Chapter 502 The Sadness of the Past

The remnants of a True Spirit from the past emerged from the Nine-Section Staff and slowly descended upon Wei Yuan. Outside the Crouching Tiger Formula, the purest Taoism of the Taiping Dao (Way of Great Peace), passed down by the Great Teacher Zhang Jiao, reassembled. Transcending the long years, it transformed into a different kind of Dao cultivation, separate from the Crouching Tiger.

True Spirits are scattered throughout the world, but those who consume qi do not die.

Therefore, Dao cultivation is indestructible.

With the help of this strand of direct lineage Taiping Dao cultivation, Wei Yuan's original second-level Crouching Tiger Formula directly reached its peak and could break through at any time. Then, as if it had been tempered over a long period, it gradually stabilized without the slightest turbulence.

He sat quietly in front of the Nine-Section Staff for a full day and night.

Only then did he slowly gather his sorrowful emotions. After a long silence, he searched for the Taiping Dao's heritage.

Suddenly, he discovered that the Taiping Dao, which had declined and disappeared in this era, was actually listed as a righteous Great Dao in ancient times. It eventually became the Taiping Department, one of the Three Caves and Four Supplements, in the pantheon of China, an absolutely magnificent Great Dao that had never been lost.

Wei Yuan sat blankly for a long time, feeling slightly relieved. It seemed that at least he had not allowed the Taiping Dao to be lost, and had not failed the Great Teacher's instructions. He had left a legacy in this world, allowing it to become one of the Great Daos.

He just didn't know what happened in the Song Dynasty.

The Taiping Department, as one of the Three Caves and Four Supplements of the China Daoist Canon, had actually declined in this period.

Wei Yuan pondered slightly and remained silent for a long time. He began to search for the Battle of Guangzong on his phone. After typing these four words, his movements paused for a long time before he pressed the search button. With the power of modern technology, a large amount of information was mobilized and placed before him, most of which was about the Yellow Turban Rebellion.

Very little information was 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 Turbans died in battle, and more than 50,000 drowned themselves. General of the People, Zhang Liang, was killed in battle. The Jizhou (ancient province) branch, the original Yellow Turbans, disappeared.

After that, the Yellow Turban Army led by Zhang Bao died with a hundred thousand soldiers.

The real Yellow Turbans disappeared.

However, there were still Taiping Dao disciples fighting alone in various places.

There were also many thieves who used the name of the Yellow Turbans to burn, kill, and loot.

In history, they were just lines of cold text, but to him, they were people who had truly lived.

Wei Yuan closed his eyes.

Thirty thousand people died in battle, that was the rearguard, and the more than fifty thousand who drowned themselves were not soldiers at all, but family members, wives, children, and the elderly.

Huangfu Song… was merciless.

Wei Yuan finally managed to suppress his emotions, but when he lowered his head and saw the line that after the Battle of Guangzong, Zhang Jiao's coffin was broken open and his corpse was mutilated, and his head was sent back to the capital, he still felt a dizzy spell, and an indescribable stabbing pain stirred his heart.

Surging and rolling, there was even a bloody taste in his mouth.

A kind of past sorrow and pain.

It turned out that there really was such a thing as coughing blood and harming the spirit due to excessive grief.

At this time, the Crouching Tiger waist tag suddenly whistled and slowly lit up. Then, the last strands of the True Spirit from the Nine-Section Staff dissipated, and the two treasures intertwined, conjuring up the final, brief image—

Cao Mengde, once served as Sili Xiaowei (Inspector of the Capital Region).

…………

Tang Zhou finally felt relieved after Zhang Jiao's death. Whether it was out of guilt or for other reasons, after he learned that the young Daoist who had shared his food with him and saved his life was dead, and even Zhang Liang had been killed, he got drunk.

Immediately afterward, an imperial decree came down from Emperor Ling, stating that Zhang Jiao's crimes were heinous, and the emperor wanted Huangfu Song to behead Zhang Jiao.

The head was to be pickled, rushed to the capital city of Luoyang, and displayed for thousands of miles.

The Han army discovered Zhang Jiao's coffin and dug it out to behead him. After hearing this, Tang Zhou ignored his hangover headache and rushed over. The guards and those responsible for this matter were the young man in red, holding a horsewhip, full of vigor. Tang Zhou still had lingering fears from the time he was almost pierced in the forehead by an arrow.

