Chapter 218 - 214: Young Lad, Behold the Rolling Wheel of History

Dharma Transmission: The skill of imparting knowledge and principles, causing the recipient to be unconsciously influenced. If woven with logic, it will be met with logic.

Song Ciwan had cast the Dharma Transmission Skill on herself, but in truth, this Dharma Transmission had actually fallen upon Mr. Gao.

Amidst the vast, red-clouded glow of sunset, Song Ciwan sighed softly. "Young man, ’Do not impose on others what you do not desire for yourself.’ How could you not understand this?"

Mr. Gao was tongue-tied, finding it even harder to speak.

He felt a sense of dread, as if he were back in his clan’s schoolroom. The feeling made him instinctively straighten his posture, press his palms neatly to his sides, and not dare to move an inch out of place.

Mr. Gao was at once angry and wistful.

He was angry because he couldn’t understand why he was being lectured by an outsider like Xin Mian. ’What right does he have? What does he know?’

But the wistfulness... If time could truly turn back, allowing him to return to the classroom, he would gladly be a student again. So what if he was slow and mischievous, and had to be disciplined by the teacher all over again?

’I want to go back! I’m willing to go back!’

Mr. Gao tilted his head back, his eyes shimmering. He stared at Song Ciwan with earnest hope, as if anticipating further clarification from her.

He was small and gaunt, with a slightly oversized head. Though his left eye was gone, with countless horrific tentacles extending from the empty socket, his expression at that moment was strangely, pitifully endearing.

Song Ciwan spoke slowly, "Young man, do you know what dynasty reigns in the Mortal World today? What era this is? A millennium has passed. Where do the Yun Country and Yan Country of your time stand now?"

Mr. Gao said, somewhat stunned, "Yun Country... Yan Country?"

He paused, his tone strained. "Was the Yun Country destroyed by the Yan Country?"

But Song Ciwan shook her head. "No. According to my knowledge, after the Yan Country marched on the Yun Country, their own homeland was invaded from the rear by the Yong Country, from west of the Yun Mountain Range. And so, the Yan Country fell!"

This was an outcome Mr. Gao had never anticipated in the slightest. The hands at his sides unconsciously clenched into fists.

"The Yan Country was destroyed by the Yong Country? Hehe, hehehe..."

Mr. Gao laughed, his head thrown back. Tears welled in his eyes, but he forced them back.

"The Yan Country was destroyed by the Yong Country! Hehehe, HAHAHA!" The more Mr. Gao laughed, the more agitated he grew, laughing until the tentacles at his feet shot out again, thrashing wildly beside him.

When his laughter subsided, he finally found his voice again. "Then what about the Yun Country? Is the Yun Country still around? Since the Yan Country is gone, does that mean the Yun Country survived?"

This time, he leaned slightly forward, his one remaining right eye locked on Song Ciwan.

Although he was trying to suppress his excitement, the tentacles at his feet ceased their frantic flailing. They retracted one by one, curling up neatly beside his feet.

Song Ciwan did not keep him in suspense. In a low voice, she said, "No, the Yun Country was destroyed as well. But it was conquered by neither the Yan Country nor the Yong Country. It fell to an excess of natural disasters. A ten-year drought left the land barren for thousands of miles. Not even the Capital City of Yun was spared."

Because she had experienced the Wealth Village Deceitful Realm back in Su Yang City, Song Ciwan had since taken the opportunity to look into the old history of the Yun Country.

Her research had been cursory, and she hadn’t delved deeply into that period of history, but that superficial knowledge was finally proving its use today.

The tentacles binding Song Ciwan had long since loosened without her noticing, and the needle-like pain that came with them had naturally faded away.

Song Ciwan didn’t bother trying to pull the tentacles off. She nonchalantly maintained her bizarre appearance and said coolly, "During the drought, the court officials fled the capital, but the Emperor of Yun did not."

"He consumed an Immortal Pill in the Imperial Palace. The Pill was a failure, and the Emperor withered away and died on the spot, right in his audience hall."

"Before taking the Pill, the Emperor of Yun also ordered all his Consorts in the palace to be hanged, all the Princesses to be given poisoned wine, and all the Princes to consume the Pill alongside him."

"This incident was recorded by later generations as the Turmoil of the Ba Pill."

"Another legend from later times says the true reason the drought persisted was because after Emperor Shang took the Pill and died, he transformed into a Hanba, a drought fiend. He lingered in his former homeland of Yun, causing the decade-long drought that could never be quelled."

"Of course, these are just legends. Whether they are true or not is difficult to verify."

Song Ciwan paused here, noticing the utterly bizarre expression on Mr. Gao’s face.

As he listened to Song Ciwan’s tale, his expression shifted with every new piece of information.

At times he seemed to be laughing, at others, crying. In the end, his face was a twisted mask, not quite a laugh, not quite a sob. Tears streamed down his face in a tragicomic display.

Mr. Gao let out another "hehehe" laugh. "Serves him right! He absolutely deserved it! Hehe, Emperor Shang? Is that the posthumous title later generations gave that dog of an Emperor? They overestimated him! He doesn’t even deserve the name ’Shang.’ He should be called the Dog Emperor!"

"No, he doesn’t even deserve the word ’dog.’ Calling him the Dog Emperor is an insult to dogs! He should be called the Fool Emperor—a foolish, wicked man! He deserved it! He deserved it! WAHHH..."

As he cursed, Mr. Gao began to cry again.

He cried with his head thrown back, "Father, Mother, Great-Grandfather... the Yun Country is gone! It’s gone! But we never became the slaves of a conquered nation. The Yun Country fell to a natural disaster! A natural disaster! Hehe, HAHA!"

As he cried and laughed, the Heaven and Earth Scale materialized beside Song Ciwan, collecting several wisps of Qi one after another.

[Small City Level Mysterious Ghost Spirit. Confusion, bitter hatred, sorrow. Five jin and nine taels. Tradable.]

Qi Over Five Jin!

This was a Small City Level Ghost Spirit’s Qi Over Five Jin!

And that wasn’t all. There was more: [Small City Level Mysterious Ghost Spirit. Catharsis, confusion, sorrow. Four jin and two taels. Tradable.]

[Small City Level Mysterious Ghost Spirit. Confusion, longing, sorrow. Three jin and six taels. Tradable.]

[Small City Level Mysterious Ghost Spirit. Sorrow, confusion, longing. Two jin and three taels. Tradable.]

...

Mr. Gao continued to cry and laugh, and all the tentacles entwined around Song Ciwan retracted completely.

He tilted his head back. The pupil of his right eye was a stark, watery black, while the socket of his left eye was a seemingly bottomless, empty cavern.

Song Ciwan waited until he had finished crying and laughing, until the Heaven and Earth Scale could no longer collect any Mysterious Ghost Spirit. As Mr. Gao stared blankly at the sky, she spoke again. "In truth, it wasn’t just the Yun Country, nor just the Yan and Yong Countries. Back then, across the Nine Provinces Land, there were innumerable kingdoms, both great and small..."

Mr. Gao said, "Yes. In my clan’s school, the teacher told us that the kingdoms of the Nine Provinces Land were as numerous as the stars in the sky. But at that time, there were only twenty-one great kingdoms, and the Yun Country was one of them!"

Song Ciwan said, "Then do you know that starting from that decade of drought in the Yun Country, the entire Nine Provinces was plunged into an era of warfare that lasted for three hundred years?"