YM778.TV Chapter 6 - 6 Finally Died
Half a month later.
As Colonel Niu handled his cards, he said that Su Wenhao died in the imperial prison.
They say that when he died, there weren’t many bones left in his body that were still intact.
“In our line of work, remember to be cautious in what you say, be very cautious!”
Colonel Niu cautioned, “Especially you, young Yi, do not chat idly when delivering meals to the prisoners. Liu Shilang asked me to tell you not to hear what you shouldn’t, nor to speak of what you shouldn’t!”
“The young man understands.”
Zhou Yi felt a faint dread in his heart; this truly was a significant lesson.
In Fengyang Country, there was no rule of law; a person’s life and dignity depended entirely on the will of those above.
A single poem or phrase could potentially become a deadly accusation!
For instance, Zhou Yi bringing wine and meat to Wei Chang, calling him a hero, and praising him in conversation. If someone with an agenda reported to the Imperial Court, the lighter punishment would be exile, and the worse, being charged as Wei Chang’s co-conspirator.
At that time, Longevity Dao Fruit would have become as unreal as a fleeting cloud!
“Never try to stick your head out in any affair!”
Zhou Yi warned himself that in the future, he would certainly encounter many more injustices, and he must learn to be indifferent.
Just stand by, watch, and don’t ask, don’t meddle, and certainly don’t rescue!
Peddling through the mundane world while living as if outside of it.
Zhou Yi understood the crux of it, transformed into an emotionless meal delivery man in the celestial prison, offering a smile only to the prisoners who offered silver in return.
After all, a jailer’s monthly salary was only five pieces of silver, not enough to cover the cost of listening to music once at the Spring Breeze Building.
The better the prisoners ate, the more silver Zhou Yi earned in monthly profits; calling him their ‘parent of clothing and food’ was not an exaggeration!
That day.
The celestial prison admitted a new inmate, said to be the leader of southern rebels.
Dark-skinned and thin, his face riddled with the wrinkles of sorrow; he looked nothing like a general commanding tens of thousands, but rather a poor old farmer from the fields.
The appearance of the old farmer general brought some excitement to the celestial prison.
Colonel Niu and several officers took turns inventing cruel methods to torture and interrogate him, and in just a few days, the old farmer was no longer human-like.
The old farmer didn’t have Wei Chang’s iron bones and resilience, yet his endurance surpassed everyone else. With torture devices like clamps, branding irons, spiked whips, heavy shackles… and so on, used one after another, he let out not a single scream.
Each time after the torture ended, the old farmer spat out clots of blood but still had the energy to curse people out.
“Dog officials!”
“Go on, if I beg for mercy even once, I’ll take your surname, grandson!”
“…”
Zhou Yi, standing by, suddenly felt that this man indeed seemed more like a general.
Only a few days after the general was taken in, he was sent off to be beheaded at the vegetable market. Together with him, dozens of others were executed that same day, from generals to sergeants, their blood splattering all over the execution grounds.
The onlooking crowd cheered loudly; they just wanted to watch the excitement and paid no heed to why these people were being beheaded!
Zhou Yi stood at the edge of the execution grounds, watching as the general’s head rolled far away, eyes still wide open, staring defiantly at the executioner without any sign of submission.
In the evening.
Zhou Yi returned to his small courtyard and meditated as usual in his cultivation practice.
The Guiyuan Skill had accumulated hundreds of strands of Inner Qi in the Dantian after more than half a year of practice, with the cultivation technique now operating smoothly.
“The universe is vast and limitless; where yin and yang unite, the primal qi harmonizes, and all return to the one… Damn it, why can’t my mind settle down!”
Zhou Yi’s mind was constantly filled with the image of the old farmer. He had heard him speak of how multiple provinces in the south suffered from consecutive years of drought, with corpses strewn everywhere, even to the extent of people exchanging their children for food, while the Imperial Court’s relief grains were all embezzled by officials.
Cannibalism!
These three simple words were terrifying upon closer reflection, signifying countless human tragedies.
“Human beings, with too much empathy, lead such a tiring life!”
Zhou Yi shook his head to disperse the turmoil within him; failing to vent his frustration could lead to his cultivation going awry and him becoming possessed by a demonic force.
“How should I soothe my mind?”
After much contemplation, he came up with a method.
In his previous life, many people, overloaded with work and life stress, prevented falling into depression by cursing or striking at effigies, reportedly with good effects.
“The person I want to curse is far too taboo; uttering the words could be a death sentence, but I can write it down!”
