Chapter 145: Establishing a Shrine to Receive the People's Incense

The people of Dongshan had long carried guilt in their hearts toward Fang Xun. The moment this elegy was published, it immediately stirred a powerful resonance among the masses.

Countless people copied it by hand, using it to offer distant memorials to Fang Xun.

As for the subtle literary techniques hidden throughout the essay, the deliberate omissions and restrained yet razor-sharp criticisms woven into its lines, who would bother to nitpick them now?

For one, Yin Fengshuo's downfall was already inevitable. Although he had indeed taken charge of disaster relief immediately after the catastrophe, not a single person now dared risk standing against overwhelming public opinion by speaking in his defense.

Secondly, the dead deserved respect. Fang Xun's sacrifice to save the people was an undeniable fact.

As for which side to stand on, the answer required no explanation.

The memorial essay spread throughout the region, its influence fermenting for two full days.

By the third day, surviving officials of every rank throughout Guling Commandery arrived one after another to pay their respects, each harboring thoughts of their own.

Beginning on the fourth day, scholars of the Confucian lineage, having heard the news, came from every direction despite the long and dusty journey.

The situation in Dongshan quietly began to change because of Fang Xun's death and because of Li Shun's memorial essay.

As Fang Xun's sole disciple, Li Shun spent these days dressed in coarse mourning garments. His expression remained heavy with grief, yet he received every group of mourners who had traveled from afar with calm composure and impeccable order.

Although there was an endless stream of visitors, he managed the entire magistrate office without the slightest confusion. Everything proceeded in perfect order despite the overwhelming workload.

Fang Han watched it all unfold, and admiration gradually filled his heart.

On the twenty-ninth day of the fourth month came the day of Fang Xun's burial.

There were no remains.

Only a symbolic grave containing his robes and ceremonial attire was laid to rest.

Before the grave, where white funeral banners fluttered in the wind, Li Shun met Zhao Cheng once again.

The former Commander of the Black-Robed Guard seemed to have risen even higher following his master Duanmu Qiuche's breakthrough into a higher realm. Every movement now carried the effortless dignity and authority of one long accustomed to standing among the powerful.

Zhao Cheng stood quietly before Fang Xun's tombstone, his expression complicated.

"The events of the past still feel as though they happened yesterday. Yet after only a short separation, Brother Fang has already perished, his Dao extinguished."

"Truly... the affairs of this world are ever unpredictable."

After a soft sigh, he turned toward Li Shun, who stood beside the grave with his head lowered in silent mourning.

"You have handled your master's funeral exceptionally well. Brother Fang can be said to have left behind a worthy successor. I believe he can finally rest in peace."

Keeping his eyes lowered, Li Shun answered solemnly, "As his disciple, this is only my duty."

"Martial Uncle, this disciple has one request."

Zhao Cheng raised an eyebrow.

"Speak."

Li Shun lifted his head, his gaze sincere and unwavering.

"This disciple wishes to build a shrine for my master here in Dongshan, so that the people may pay their respects and have a place to honor his memory."

However, Zhao Cheng did not immediately agree.

After pondering for a moment, he explained, "Building a shrine and establishing a temple is no trivial matter. Such matters require strict approval from the imperial court."

"However..."

"What Brother Fang accomplished truly moved both heaven and earth."

Li Shun continued, "This is not merely my own wish."

"It is the wish of the tens of thousands of people of Dongshan."

As he spoke, he carefully withdrew a folded piece of white cloth from his robes and respectfully presented it with both hands.

Zhao Cheng focused his gaze upon it.

Spread across the white cloth were countless crimson handprints and signatures, packed so densely that hardly an empty space remained.

Those who could write had signed their own names.

Those who could not had simply pressed their blood-red fingerprints upon the cloth.

The handwriting varied in size and quality.

The handprints were large and small.

Yet at this moment, the will of tens of thousands had become one.

A humble petition to the Imperial Court.

Please grant Lord Fang a shrine.

This petition cloth representing the will of the people had been gathered over the past several days. Secretly dispatched by Li Shun, Li Qing and Fang Han had traveled throughout the devastated ruins, visiting household after household to collect the signatures.

To be honest, the task had been rather difficult at first.

The survivors were still haunted by fear after the disaster and hesitated to participate.

