Chapter 69: Jinling Storytelling, Speaking Until the Blood Turns Cold

Jiang Che spoke in a Jinling teahouse all afternoon.

There was no Sword Qi.

There was no pressure.

Nor were there any impassioned speeches.

He spoke very calmly.

So calmly that the crowd, initially excited, slowly stopped smiling.

He spoke of Luo'an.

He spoke of how the Altar was built.

He spoke of what Runes were carved onto the Black Stone.

He spoke of how a woman held her child and begged for mercy.

He spoke of how the elderly were pushed by the Imperial Guard into the blood array.

He spoke of how the people's first cry of "No" was actually very quiet.

He spoke of Han Zhou.

He spoke of how Lu Heng invited the Barbarians into the pass.

He spoke of how the Zhenbei Marquis Manor burst into flames.

He spoke of how the old butler, before dying, shouted for the young master to run.

He spoke of Tian Duan Cliff.

He spoke of how forty-nine people died when the first layer of the Ten Thousand Swords Formation broke.

He spoke of Liu Suanpan protecting the medicine chest.

He spoke of how the old man Jiang Ling guarded the cliff for thirty years, and before dying said, "The Jiang Family is no longer the only one guarding the cliff."

He spoke of the Western Desert.

He spoke of a child giving water to a mother who was already dead.

He spoke of a female doctor whose eyes were burned blind yet still remembered the prescription.

He spoke of how Xiao Cheng'an used the blood of the Crime Clan to restart the seal.

The entire teahouse went from crowded to deathly silent.

Later, it was not just the people inside the teahouse who listened.

People on the street also stopped.

A painted boat halted in the middle of the river.

Merchants forgot to shout their wares.

Many Scholars stood in the rain, listening with pale faces.

Because for the first time, they realized that behind the amusing tale of "Jiang Che Ascends the Throne" in their mouths lay so many graves.

Jiang Che, speaking to the end, lifted the already cold tea and took a sip.

Then he said:

"I will not ascend the throne."

"Not because I am so noble."

"But because I have seen the Dragon Throne eat people."

He looked at the crowd.

"You may doubt me."

"You may curse the Council Hall."

"You may write articles saying the New System is bad."

"That is all allowed."

"But do not weave the blood of the dead into lively storybooks."

The storyteller was already in tears.

He spoke with a trembling voice: "Sword Master, I am guilty."

Jiang Che shook his head.

"If you took black money to spread rumors, you will be punished according to the law."

"If you merely heard it, then go listen to the truth."

"And then tell the truth."

The storyteller wiped his face, then suddenly walked to the front and bowed to the people outside the teahouse.

"Everyone, starting tomorrow, I will not speak of the Nine Dragon Chair."

"I will speak of Luo'an."

In the crowd, someone whispered, "We have not seen it; how can we know true from false?"

Lin Xiaoman stepped forward.

He opened the History Book.

"I have seen it."

"I wrote it."

"There is a register here."

Zhou Buqi also stepped forward.

"I guarded Han Zhou; I fought at Tian Duan Cliff."

"I can testify."

Xie Tingxue said coldly, "The Sword Pavilion can also bear witness."

A scholar from Jiangnan, his face flushed red, said:

"But what if Jiang Che truly becomes emperor in the future?"

Jiang Che looked at him: "Then write this sentence down today."

The scholar froze.

Jiang Che said, "Write it clearly: you suspect Jiang Che will become emperor in the future."

"If one day I truly sit upon the Dragon Throne, bring it to question me."

The scholar stood stunned for a long time, then suddenly clasped his hands in salute.

"This student has recorded it."

Jiang Che nodded.

After this day, the rumors in Jinling did not vanish immediately.

But they changed flavor.

Because the rumors encountered the truth for the first time.

And the truth was not a single edict.

It was the blood spoken by Jiang Che himself.

Three days later, many new storytelling segments appeared in Jinling.

"Luo'an Unwilling."

"Tian Duan Cliff Register."

"Anling Broken Flag."

"The First Drop of Rain in the Western Desert."

Some cried.

Some cursed.

Others still sneered coldly, saying Jiang Che was putting on a show.

Jiang Che did not care.

He established the first out-of-town Wenxin Hall in Jinling.

The Hall Master was not a Sword Cultivator.

But that storyteller.

A line of characters hung at the entrance:

"For words heard, first ask if they are true or false."

Zhou Buqi stayed to assist.

At parting, he said to Jiang Che:

"Sword Master, I fear I will not do well."

Jiang Che said, "Fear is correct."

Zhou Buqi smiled: "Fear aside, must the sword be steady?"

Jiang Che paused, then smiled.

"Yes."

When leaving Jinling, the rain stopped.

Lin Xiaoman asked, "Young Master, are the rumors considered broken?"

Jiang Che shook his head.

"It will not be that easy."

"Then is what we did useful?"

Jiang Che looked at the storytelling stalls along the street beginning to tell the story of Luo'an.

"Yes."

"The truth does not necessarily win immediately."

"But someone must speak it first."