Chapter 83: Killing the Heart

The more than ten thousand commoners within Luolong County City who identified in their hearts with the rule of the Great Wu Heavenly Dynasty suddenly froze, and then, in the direction where Meng Yifan was, they said: "You are guilty! Cut your throat and atone for your crimes!"

The sound of over ten thousand people accusing him gathered together like a monstrous wave, threatening to drown Meng Yifan.

"You are guilty! Cut your throat and atone for your crimes!"

"You are guilty! Cut your throat and atone for your crimes!"

…………

The so-called Dynasty Luck represents the People's Will. Now that Lv Dazhi holds the Luolong County Great Seal, he has mobilized the People's Will of over ten thousand people, all of one mind, simultaneously accusing Meng Yifan of being guilty.

There is an old saying: "The mouths of the masses can melt gold, and accumulated slander can dissolve bones." You might treat the accusations of three or five people as a passing breeze, hearing them and letting them go, but if over ten thousand people point at your nose and curse you, it will make you unable to help but change your own perception and obey the accusations of the crowd.

Following Lv Dazhi's pointing finger, the sound of the commoners in Luolong City accusing him rang out incessantly in Meng Yifan's ears. Unknowingly, Meng Yifan found himself streaming with tears, truly feeling that he was guilty.

"Why rebel? Rebellion means war, many people will die, and much blood will flow. A general's success is built upon ten thousand withered bones; furthermore, this is a great undertaking of rebellion. Regardless of whether it succeeds in the end, this path will surely be paved with rolling heads. For the sake of just my father and myself, is doing this really worth it? Forget it, give up, surrender, and bow your head to admit your guilt."

The accusations of over ten thousand people, through subtle influence, affected Meng Yifan's will, making him feel disheartened. He truly did not want to resist anymore. Holding the Ghost Head Blade in his hand, he placed it against his own neck, ready to obey the People's Will and cut his throat to atone for his crimes.

Lv Dazhi held the brilliantly glowing County Magistrate Seal, a look of triumph appearing in his eyes. The highest realm of killing is to kill the heart. He is a Confucianism licentiate; although he is physically weak and similar to an ordinary person, as long as he holds official power, he can mobilize the People's Will and use the will of the masses to execute the enemy's mind. This is the fighting style of a Confucianism scholar.

Waving a weapon to chop off an enemy's head and leaving a bloody mess is what vulgar martial artists do. For a Confucianism scholar, amidst laughter and talk, the enemy cuts their own throat to atone for their crimes; this is what a refined person should do.

"I am guilty!" Meng Yifan muttered. In the days since he transmigrated, hundreds of people had already died by his hand. When he was a mercenary on Earth, he had also committed countless slaughters. His hands were full of an indelible stench of blood; he was truly guilty.

"Let me just cut my throat to atone for my crimes." After Meng Yifan said this, he prepared to use the Ghost Head Blade to cut his throat.

"Bang!" The sound of a Bird Gun firing suddenly rang out. A Lead Bullet flew over and knocked the Ghost Head Blade off course. Meng Yifan froze for a moment before seeing his father, Meng Dayong, running over at high speed.

Seeing Meng Yifan about to commit suicide, Meng Dayong was sweating profusely with anxiety. He ran rapidly toward Meng Yifan, but realized he might be too late. At the critical moment, he used the Bird Gun directly to hit Meng Yifan's Ghost Head Blade, finally preventing his son from doing something foolish at the last second.

"Damn it, go and stop him." County Magistrate Lv was exerting all his strength to channel the County Magistrate Seal. Seeing that he was about to make Meng Yifan cut his own throat, he did not expect it to be stopped by someone at the end. He hurriedly spoke to Zhang Butou.

Zhang Butou also knew that the critical moment had arrived and that he absolutely could not let Meng Dayong come to disrupt the situation. Although he was seriously injured and poisoned, his strength far from what it used to be, he still had some confidence in stopping Meng Dayong. However, this group of bastards was charging while holding Cannons, which was a bit troublesome.

Zhang Butou could not worry about that anymore. Enduring his injuries, he gripped the Binding Demon Rope and ran rapidly toward Meng Dayong.

Seeing Zhang Butou trying to stop him from saving his son, Meng Dayong did not say a word and began firing while holding an Elm Cannon.

"Boom!" This Elm Cannon was loaded with Shrapnel Shells, and a large spray of iron fragments flew out. Zhang Butou was a Third Grade Martial Artist; these iron fragments could not pierce his skin, but with so many fragments spraying at once, Zhang Butou could not dodge them at all and could only choose to take the hit. As a result, his forward speed was inevitably affected.

Taking advantage of this opportunity, Meng Dayong rushed to Meng Yifan's side at top speed. At this moment, Meng Yifan still had a dazed look in his eyes, muttering to himself: "I am guilty, I should cut my throat to atone for my crimes."

Anxious, Meng Dayong slapped Meng Yifan across the face. He used his full strength for this slap, instantly swelling Meng Yifan's left cheek and causing a stream of blood to flow from the corner of his mouth. From childhood to adulthood, he had never hit his son, but at this moment, he could not care about that; he had to hit him, and hit him hard.

After being slapped, Meng Yifan finally cleared his head a little. He looked at Meng Dayong with some confusion and said: "Father, I am guilty. Because of me, many people have died; I deserve to die. Why did you come to stop me?"

Hearing his son say such things, Meng Dayong became even angrier. He raised his hand and slapped him again. Meng Yifan's right cheek was also swollen, his entire face puffed up, and even a nosebleed was struck out.

Zhang Butou still wanted to rush over. Meng Dayong, holding another Elm Cannon, fired Shrapnel Shells again. The dense spray of iron fragments once again delayed Zhang Butou's steps.

"Yifan, are you stupid? Outside the city, Demon Beasts are running rampant, and the commoners are living in extreme misery. Every day, a large number of people are eaten by Demon Beasts. The government clearly has the strength to go out and subdue the demons to save people, but these officials choose to hide in the city and continue their debauchery. They are the real sinners."

"In the Refugee Camp outside the city, hundreds of refugees starve to death every day. The government clearly has grain, but they do not go to provide disaster relief. They are the real sinners. We rose up to rebel not only for ourselves, but also to act on behalf of Heaven. Have you forgotten what you once told me? After our rebellion succeeds, we will open the granaries to distribute grain and save the disaster victims, and we will also organize an army to go out of the city and subdue the demons. Have you forgotten all of this?"

Meng Dayong roared at the top of his lungs. One night, Meng Yifan had poured out his heart to Meng Dayong, telling him his plans. At that time, Meng Dayong was truly shocked beyond words. He had not expected his son to be a hidden dragon with great ambitions. Although he believed the path of rebellion would certainly be difficult to walk, he still felt proud in his heart of his son's grand aspirations.

A person lives for a lifetime, like grass withers in an autumn; one must do something grand and spectacular to not live this life in vain.

A spark gradually flickered in Meng Yifan's eyes. He had finally awakened. He was not only rebelling for the sake of the two of them, but also to save the suffering common people of the world.

"What a sinister ability, to actually gather the People's Will to forcibly change a person's perception and make them end their own life." Meng Yifan felt a chill down his spine, a lingering fear.

Confucianism scholars look gentle and refined, without the strength to truss a chicken, but killing the heart is truly impossible to guard against.