But as more and more names appeared upon the cloth, convincing the remaining people became increasingly easy.

Looking at this petition that embodied the people's collective will, Zhao Cheng's expression gradually grew solemn.

With great reverence, he accepted the white cloth in both hands before giving Li Shun a slight nod.

"With this..."

"It becomes much easier to justify."

"Our Confucian lineage has not produced someone worthy of having a shrine established in their honor for many years."

After murmuring softly to himself for a while, Zhao Cheng looked toward Li Shun.

"Rest assured."

"I will immediately seek an audience with my master and report this matter."

"Wait for my news."

"And remember..."

"Until an official reply arrives, no matter how strongly public sentiment may surge, do not act rashly."

"Otherwise, others will seize upon it as grounds to attack you."

Li Shun naturally nodded in agreement.

Death is like the extinguishing of a lamp.

No matter how great the commotion had been before, everything gradually settled down with Fang Xun's burial.

No more refugees flowed into Dongshan Town. Instead, large numbers of craftsmen gathered to begin the work of reconstruction.

As for the well in Dongshan Town, the very source of the Heavenly Dao Severance Qi eruption, it had already been placed under heavy guard by the Black Armored Army.

Within the courtyard, both Zheng Zhi and Li Shun were present.

A middle-aged man dressed in an unusual official robe stood before the well, his expression solemn as he conducted a careful examination.

Li Shun recognized the attire at a glance. It appeared to be the distinctive official uniform of the Directorate of Celestial Observation.

"Are you certain the black qi first spread from here?" the man asked.

Zheng Zhi wiped the cold sweat from his forehead before nodding.

"When Lord Fang discovered it, he sealed it immediately. We believed everything would remain under control from then on. Who could have imagined..."

The man from the Directorate of Celestial Observation snorted coldly.

"Utter recklessness. After discovering Heavenly Dao Severance Qi, he should have reported it immediately. Fang Xun was only at the Spirit Resonance realm. How could he possibly have sealed it..."

Halfway through his sentence, he sensed the atmosphere around him and abruptly fell silent.

If Fang Xun were still alive, this matter alone would have been enough to charge him with dereliction of duty.

But Fang Xun was already dead.

There was no point pursuing the matter any further.

Shaking his head, the man leapt into the well.

Only after a long while did he emerge once more.

"Interesting. Someone secretly tampered with the earth veins, and there are even traces left behind by the remnants of the old nation?"

His eyes lit up with excitement, as though he had discovered something remarkable.

Without bothering to explain further, he hurriedly departed.

This incident was nothing more than a brief interruption.

Afterward, Guling Commandery steadily resumed its recovery according to plan.

On the tenth day of the fifth month, following what seemed to have been an intense struggle within the imperial court, the matter of establishing a shrine in Fang Xun's honor was finally approved.

The moment Fang Han heard the news, he burst into tears once again.

He understood better than anyone what it meant for someone to have a shrine and temple established in Great Qian.

Having witnessed every step of Li Shun's arrangements from beginning to end, he was now completely convinced.

Somewhat awkwardly, he said, "Brother... Brother Shun. Before Uncle passed away, he intended for you to take charge of my studies and cultivation after you returned."

"Uncle respected you more than anyone. I didn't believe him before, but now... I do."

"If it had only been me..."

"...then Uncle's death would truly have been in vain."

His words came straight from the heart.

Li Shun seemed somewhat surprised.

After pondering for a moment, he nodded.

"Since it was Master's final wish, I naturally accept."

"However, let me make one thing clear beforehand. Although we're of the same generation, once lessons begin, I won't show you the slightest bit of leniency."

Fang Han was overjoyed.

He nodded so vigorously it was like a chicken pecking at grain.

"Don't worry, Brother Shun! From now on, if you tell me to go east, I absolutely won't go west. Whatever you say, I'll do!"

Li Shun let out a faint sigh.

"For now, let's finish building Master's shrine first."

In truth, the construction required none of Li Shun's attention.

The imperial court had already dispatched officials to oversee the entire project, from construction to restoration.

Their efficiency was astonishing.

In just three days, the shrine was completed.

It became one of the first buildings in Dongshan Town to rise again from the ruins.

On the day the shrine was completed, both Zhao Cheng and Kong Zhao personally arrived to attend the grand memorial ceremony.