Chapter 946: He Was Never at Peace to Begin With

Another three years passed in a flash.

By the time Chen Changsheng woke from that absurd dream, the world was engulfed in turmoil.

The flames of war had swept through the southwestern and southeastern domains. Prince Jin, the King of Wei, and the Prince of Yan were locked in a bitter struggle. The Imperial Court, standing firm in the north, appeared stable, but in the shadows, it was constantly constrained by Prince Jin. The two factions clashed in secret, sparking repeated disputes without either side making any real headway.

Shangjing had also lost much of its peace. The war in the Southern Region had put the people on edge, especially since the Imperial Court seemed content to just watch helplessly, doing absolutely nothing.

The scholars of Shangjing, and even the common people, were deeply disappointed by this.

If that rebellious prince truly succeeded, would there even be any justice left in the world?

Chen Changsheng listened to the disdain and curses of the people around him, finding it all rather familiar. He had witnessed a similar scene in Jingshi. It had been just like this—everyone cursing the Imperial Court's incompetence. The commoners cursed, the officials cursed, yet the moment the fighting approached Shangjing, they all fled faster than anyone else. Only a sparse few remained.

But it didn't matter; the world was always like this. This generation had lived through so many changes in dynasty that the concept of a nation was no longer that important to them. In the hearts of many, this so-called country simply wasn't as precious as their own lives. The emperor was always changing, yet they had to bow to whoever took the throne. In this era, whether that respect was genuine merely depended on whether the person sitting in that position was a good emperor.

After buying a jug of wine, Chen Changsheng left the area. He didn't visit Tang Manor. Instead, he left Shangjing, heading south.

"Listening to Rain."

Chen Changsheng called out, "Help this Chen on the journey."

The immortal sword soared into the air as Mister Qingshan stepped onto it. A tempest of sword qi swept up, carrying the Mister south to find the place where the lotus flowers were in full bloom.

Along the way, he looked down.

He saw the Southern Domain swirling with wisps of baleful aura and the stench of death.

Looking closely, he saw it was just outside a city.

Atop the city walls, soldiers screamed themselves hoarse. "Hold the line! Hold the line! These dog thieves! Don't let them up!"

Amid the flash of sabers and swords, lives were invariably cut short.

Blood flowed down the walls, seemingly intent on dyeing the entire structure red. Some of it had already dried, leaving deeply etched crimson streaks. The stench of blood saturated the entire gatehouse. There was no telling how long this fierce battle had dragged on; corpses were piled high at the foot of the wall, radiating a putrid rot.

"Kill!!"

The soldiers below the wall glared with ruthless eyes, their jaws clenched tight.

"Mighty Yan Army! Kill them all!"

As the two sides clashed in the siege, the Wei Army appeared increasingly powerless. For one, their remaining troops were severely depleted. For another, the suicidal charges of the Yan Army were simply too overwhelming to fend off.

If reinforcements didn't arrive soon, the city would fall. Should that happen, the entire southeastern front would be pushed back all because of this single city, and things would turn truly disastrous.

Chen Changsheng cast a calm glance downward, then closed his eyes and said, "Let's go, Listening to Rain."

This world ultimately had to endure a baptism of blood before it could rise to its peak once more.

Continuing further south, the scars of past slaughter marred the route. The cities he had passed through in the past were now devoid of life; their streets brimmed only with the killing intent and aura of death left in the wake of marching armies.

The vibrant, living world had become suffocatingly dead.

As for how this war would end, the signs were already beginning to show. The King of Wei's defeat was a foregone conclusion...

Caught in the conspiracy between Prince Jin and the Prince of Yan, the Imperial Court was stalemated, and the long-held peace of Weidi would soon vanish into thin air.

It would be difficult for this situation to turn around.

.

.

The Lotus Pond District of Yan County, a land of lotus flowers nestled in the Southern Domain, was now a picture of peace.

This place remained the same as in years past. While the flames of war spread across the world, these southern parts were largely spared from its ravages. Even so, the district was noticeably devoid of men; walking down the street, one would be hard-pressed to spot an adult male. Most of them had been conscripted.

Bearing the appearance of an old man, Chen Changsheng walked into the district.

The lotus flowers of Oulianfang had not yet fully bloomed. He had arrived a little too early—perhaps driven by the anxiety in his heart.

The district was tranquil, but the pedestrians on the road wore deep expressions of sorrow.

It was most likely because the men of their households were away fighting in the war, leaving them anxious and unsettled.

More than a few sighs filled the air.

Walking along the path carved through the lotus ponds, Chen Changsheng briefly paused.

He glanced to the side.

He saw Hong Yu swimming in the lotus pond. The fish was also looking back at Chen Changsheng.

The two looked at each other in silence.

The fish watched him for a moment before turning away and sinking into the depths.

She didn't say a single word.

Chen Changsheng withdrew his gaze and continued forward.

The Tang Family Old Residence did not show its age. The estate's servants had applied a fresh coat of lacquer, making the old residence look brand new. Yet, even so, it couldn't bring back the bustling liveliness the manor had once possessed.

Ever since the Grand Aunt of Tang Manor passed away, the place had grown even more desolate.

Chen Changsheng arrived at the gates of Tang Manor. After pausing for a moment, he knocked on the door.

"Who is it?"

A slightly hoarse voice called out from behind the door.

The person who opened the door was Tang Manor's old steward. Upon seeing the visitor, the steward initially froze. As he stared for a moment, the face looked increasingly familiar.

"You are..."

"Mister Chen?"

The steward had recognized the Mister.

Chen Changsheng cupped his hands in greeting. The two stood in silence.

The steward opened his mouth to speak, but after a moment, he only let out a long sigh.

Yellow paper was burned within the ancestral hall.

An additional spirit tablet now sat atop the altar in the ancestral hall.

By all rights, since the Grand Aunt held a different surname, she shouldn't have been permitted into the ancestral hall. Some of the more ignorant servants in the manor had gossiped about it, but the master of the house had stepped in, punishing a good number of them until they finally shut their mouths.

The steward escorted the Mister to the ancestral hall and then withdrew.

He knew he shouldn't linger.

Chen Changsheng lit the yellow paper, letting it catch fire in the brazier as he dropped the sheets in one by one.

That girl hadn't left behind any final words, just like when he had left.

Chen Changsheng appeared rather calm; neither joy nor sorrow could be seen on his face.

All along the journey, he had been wondering what he should say once he arrived. His mind had been constantly on edge.

Yet upon arriving here, his heart instantly quieted down.

All the chaotic thoughts swirling in his mind dissipated into thin air, just like the ash rising from the brazier—blown away without a trace by a single gust of wind.

"Whoosh..."

The fire in the brazier flared up.

But Chen Changsheng still felt it wasn't enough, so he added a few more sheets.

Only when the firelight finally brought him a hint of warmth did he stop. Looking again, he noticed quite a bit of unburnt spirit money scattered around the brazier, dropped in his flustered haste.

Chen Changsheng felt a pang of frustration at this sight. Piece by piece, he picked up the scattered spirit money and tossed it back into the brazier.

His initially calm heart suddenly felt as if a taut string had snapped. In an instant, it dissolved into complete chaos. Emotions surged forward like a tidal wave, overwhelming him and leaving the numbly seated Mister Qingshan entirely at a loss.

He was never at peace to begin with.