Chapter 70: Sorrow of the Black-Headed Commoners

"The black-headed commoners are not human."

This wasn't the first time Wang Ping had heard this. Chen Haoyan had said it. Xu Bingzheng had said it. Almost every official in Longxing County, high and low, had said the exact same thing.

He had never taken it to heart. Treating the lower classes as less than human was perfectly normal in a feudal society. Furthermore, there were officials like Lin Sheng and Liu Ye who genuinely sympathized with the black-headed commoners, so he had simply assumed the phrase reflected the imperial court's tyranny.

But now, Shouchong was telling him: "The black-headed commoners truly are not human. They are merely phantoms of the previous dynasty. Before its destruction, the former dynasty used a bizarre method to force them to remain in this world."

"That is why there is a divide between those inside the city and those outside," Shouchong continued.

"The people within the city, regardless of wealth or status, were all born after the previous dynasty fell, or are simply the descendants of the rebel army that rose up back then."

Shouchong's tone dripped with mockery. "Therefore, to the Great Shun, only the people in the city are upstanding subjects. The black-headed commoners outside are toxic remnants of the old regime. It is only right that they are squeezed dry, and if they die, they deserve it."

"How utterly laughable."

As his voice fell, Wang Ping met this with silence. Shouchong simply continued on his own, "I know you still have your doubts, my good disciple."

"After all, even if what I say is true and the black-headed commoners are just phantoms of the past, the grain they grow and the goods they produce are very real. If they were wiped out, the imperial court's tax revenues would plummet. From that perspective alone, the court should treat them well."

In short, it was about sustainably draining the pond to catch the fish.

Oppressing the black-headed commoners was one thing, but what the National Academy had done in Longxing County—wiping out all the black-headed commoners in an entire county—was tantamount to digging their own graves.

After all, if the black-headed commoners were all dead, who would pay the taxes?

Who would grow the grain? Who would do the manual labor?

The next second, Shouchong provided the answer himself: "The answer is simple. Because the black-headed commoners can never be fully killed... Even if they are wiped out, they will just reappear."

At these words, Wang Ping experienced a sudden supreme enlightenment.

"The black-headed commoners... can resurrect!?"

Shouchong nodded. "Bounded by a sixty-year cycle, all black-headed commoners will die off completely within that time. Then the era turns over, and they are born into the world anew."

"That is why the National Academy planned this so far in advance. After massacring all the black-headed commoners in Longxing County, they will announce a tax cut to pacify the city's upstanding subjects in the wake of the turmoil. Once the black-headed commoners outside the city resurrect, they will restore normal taxes. This way, they can repair the divine weapon without permanently depleting the people's resources."

"The National Academy calls it the best of both worlds."

Hearing this, Wang Ping was already too shocked to speak. Only after a moment did he calm his emotions and look at Shouchong. "So that is why you helped them indiscriminately slaughter the black-headed commoners."

"Exactly."

Shouchong gave a cold laugh. "They can endlessly resurrect anyway. Since that is the case, why not sacrifice some of them in exchange for a greater result? The trade-off is worth it."

"Then why don't you sacrifice yourself?" Wang Ping shot back.

Shouchong replied without a second of hesitation. "How do you know I haven't? Besides, haven't I told you before, my good disciple? I was born a black-headed commoner too!"

"It's just that I am different from the rest. I received the mercy of the Liansheng Bodhisattva. Thus, my resurrection time is much shorter than theirs."

"The others take sixty years, and every time they return, they have no memory of their past lives."

"I am different. When I die, it only takes me six days to wake again, and I never forget the past... That is how I discovered your resurrection in the first place."

Shouchong gave Wang Ping a deep, meaningful look. "I originally thought you were like me, my good disciple—a black-headed commoner who stumbled upon the mercy of some great virtuous being. I didn't expect you to have your own methods."

"However, I trust the years you spent as a black-headed commoner weren't wasted. You understand everything I'm telling you now, don't you? You worked as an undercover mole for the imperial court, and they kicked you into the gutter. For us black-headed commoners, if we want to fight for our own rights, rebellion is our only path."

Wang Ping certainly understood.

