The Second Scroll: Perish with the Sun

Youshen Temple. Chen Haoyan had already shed his official yamen robes for sleek martial attire, his face veiled in black cloth to reveal only a pair of hawk-sharp eyes. Centering upon him, silhouettes flashed in a dazzling, brilliant blur, reflecting golden light beneath the sun so bright it stung the eyes. Each of these figures bore a weapon—sabers, spears, staves, or cudgels. Shifting and weaving through fluid formations, they rolled with overwhelming baleful qi as they encircled him. "What an impressive Bronze Man Formation." Chen Haoyan murmured in admiration. "I have long heard that Youshen Temple's courtyard-guarding bronze men are extraordinary—that once deployed in formation, they can take on a hundred foes, formidable enough to stump even martial masters." *Whoosh!* Right then, a sudden gust tore through the air. The harsh sunlight glancing off the bronze men caused Chen Haoyan's vision to waver, and his eyes narrowed involuntarily. Yet at that exact split second, the motionless bronze men erupted. Every weapon struck out with lethal ferocity, crashing down toward Chen Haoyan from all directions. The sheer force packed behind their strikes was in no way inferior to that of an external martial artist at peak completion like Xie Shi, packing genuine monument-shattering power. Facing this onslaught, Chen Haoyan neither dodged nor parried. Bracing his sinews and bones, wisp after wisp of blood-red qi seeped from his pores, weaving together into an impenetrable shroud over his body. *Boom!* The bronze men's weapons smashed against the blood-red qi, but like eggs striking a stone, they were blasted back on the spot, failing to harm even a single hair on Chen Haoyan's head. The next second, Chen Haoyan unslung the massive bow from his back and notched nine arrows in his grasp. In the spark of a flint, he released nine shots in rapid succession toward every quarter! With every arrow loosed, the snap of the bowstring blasted open a visible white ripple in the air. As all nine fired, the cascading shockwaves layered atop one another. To look upon it was like seeing a monstrous tidal wave erupt from flat earth—a shockwave born from the tearing of the atmospheric barrier. The loosed arrows moved too fast for the naked eye to track; by the time the sonic booms tore through the air, the arrows were already striking their chests! In the blink of an eye, the Bronze Man Formation shattered! Chen Haoyan's strength was monstrous, amplified by internal qi and armed with black iron armor-piercing arrows. Even though each bronze man weighed over a thousand jin, they were still blasted backward through the air. Seizing this opening, Chen Haoyan immediately sprinted forward. *Bronze men are invulnerable to blade and spear. Although my nine arrows drove them back, they caused no damage. Once they recover their footing, they'll regroup into formation at once.* When that happened, he would be encircled again. Though firing those nine arrows had looked effortless, he had actually poured everything into them, and he could not sustain such explosive bursts for long. "Now!" Chen Haoyan moved like lightning, charging toward a predetermined angle. Slipping past the dazzling flashes of gold, he encountered no bronze men blocking his path. His line of sight cleared, and Chen Haoyan's spirits lifted. *Indeed, my eyes didn't deceive me. This Bronze Man Formation is far from flawless. There is a gaping vulnerability—this angle has no bronze men stationed to guard it!* Having escaped the Bronze Man Formation's encirclement, Chen Haoyan dared not dally. He surveyed his surroundings at once, taking in the layout of Youshen Temple. "The secret elixir of immortality... where is it?!" It was common knowledge that the thaumaturge alchemists entrenched throughout the prefectures, commanderies, and counties received such favored treatment from the imperial court precisely because they could refine elixirs of immortality. This was by no means mere myth. One had to know that the reigning Son of Heaven was already over a hundred and twenty years old. At such an age, even a martial legend would have withered into decrepitude. Yet the emperor remained as vigorous as ever, capable of bedding ten women in a night without flagging. This was the handiwork of those thaumaturge alchemists. It was their longevity secret elixirs that enabled the Son of Heaven to repeatedly break through his mortality limits and live to this day. And this was precisely what Chen Haoyan had come for. "Which one is the pill chamber?" Chen Haoyan's eyes gleamed as he scanned the temple's various wings. His nose twitched, and in an instant, he locked onto the room exuding the heaviest medicinal aroma. *Bang!* Kicking the doors open, Chen Haoyan barged straight into the room. Before him loomed an enormous pill furnace, surrounded by row upon row of wooden shelves lined with assorted porcelain bottles, each labeled with tiny script. A potent medicinal fragrance washed over him. Which one was the elixir of immortality? *To hell with it... take them all!* With the courtyard-guarding bronze men regrouping and closing in behind him, Chen Haoyan had no time to ponder. He stripped off his outer tunic and swept every bottle inside. With that done, he sprang into the air. With a thunderous crash, he smashed straight through the pill chamber's ceiling. Spurring his internal qi, he stepped across midair as if walking on flat ground, poised to make his clean escape. Yet right at that moment— "Pity our mortal realm, so fraught with grief and sorrow." His heart having relaxed for a fleeting instant at his triumph, Chen Haoyan's pupils suddenly contracted. Before his eyes bloomed a lotus flower. *Not good!