world.
In the wake of the terrible news of Zhou Yuanjue’s fall, faced with the nigh-invincible power of the Ancestral Incarnation, even those as mentally steadfast as a Saint Awakening could not help but feel negativity, terror, fear, avoidance, and self-doubt.
For a martial artist, if their Heart Intent softens, their fists become powerless. How then could they break through their limits and create miracles?
"Zhou Yuanjue pioneered a new era for humanity’s Martial Dao. I am not his equal. But I, your Senior Brother, still have a use for this weak body of mine."
Dong Wanming smiled and ruffled Wang Ze Kai’s hair.
"A century ago, there was a Mr. Tan who lit a fire for the people. Today, let me be the one to do it."
"How can we see a clear sky without shedding blood? Before, we were protected by a giant. Now, it is our time to bleed."
"There is only one Zhou Yuanjue in this world. But humanity is more than just Zhou Yuanjue."