Zhou Yi purchased pen, ink, and blank notebooks to write in. The characters he wrote were in the simplified script from his previous life, which, even if seen, would not be recognized by others.
“How should I write it?”
After pondering for a moment, he wrote: The thirty-ninth year of Emperor Chongming’s reign, in the month of Guimao, on the day of Wuchen…
“Seeing the beheading of the rebellious general today, my heart is heavy; this dynasty has rotted through from top to bottom.”
Zhou Yi slightly furrowed his brows, feeling something was amiss. Since he was writing this diary to curse others, there was no need for such formality, so he shifted his pen stroke.
“Emperor Chongming is no good, cherishing vain dreams of immortality. It’d be best if he choked on elixirs and died one day.
Having written this, I must criticize those palace Pill Masters for their lack of professionalism – using cinnabar, lead, mercury, and gold willy-nilly; one gulp guarantees to send Emperor Chongming to heaven.
Maybe they do know alchemy? After all, this is a world of cultivation, and it’s normal for Loose Cultivators without hope for immortality to come and enjoy the palace.
Thus, I curse Emperor Chongming to have each of his eight princes fathered by eight different men!
Upon thinking this, I immediately felt a burst of relief and continued my cultivation.
Setting a small goal for myself: a hundred years of cultivation strength!”
…
Half a month passed.
Zhou Yi opened his notebook and began to write in his diary again.
“Today, that young rake named Long was imprisoned again for murder, reportedly deliberately setting a fire that killed many people.
This bastard is still arrogant in the celestial prison because too much salt was added to a dish, he had the guards beat me and the cook.
I, Lord Zhou, will remember this!
This is not over!
Young Master Long, I, Zhou, will be waiting for you in the celestial prison…”
Still not feeling at ease after writing this, Zhou Yi continued to curse Emperor Chongming for several hundred more words before he let the matter rest.
Another month went by.
Zhou Yi opened his notebook and recorded what he had witnessed during the day.
“Another month till the New Year, and yet one cannot find joy.
Everyone knows that the charge of rebellion is unfounded, and the Imperial Court officials tacitly agree, beheading the entire family of the marshals of the National Dynasty, three hundred people in all.
It’s said that the rebel army has reached Yuzhou, just a few hundred miles from the Divine Capital, and the court doesn’t think about sending troops to suppress them but continues to focus on its own internal strife.
Fengyang Country is finished!
Hence, I can’t help but curse Emperor Chongming here…”
…
The fortieth year of Emperor Chongming’s reign.
“I gained some insight today – there actually are people who can transform their appearance through the Art of Disguise, from male to female, with no one able to discern their true sex.
This lecher sneaked into the boudoirs of women, skulking about and committing crimes.
As a result, even within the Jinyiwei there were experts in disguise, who dressed up as beautiful women to bait the lecher, and finally they captured him alive.
I record this matter because I have discovered a new method of venting, such as mixing some croton powder into the lecher’s food.
Does that seem somewhat perverted?
All this is to be blamed on the Dog Emperor…”
Zhou Yi fed the rapist several packs of croton powder, gaining the Art of Disguise, so that in his later years he could disguise himself as an old man to avoid colleagues from detecting anything unusual.
Outside there was chaos and extreme danger, nowhere as safe as hiding in the sky prison!
…
In the forty-second year of the Chongming era.
A hundred and fifty thousand rebel soldiers besieged the Divine Capital, the leader of whom was known as the Eight-Armed King.
The officials were terrified, and the National Dynasty was unstable.
Zhou Yi had thought that the changing of dynasties would happen tonight, and had prepared a lot of food and vegetables, hidden in the cellar of his house, enough to last for half a year.
As a result, the Eight-Armed King suddenly died a violent death.
The Imperial guards took the opportunity to rush out of the city gates, crushing the rebel army and lifting the siege of the Divine Capital.
“Man cannot fight against fate, the destiny of Fengyang Country is not yet exhausted!”
Zhou Yi recorded this event in his booklet, naturally not without vehemently cursing Emperor Chongming at the end.
“The world is in chaos, and the Dog Emperor still insists on collecting the birthday tribute. It is said that some prefectures have been taxed up to the one hundred and twentieth year of Chongming…”
Three years passed, Zhou Yi accumulated five hundred taels of silver and found a martial arts school at a cheap price to begin practicing martial arts body refinement techniques.
At such a turbulent time, even the sky prison was not so safe.
Body refinement in martial arts was not only for fighting, but also for running fast!
…
In the forty-fifth year of the Chongming era.
A special prisoner came to the sky prison, the big son of the Dog Emperor, the former Crown Prince.