After all, just as Shouchong said, in his first life, he had acted as an undercover mole for the imperial court, only for them to turn on him and kill him. He still remembered that score to settle.

"They don't see us as human, so naturally, we don't need to care whether they live or die."

"Our two sides are incompatible, like fire and water."

"Either they die, or we perish."

Shouchong's voice took on an eerie tone, his deep eyes masking his thoughts. "Since that is the case, rather than letting them squeeze us to death, why not stand up and fight?"

"We can resurrect anyway."

"No matter how many are sacrificed, it's nothing but a fleeting illusion, unworthy of concern... After all, rebellion isn't a dinner party. How could there be no bloodshed?"

Wang Ping frowned deeply at these words and said in a heavy voice, "You've said all this because you want my help?"

"My good disciple truly grasps the point at once."

Shouchong gave a faint smile. "You said it yourself. That extraordinary person backing the National Academy is incredibly powerful. Since that is the case, naturally, I must try to gather allies."

"True."

Wang Ping nodded, yet he made no move to stand up. Instead, he remained seated, raising his head to stare silently at Shouchong. Everything was understood without a single word being spoken:

Where are the benefits? It is very hard for me to work for you like this.

This attitude made the corner of Shouchong's eye twitch, but there was nothing he could do. He could only say in a low voice, "Once it is done, every fiend born from the black-headed commoners will belong to you."

Wang Ping blinked at this. "That's it?"

Shouchong immediately bristled with anger. "An entire county! Tens of thousands of black-headed commoners transformed into fiends and refined into the divine weapon to elevate its foundation! Is such a massive benefit not enough?"

Wang Ping shook his head decisively. "The benefit is enough, but the risk is too high."

"Doing this undoubtedly means betraying my master. When they hold me accountable afterward, I'll be dead for sure. What use will any amount of fiends be to me then?"

"You can rest easy on that front."

Shouchong chuckled, "As long as you are still here, you won't be held accountable... At least as far as I know, the extraordinary persons capable of punishing you generally cannot come down."

"Besides, haven't you caught the eye of the Imperial Tribute Hall?"

"Hiding inside there afterward will be enough to keep you safe."

Wang Ping almost burst out laughing upon hearing this.

When it came down to it, the ones providing the benefits were either the black-headed commoners or the Imperial Tribute Hall. Shouchong himself wasn't coughing up a single copper.

All he could say was that while his own demand for benefits was a bit shameless, Shouchong's habit of painting grand illusions and being generous at others' expense was equally brazen.

Before Wang Ping could speak again, Shouchong waved his sleeve. "That is all I have to say."

"Truth be told, cooperating is merely to maximize our chances of winning. Regardless of your choice, our actions will not change in the slightest."

Wang Ping raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

Shouchong sneered. "Because... the world has suffered under the Great Shun for too long."

"Just in time. To prove my sincerity, I will let you see." Reaching into his robes, Shouchong brought out an exquisite statue, cradling it like a priceless treasure.

The statue depicted a holy woman with a compassionate face.

The Liansheng Bodhisattva.

This Bodhisattva's body was flawlessly white, completely untainted by the mortal world. Yet the lotus dais she sat upon was red as fire, so thick it looked as though it were painted in real blood.

"What is this?" Wang Ping frowned.

"Good question."

Shouchong formed a hand seal and then lifted the Bodhisattva from the lotus dais. In an instant, a blinding crimson color erupted from the blood-red lotus dais.

"This... is our resolve."

As his voice fell, a heaven-blotting wave of shrieks resounded.

Only then did Wang Ping see clearly. Hidden within the blood-red lotus dais was nothing else but thousands upon thousands of souls, completely corrupted to the extreme by baleful resentment!

Faced with this howling turbulent flow of souls, Wang Ping instantly activated the Soul Pursuing art to shield himself, isolating himself from all the influences of the souls.

Soon, however, he realized something was wrong. The howling souls weren't attacking him. Instead, they had willingly opened up their emotions and senses, abandoning all defenses. In this state, not only was Wang Ping completely unaffected by them, he could even decide their life or death with a single thought.

What were they trying to do?