However, thinking that he would not be at ease until Zhang Jiao was dead, he still mustered his courage, exchanged a few polite words, and then asked the young man, "I don't know where the bandit Zhang Jiao's head is?"

The young man in red held a horsewhip in one hand, 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, "I wonder if Zhou can take a look at the bandit's head?"

The young man in red smiled and raised his hand, saying, "Please."

Tang Zhou stepped forward. He was still a little excited at first, but as the wooden box containing the head came closer, he felt a little sad. He recalled the harmless smiling young Daoist he had first met. But in the end, the young man's smile was replaced by the swirling colorful silk of the dancers. His palms no longer trembled, and he opened the box.

The wooden box was empty, with nothing inside.

Tang Zhou's thoughts froze—

Where's the head?

Before he could ask, a flash of a blade erupted. Immediately, Tang Zhou only felt a pain in his neck, and his head fell down, landing right in the box. The young man in red closed the box, patted the blood off his body, and mocked:

"This is the head."

"Yuan Rang, could you be a little less crude when you draw your blade?"

The young man holding the blade just grinned.

The young man in red handed the box to the young man next to him, not caring. They were all heads, and to preserve them for a long time, they had to be pickled with lime. No one would be able to tell the difference at that time. Although Zhang Jiao was just a bandit leader, he still felt that things like mutilating corpses and beheading were unpleasant.

Moreover, His Majesty may not care what this rebel looks like.

The young man holding the blade said, "General Huangfu Song said that this great achievement should be given to Minister Lu."

"Only in this way can he be spared his great crime and rescued from his predicament. Mengde, did you agree?"

"Of course, I agreed."

"...Why? Everyone in the world is trying to get ahead."

The young man in red had a triumphant expression on his face. He pointed forward with his horsewhip and laughed loudly:

"A mere military merit and reward, if it can be exchanged for the favor of Huangfu Song and Lu Zhi, wouldn't that be great fortune? Besides, you and I come from great clans and do not lack opportunities for promotion. What I seek is great fame, not the matter of selling official positions!"

"Thousands of years later, these famous ministers and generals will all be dead, just a handful of yellow earth. Who will remember them? But the world will call me Cao Mengde!"

…………………………

Yuan was swept into the rapid current, exhausted and sad, and didn't know when he was washed onto a flat ground.

Several Han soldiers discovered him. Even though he no longer had the yellow turban on his head, they instinctively judged that he was someone who had floated down from Guangzong City. Just as they were about to kill him, the leading junior officer suddenly saw that the pair of newly woven straw sandals on the young man's feet looked familiar. He quickly stopped the Han soldiers and said:

"When I was a wandering knight in Zhuojun, I once met an older brother, a member of the Liu clan, who was a disciple of Lu Zhi, the prefect of Jiujiang. When he was young and poor, he used to weave mats and sell shoes for a living. There is a coiled knot on these shoes, which should have been made by him. This should be an old friend of his, not a Yellow Turban bandit."

When the Han soldiers heard the name Lu Zhi, they barely suppressed their hostility.

The junior officer took out his military talisman, casually tore a piece of cloth and wrote a document similar to proving that this person was not a Yellow Turban bandit, and pressed his mark on it. He took out some food and gave it to A'Yuan, telling him to go to a more stable place.

The young man knew that Zhang Liang and Uncle Niu had passed away. Even though he knew that he could not easily throw his life away, he was still somewhat at a loss under great sorrow. He wanted to go and join his martial uncle Zhang Bao, but on the way, he learned that his martial uncle had also chosen to fight to the death with the Han army and had ultimately been defeated and killed.

He became a wandering doctor, treating people and silently searching for someone who could bear the *Taiping Heavenly Book* and create a world of Taiping benevolence, but he found nothing. In the winter of this year, he met a family and, while treating the old man, heard the familiar words Sili, and his movements couldn't help but pause.

The old man was saying that their ancestor, Zhuge Feng, had once served as Sili Xiaowei during the reign of Emperor Yuan of the Western Han Dynasty. This time, they had no choice but to go and join them because of the disaster year.

The old man looked at Yuan. Seeing that the young man was weak, although he was mature for his age and silent, he had medical skills. Feeling pity for the child's weakness, he said, "If you, Yuan, don't mind, why don't you go with us to join my distant relative."

The young man thought of his teacher's dying entrustment and nodded, his voice hoarse, "I don't know where to go?"

The old man was surprised that he spoke and replied with a smile:

"Langya Yangdu."