“How can there be a Crown Prince of forty years, no wonder others rebel.
The Crown Prince seems to be mild-mannered, not at all like the spawn of the Dog Emperor.
It’s a pity he didn’t succeed. Rumor has it that there is a Martial Arts Grandmaster at the Dog Emperor’s side. The Eight-Armed King did not die of sudden illness but was assassinated…”
Zhou Yi, as usual, cursed the Dog Emperor a few times, feeling pleased.
He had been practicing the Guiyuan Skill for five years now; when fully activated, he could shatter a blue brick. According to the martial arts world’s standards, he should be unranked.
Wei Chang was right, it is very difficult for ordinary people to make a breakthrough practicing Inner Qi.
The body refinement technique Zhou Yi learned from the martial arts school is called the Five-Tiger Great Strength Fist, which by its name is common goods, and is far inferior to the profoundness of the Guiyuan Skill.
In three years, he reached the great accomplishment of skin and flesh training, and his arms had the strength of fierce tigers.
Blunt weapons like clubs and sticks, when landing on him, would have their power greatly reduced. He could already be considered a third-rate master.
…
In the forty-sixth year of the Chongming era.
Zhou Yi returned from the Spring Breeze Building and took out his booklet to curse the Emperor Chongming fiercely.
“The Dog Emperor…”
After writing three words, suddenly, he didn’t know how to continue cursing; whatever insults he thought of, he found he had already used before when flipping through the previous pages.
Zhou Yi browsed through his booklet; the frequency of his diary writing had decreased more and more.
At first, he would write once every half month, later once a month, and then once every two or three months.
In recent journal entries, he seldom wrote about cases of injustice; the entries were all about cursing the Dog Emperor, yet the tragedies within the sky prison never decreased.
“The more I see, the more indifferent I become!”
Zhou Yi muttered to himself, as time and experience accumulated, his emotional threshold seemed to become higher and higher.
“That’s not right, I never tire of the sisters at the Spring Breeze Building!”
The diary ended here, with nothing more to curse.
Emperor Chongming had truly neglected his duties; staying away from court for over thirty years, he hid in the Shangyang Palace cultivating immortality.
Zhou Yi, feeling helpless, finally wrote down.
“Why won’t the Dog Emperor die?”
From then on.
Zhou Yi would write the same sentence every day, cursing for the early demise of Emperor Chongming.
…
Early in the morning.
The mist was dense, and in the sky, the last stars and crescent moon still hung.
Zhou Yi was moving rapidly in the courtyard, his fists punching the air, producing a continuous sound.
Bang bang bang!
It was like the sound of a cowhide drum, or like the rumble of distant thunder.
In the bitter cold of winter, Zhou Yi wore only a thin short outfit,
After a few rounds of punching, his Qi-Blood boiled and overflowed from his body, turning into steaming vapor.
“Ha!”
At the end of his practice, Zhou Yi exhaled a long breath that formed a three-foot-long white mist in the air, lingering without dispersing.
“Having cultivated the Five-Tiger Great Strength Fist to the bone tempering stage, I’m already considered a second-rate master. It’s just that I’ve never fought anyone, nor am I versed in weaponry, so I only have power in appearances!”
Zhou Yi had grown into an adult, and since five years ago, his stature and appearance had not changed in the slightest.
Having truly experienced the profoundness of the Longevity Dao Fruit, Zhou Yi let go of his last bit of worry and completely became an ordinary and inconspicuous sky prison jailer, too lazy to care about the Imperial Court or the martial arts world.
Centuries passed, Zhou Yi remained unchanged, and the Fengyang Country was long gone!
Back in his room.
Zhou Yi slightly altered his appearance with some makeup, dulling his skin tone and making his complexion look somewhat pale and sickly.
At his current age of twenty-seven, it was easy to age prematurely after spending a long time in a dark and damp sky prison; thus, his current appearance was normal.
He headed straight to the morning market.
Zhou Yi found a stall, sat down, and called for the lady boss to bring up tofu brain and deep-fried dough sticks, when he suddenly heard a bell tolling.
Resonant, sonorous, with echoes lingering endlessly!
Dong dong dong…
Nine times in total, the ordinarily bustling morning market abruptly fell silent.
All the common folk looked up towards the direction of the palace; their uniformly synchronized actions as if they had rehearsed many times, waiting for a long while.
Zhou Yi kept his head down and continued eating his tofu brain, the corners of his mouth turning slightly up, sensing it was a hundred times more delicious than usual.
“The Dog Emperor is finally dead!”