* The next second, Chen Haoyan's gaze turned dazed and glassy. A lotus descending to the mortal world, delivering all sentient beings from suffering. Amidst the scattering lotus petals, Chen Haoyan seemed to see a compassionate, sacred maiden walking toward him. The rich scent of incense smoke flooded his nostrils. This was something he had never experienced firsthand, yet he had read accounts of it in the dossiers of the capital's Divine Constabulary. At the time, he had dismissed it as the ramblings of subordinate officials dodging responsibility. Only now did he realize. *Those weren't fabricated ghosts and gods... they truly exist?* *Liansheng Bodhisattva... is alive?!* ... In the Mortuary. Wang Ping's figure materialized once more. His eyes immediately fell upon the towering tome before him, watching as the radiant, gold-gleaming book turned another page. Volume Three: Blank Pending inclusion. Seeing this, delight bloomed across Wang Ping's face, but he soon caught something amiss. The Lotus Blade plus the Longxing County seal—how could they have only turned a single page? Or could it be... The next second, the pages flipped backward. A scene that thoroughly astonished Wang Ping unfolded: the second page of the Classic of Great Peace had changed. Across the once-blank parchment, countless characters materialized in blood-red strokes. In a daze, a vision seemed to unfold before Wang Ping's eyes. It was a rural village, much like the Qian Village of his past, yet currently thrown into chaos. Constables from the county yamen were going door to door, interrogating the households. Soon, he knew the reason. These yamen constables were conducting a census and surveying the farmlands to levy new taxes, claiming all the while that this was a tremendous blessing that benefited both the state above and the commoners below. Then he saw a constable led by a farming household to a modest plot of farmland, scarcely one mu or so in size. The head of this household was a white-haired elder, who said with an ingratiating smile, "Sir, this is the field granted by the court." "It's about one and a half mu." "One and a half mu?" The constable glanced at the field before him, then shook his head. "You're mistaken. The official ledger here says there should be eight mu." "Huh? Eight mu?" The elder froze in shock, then hastily asked, "Could there be an error? Sir, you can see it with your own eyes—my family's field is only this big." "That's none of my concern," the constable replied flatly. "It's written in black and white in the official ledger; there can be no mistake. You must be concealing hidden land, thinking you can pull the wool over our eyes." "How could that be! Sir..." Ignoring the elder's wails, the constable said coldly, "Enough. Go fetch your grain quickly. Remember, not a single coin or grain of the autumn tax for eight mu may be short!" With that, he glanced at the elder, then at the young man and boy standing behind him. "Furthermore, by imperial decree, a household may henceforth consist only of father and son. You have three generations here, don't you? From now on, your grandson must be split off into a separate, new household." Hearing this, the elder remained bewildered. "Wh-what does that mean?" The next second, the constable rested his hand on the hilt of the oxtail saber at his waist and said softly, "It means that for this autumn tax, you must pay for two households." "What?!" "Sir! Mercy, sir, have mercy..." "This is the very last of our grain, you can't take it away!" The vision came to an abrupt halt. When Wang Ping looked again, he saw cart after heavily loaded grain cart being hauled into Longxing County. Then the scene shifted once more. This time, Wang Ping found himself in a familiar place: the inner courtyard of the county yamen. Two men sat across from each other, sipping tea and conversing. One of them was none other than Chen Haoyan. At this moment, Chen Haoyan bowed respectfully to the other man and murmured, "Reporting to Your Honor, this autumn tax collection has been an overwhelming success, far exceeding expectations!" "Oh? Truly?" Hearing this, the other man displayed pleasant surprise. As he looked up, Wang Ping finally got a clear look at his face—a refined, scholarly middle-aged gentleman. "Tell me, how successful was it?" Chen Haoyan rattled off the figures effortlessly: "We personally went down to the countryside and uncovered a hundred thousand mu of concealed land and over three thousand eight hundred unregistered households, all of which have been newly entered into the ledgers." Chen Haoyan spoke with ill-concealed pride: "As a result, this year's autumn tax has multiplied several times over. To be frank with Your Honor, there is scarcely any room left in the county seat for all the grain carts. Every storehouse is bursting at the seams. I had no choice but to have the constables help construct several temporary granaries just to store it all." "Good, good, excellent!" The scholarly gentleman clapped his hands and laughed heartily. "Entrusting this matter to you, Haoyan, was indeed the right choice. Now I can report back to the imperial court with flying colors." "However..." At this point, something seemed to occur to the gentleman, and he furrowed his brow. "The autumn tax is vital, but we must not press the reputable households in the city too hard." "Rest assured, Your Honor," Chen Haoyan quickly explained. "The Lin, Chen, and Liu families... I have already settled terms with all seventeen reputable clans in the city. They need only surrender ten percent of their land." "After all, most of our yamen constables hail from these respectable lineages, so how could we push them too far? A blind eye here and there settles matters. There is plenty of