Holding onto this question, Wang Ping attempted to touch one of the souls. In an instant, a torrent of memories flowed through the connection and poured into his sea of consciousness.

This soul had been born in Lower River Village, to an ordinary farming family.

He was a precocious child. From a very young age, he grasped the meaning of poverty, understood how hard his parents worked, and constantly helped look after the household.

One day, he saw traveling merchants from the county town pass through the village. They came every season to purchase grain, which they would then resell in the Outer Market outside the county town. At the time, he deeply envied the merchants because their pockets seemed to hold money that could never be completely scooped out.

Their clothes were made from fine, exquisite fabrics.

Occasionally, they would toss out delicious sesame candies to the children who crowded around them. He had been lucky enough to receive one, and he had never forgotten its taste in his mouth to this day.

Thus, he could not help but think, "I'm going to make sure my parents can wear clothes like that, and let my younger siblings eat such delicious sesame candy! One day, our whole family will move into the county town!"

He really was clever.

Once he set his goal, he began to try. He started by running errands for the traveling merchants, then became an apprentice for a trade guild, slowly accumulating his own capital to do business for himself...

He suffered many hardships.

Yet, the harder he worked and the more hardships he suffered, the more he felt something was wrong—it felt as though a towering wall stood right in front of him, obstructing him from climbing any higher.

Every time he threw his weight against it, desperate to break it open, he would only end up battering his head until it bled.

Bad luck.

Petty villains causing trouble.

Errors in judgment.

All kinds of trouble followed at every turn... but he did not give up. Finally, as he neared his fortieth year, he succeeded and built up a sizable family fortune.

"I bought a house in the county town!"

"I can finally move my parents over! And my younger brother and sister, and their children. In the future, they can all become upstanding subjects of the city."

He believed that as long as he continued to work hard, sooner or later, that towering wall would be trampled beneath his feet.

Rumble!

In a flash, the soul's baleful resentment erupted. A majestic wave of fury poured endlessly from the depths of his memories, fully meeting the standard required to incubate a fiend.

Subsequently, a scene surfaced in the memories: "The merchant Chen, maliciously hoarding grain and refined iron. Penalty: forty strikes of the cane, confiscation of all hoarded goods, and a fine of one thousand silver taels, to be paid to the County Yamen within ten days."

Overnight, it was like waking from a grand dream.

Unwarranted charges were pinned on his head just like that. His newly purchased courtyard was seized, and he was left owing a massive amount of silver. Just like that, he was driven to a dead end.

Wang Ping watched calmly and shook his head:

"...It's still not enough."

Having one's family ruined and destroyed was indeed tragic, and it would certainly breed baleful resentment, but to incubate a fiend, this level of resentment was still far from enough.

The memory scenes continued to change.

This was the story after that black-headed commoner's death. The angle of the scene had changed direction; it was likely something Shouchong had only allowed him to see after collecting his soul.

Those were... two officials.

Their attire was exceedingly unusual, traced with golden patterns that clearly marked them as not being officials of the County Yamen. They held paper and brushes in their hands, seemingly recording something.

"Lower River Village, the Chen family."

"He has a mind for business. Compared to the last record, he built an even larger fortune, and the confiscated property is also much more. He can be put on the high-priority watch list."

"Recorded on file."

"Wait another twenty years, and the sixty-year cycle will have arrived. When he resurrects then, we'll have the County Yamen secretly grease the wheels to let him strike it rich even faster."

"And then... we confiscate it all again!"

The two officials exchanged a smile. "I must say, thanks to the hard work of these black-headed commoners, we can just barely cover the deficit in the imperial court's expenses this year."

"Just in time, too. With them dead, there are fewer people eating the grain."

"Otherwise, if we let these black-headed commoners live out their natural lifespans, who knows how much food would be wasted on them. That would be a true sin."

"Looking at it that way, it's better if they just keep dying like this."

"Indeed. They will just grow back again anyway."

"That is what makes them human livestock."

The memory shattered.

Wang Ping opened his eyes. In his sight, countless souls wreathed in thick, baleful resentment overlapped and shrieked before him, ultimately converging into a single word: "KILL!!!"

Kill!