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Even though reactions to the murder of four monarchs and Sacred Beasts, as well as the extermination of the local bandits, varied on the surface, they all reached the same conclusion in the end.
There were claims that Shaman Monarch Palace was merely annoyed that the four monarchs refused to kneel to Shaman Monarch and that it was Moyan Clan who killed the group. As a result, Moyan Clan’s skills were embellished more and more as the rumour spread.
Another version claimed that Qingqiu’s monarch was a one-of-a-kind beauty who refused Shaman Monarch’s advances, resulting in the bloodbath. The other three monarchs’ deaths were written off as them purely being in the same place at the wrong time.
Another recount claimed Shaman Monarch had every intent to assemble and kill them so that he could wrest control from them.
Strangely, Shaman Monarch wasn’t one-sidedly lambasted. Like how minorities dwelling in the mountain regions never discarded their primitive practices, distinguishing themselves, the new Shaman Monarch also performed miracles as the first one did to usher in legends about him. This move roused the nostalgia in Nanjiang’s residents, consequently increasing his number of subscribers. In turn, his rise to prominence drowned out the news of the monarchs’ assassination.
Rather than credit Ming Feizhen for the accomplishment, Shaman Faith might deserve the bulk of the credit since the two words were the people’s real belief system. The spike in returning followers once again proved that Shaman Faith hadn’t gone anywhere.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtNo debates changed the fact that four states lost their monarchs and that they wanted revenge, nevertheless. The smell of sharpened blades, the heat of roiling blood and the sound of angry hooves could all be smelt, felt and heard from Mount Wanyu. In contrast, the man responsible for the commotion enjoyed unbelievable serenity.
Shen Yiren stormed Ming Feizhen’s room first thing in the morning, not even bothering to knock or offer a greeting. Equally as surprising as the tranquillity at the residence, Ming Feizhen was reading in bed instead of sleeping in. Despite him having changed, the neat bed and pyjamas told anyone observant that he might’ve been reading in his current posture all night.
“Why did you do that?”
Ming Feizhen didn’t need to ask further questions to understand what “that” referred to. He turned to the next page, gaze still fixated on the pages. “Sometimes, some blood needs to be spilt to accomplish the goal.”
“I can understand killing White Cleric for poisoning us and harbouring bad intents, but you killed four monarchs… Do you know how many more people are going to die?”
Ming Feizhen’s finger finally stopped, though it still took him a moment to take his eyes up. It wasn’t just Shen Yiren’s mouth that was asking questions; even her eyes were seeking answers from the bottom of her heart. Those eyes devoid of any other feelings beyond her genuine feelings dimmed the scarlet in his eyes somewhat.
“Didn’t I tell you that we were doing this my way? Don’t make me explain.”
“… Do you feel you did the right thing?”
“Maybe not, but it was necessary.”
From Shen Yiren’s perspective, perchance the four monarchs weren’t virtuous people. Even so, they didn’t have a grudge with Ming Feizhen, and she had never heard of any of their wrongdoings, so she judged his actions to be indiscriminate slaughter of the innocent. If there was a big gap between his abilities and theirs, and surrender was the only option, then so be it, but it wasn’t the case.
Ming Feizhen could fight back. Shaman Monarch Palace combined with all its followers, Wanyu and Baimu’s support, Heisina Clan and elites on standby at Xiuyu City were at his command. If they really had to scrap, would the four really win? An equally important question to consider, though, was, how many casualties would result as a result of that war?
Shen Yiren chose to ask Ming Feizhen for his reasoning as she believed he wasn’t someone whose first option was to sacrifice people. She wanted to save as many people in her power in the disaster that may transpire, too.
“No comment.”
This guy could piss me off to death! What’s his deal! Refuses to answer questions whilst looking at me and looking pitiable!
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmShen Yiren was cognisant of the fact that Ming Feizhen was suffering inside despite appearing settled and logical on the surface. She had a feeling that he had reasons for bottling it up inside, and she knew he would most probably find a way to dodge the question if she tried to pry.
Shen Yiren expected that reaction from Ming Feizhen frequently ever since he gave his word to never tell her a lie again. She could confidently say she knew him quite well at this point. To put it nicely, he carried burdens alone without asking for anything in return. To be blunt, he was plain stupid. If the sky was to come down, he’d get first and worry about explaining later. Coincidentally, he had the ability to handle the majority alone. Who could assert without a shadow of doubt that he would never make an error, though? If one man is handling everything, who can clean up his mess once he makes a mistake? Accordingly, Shen Yiren had to keep a pulse on things.
… Can’t you trust me more? Am I not your companion?
The longer she looked at his face, the hotter Shen Yiren’s fire burnt. Vice-Captain Shen wasn’t the kind of lady someone could shoo off with just a word or two.
Shen Yiren stepped outside and yelled, “Hey, step outside!”
“What for?”
Tilting her head to the side a little and raising her chin. “Step outside. Let’s scrap.”
Ming Feizhen’s brows rose as he sat there checking with himself that he didn’t hear wrong. “You’re in the mood for games?”
Shen Yiren tapped on her sword at her sash. “Games? No. I know you’re stronger than me. How about giving me some swordplay pointers? I need all the help I can get for the upcoming battle.”
There’s one place that can really polish a person – the political arena. Shen Yiren’s justification for a match was ridiculous, yet she set it up so that Ming Feizhen would feel guilty if he turned her down.
Ming Feizhen was going to shake his head post-deliberation, but he stopped himself because of the look in Shen Yiren’s eyes. He set his book down, then zipped into the courtyard, keeping a helpless smile on his lips. “Miss Shen… draw your weapon.”