land outside the walls, and doing this violates no statutes. Mutual concealment among kin is not a crime under the law!" Only then did the scholarly gentleman break into a smile. "That is for the best." "One must remember that the people are the foundation of all things; only then can the realm stay stable." "Besides, most of these reputable families have practiced martial arts for generations and possess genuine skill. Stirring up trouble with them would only disrupt harmony within the county seat." "By contrast, the common folk outside the city walls know nothing of martial arts, nor do they need so much grain. Leaving it to them is a waste, and in any case, they cannot make waves." "Let them bear the hardship a little longer." Chen Haoyan nodded at once. "Your Honor speaks with utmost wisdom. I will ensure everyone is instructed accordingly, so as never to commit acts that harm or torment the people, lest it tarnish Your Honor's upright and incorruptible name." The scholarly gentleman nodded in pleased satisfaction. "I have always trusted your work... As luck would have it, a vacancy has opened up in the capital's Divine Constabulary, and I have already recommended you to fill the post." Chen Haoyan was overjoyed. "Thank you, County Magistrate!" At this point, the vision shattered completely. Wang Ping opened his eyes to find himself back in the space of the Classic of Great Peace. On the towering tome before him, every character gleamed with blood. "The magistrate... So that's how it is." He had wondered earlier why the Classic of Great Peace—which should have only processed scrolls upon collecting a corpse—had suddenly begun to stir. "The answer is simple: it did collect a 'corpse.'" Only, the corpse this time was not an individual, but the whole of Longxing County. That Longxing County seal—the court treasure that, according to Shouchong, held the incense faith of the entire county seat and the tens of thousands of commoners within and outside the walls—was the corpse of Longxing County. And what it had tallied and settled was the very event that brought about Longxing County's death. An official's seal was forged from the blood of myriad commoners. Inside the city walls, music and dancing celebrated peace and prosperity; outside the walls, corpses littered the wilderness. The so-called Longxing County had already died during that autumn tax collection; it had simply not yet drawn its final breath. For a moment, Wang Ping recalled his life before the last. Back then, when he had first transmigrated into this world as an infant, the wealth his family had scraped together over most of a lifetime could not even buy polished rice, and he had nearly been abandoned. Why was it like that? Fields had stretched everywhere across the village, heavy with crops. When the harvest season arrived, a vast expanse of golden crops met the eye—so why was grain still lacking? Why couldn't they even afford rice? Why, when starving, could they only dig for wild vegetables or eat coarse rice, rationing what little they had across three days of watery porridge, even mixing in pebbles and grit simply because it made the stomach feel fuller... only *feel* full, not truly sate their hunger? Why was the world like this? Walking up to the Classic of Great Peace, Wang Ping gently brushed his palm across the page, carefully touching each blood-red character, and let out a deep sigh. Volume Two: Perish with the Sun. No matter how loud the clamor of weeds, they cannot shake the sun in the heavens; an oath of mutual destruction is nothing more than a dying man's final wail. So that was the reason. The effect of the second scroll, Perish with the Sun, was simple. In short, it was to sacrifice a thousand of one's own to harm eight hundred of the enemy—akin to a curse technique. "When I engage a target in combat, every injury inflicted by the target can be recorded by Perish with the Sun. Once I deem it sufficient, I can enter the space of the Classic of Great Peace, activate Perish with the Sun, and inflict retribution upon them based on the severity of the wounds." "The magnitude of retribution is measured against the gap between me and the target." "At the same level, the wound and retribution are equal. If I am stronger, lighter wounds inflict heavier retribution. If I am weaker, heavier wounds inflict lighter retribution." The next second, the world spun. With the refinement complete, Wang Ping stepped out of the Mortuary. After a moment of silence, he gripped the Black Hornless Dragon Bow and oxtail saber beside him with resolute determination. Tonight, another heavy rain poured down. Wang Ping rose, slipped soundlessly out of the carriage, and vanished into the rain, his gaze locked firmly onto the distant Youshen Temple. "Damn you, Chen Haoyan, trying to send me to a gruesome death..." Yet now that he had survived, he might as well do something. Besides, this life was one he had already resolved to expend, leaving him free to act entirely as he pleased. *...Take it as repayment.* Wang Ping lowered his eyelids, his gaze lingering for a moment on the recorded text of Perish with the Sun. Then he slowly straightened his posture and let out a long breath. Judging by its effects, the potential of this scroll was well worth looking forward to—enough to become a trump card for victory. He had truly made a killing this time. So, as repayment for receiving this scroll... And to vent his spite along the way... *Chen Haoyan, one of Longxing County's 'suns'... with this life, I'll shoot him down for you all!* *Rumble!* Beneath the downpour, Wang Ping's figure seemed to merge with the sudden flash of lightning. Tearing through the curtain of rain with a thunderous roar, he vanished swiftly into the distance.