This year was the winter of the first year of Zhongping (184 AD).

The last flame of the Yellow Turbans was swept up by the chaotic world, carrying the Heavenly Book to the land of Langya.

This year, in Langya, there was a three-year-old child whose father was an official outside and whose mother also died this year.

………………

The scene before Wei Yuan's eyes slowly dissipated. The power on the Nine-Section Staff had already dissipated. The past of Yuan that it recorded could no longer appear. Wei Yuan was silent for a long time and reached out to stroke the Nine-Section Staff. He knew that the past version of himself had not died with the Yellow Turbans. So where was the remaining memory?

He thought of the *Taiping Essential Techniques*, which was said to have been written by Zhang Jiao himself.

At this time, someone knocked on the door outside. Wei Yuan's thoughts slowly recovered. Lin Li's voice sounded outside: "Curator Wei? Curator Wei, are you alright?"

"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 a little worried outside. Next to her was the old gentleman from the Lin family, who was also curious about how this Curator Wei Yuan had gone without eating or drinking for three days.

Lin Li was about to knock on the door when the door was pulled open from the inside.

She was stunned for a moment, while the old man next to her had a slight change in expression. He saw the young man in modern clothes walking out of the darkness, holding the Taiping Dao Nine-Section Staff in one hand. It looked like there was no sense of disharmony at all, as if he really held this thing, and his aura was harmonious.

In a trance, he seemed to see a young Daoist in a linen robe, transcending the years, with clear eyes.

But in an instant, this trance-like illusion disappeared.

It was still a modern young man with short hair, wearing a black Chinese-style jacket.

However, the old man from the Lin family still had an uncertain feeling in his heart. After all, the Nine-Section Staff was an item comparable in status to the Twin Dragon and Tiger Sword, and it had its own True Spirit, which was completely different from ordinary magical treasures. Wei Yuan asked what they wanted. One was to worry about his situation, and the other was to take away the Nine-Section Staff, because this thing had too much attraction for Taiping Dao cultivators and needed to be sent to the Tianshi Mansion (Celestial Masters' Residence) as soon as possible.

Wei Yuan was silent for a moment, raised his hand, and handed over the Nine-Section Staff engraved with secret patterns, and said softly.

"Treat it well."

The old man nodded and took it, his pupils contracting slightly as he felt a stinging pain in his palm.

He glanced at Wei Yuan slowly, but didn't say much.

Lin Li thought of the power that this young museum curator had shown before and said, "Curator Wei, those Taiping Dao cultivators shouldn't give up easily. I wonder if you can help?"

After Lin Li said this, her voice paused slightly. She suddenly remembered what her friend Zhou Yi had told her. She had also hoped to absorb this curator into the Special Operations Team.

However, she was rejected by the latter for reasons such as 'hoping to live the life of an ordinary person'. She couldn't help but lower her head and stuck her tongue out quietly. It seemed that she had said the wrong thing. She originally wanted to say that it was also okay if he didn't want to participate in this matter, but she heard the young museum curator say:

"Okay."

"Curator, you don't want to partici..."

Lin Li's eyes widened and she subconsciously looked at the other party.

Eh eh eh???

He agreed?!

Did this curator change his mind?!

……………………

Wei Yuan said goodbye to the two Shangqing Sect members, each with different expressions on their faces. Then he sat alone in the quiet room. He thought of his previous choices. At that time, he came into contact with the truth of this world and was a little scared. He didn't want to participate in the dangerous extraordinary world. Now that he thought about it, that initial idea had long since dissipated, because...

He looked at the bustling city outside the window, silent for a long time, his expression gentle and soft.

Creating the future and protecting this era was originally 'our' responsibility.

Wasn't it, Teacher, Uncle Liu, Yu...

However, he would still choose to be alone after all.

Faces flashed before his eyes.

In the end, he just raised his glass.

And in the end, he just drank tea alone.

ps: The first update, three thousand eight hundred words, a little late, sorry.

Thank you, thank you Cz丶 for the alliance leader, thank you~ Then today's second update may be a little less, I have to push the next line, thank you for your love, I can only try to write this book well, and I hope I can live up to everyone.

In fact, the core of this book comes from my occasional idea.

If an ordinary person in modern society, he is not bad, has a sense of justice, but also values ​​his own life and is unwilling to take risks, what will this person be shaped into if he accompanies the journey of heroes from generation to generation...