Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
Wu Kong gazed at the contents of the scroll, a cold light flickering in his eyes, while a tinge of sorrow stirred within him. Was the world truly this absurd and laughable? Loyal ministers and capable generals were subjected to endless torment, while treacherous scoundrels rose to power, pushing this great land toward an abyss of no return.
He continued reading: In the eighth year of Shaoxing, Qin Quai was appointed as Right Minister... An envoy from the Jin Kingdom came to negotiate peace, and Qin Quai entered the palace with Wang Lun to meet the emperor. The emperor discussed the matter with the ministers, but Qin Quai deliberately delayed, staying behind to say to the emperor, "Currently, the ministers in court are timid and fearful, hesitant in times of crisis and unworthy to collaborate with Your Majesty on state affairs. In my humble opinion, if Your Majesty truly wishes to negotiate with the Jin Kingdom, it would be better to entrust this matter entirely to me."
"What a 'full responsibility'!" Wu Kong couldn't help but sneer. This Qin Quai truly played everyone like pawns! He could almost see a hunched figure in the dim court casting a massive shadow over the trembling officials; within that shadow lay boundless darkness and endless fear.
The emperor said, "I also have this intention; this matter shall be entrusted entirely to you." Qin Quai then replied, "This matter is of great importance; I ask Your Majesty to allow me three more days to consider it carefully."
"I must ask you, since you are so eager for results, why deliberately delay for three days? Are you not afraid that during these three days, a loyal minister might suddenly emerge from within the court, emulating Zu Ti who rose at the sound of a rooster's crow, pledging blood as an oath and rallying all loyal and righteous men to form the 'Loyal Minister Exposing Traitors Party' to ruin your plans?" The Wanderer's voice dripped with mockery.
Qin Quai grinned coldly. "Lord of Yan, you may not know this, but at that time there was no Zhao family emperor; it was clearly my Qin Quai's world!" His eyes sparkled with greedy light. "I have long prepared a list of those who should surrender; those cowardly ministers will all bow their heads obediently. Even if there are one or two fearless loyalists, they cannot stir up any storm."
"One must know that two fists cannot fight four hands; a hero cannot withstand many foes. Alone, what can he do against me? He will still have to surrender obediently and lose his head!" Qin Quai's voice was sharp and grating like an owl's cry echoing in this eerie Underworld. "Lord of Yan, do not forget that since Pangu opened the heavens and created the earth, how many loyalists willing to sacrifice themselves exist in this world? Even if there are one or two, they cannot make a difference. I can still enjoy high office and ride fine horses in wealth and glory!"
The Wanderer felt a surge of anger; these words were colder than the winds of the Underworld. He had once thought that the greatest tragedy was the disparity of power where the weak could only be slaughtered. But now he understood that more terrifying than power was the corruption of heart and decay of soul.
"By your reasoning, do you still see our current emperor or these officials?" The Wanderer gritted his teeth, his eyes burning red as if they would spit fire.
Qin Quai sneered dismissively. "Lord of Yan may not know that in the eyes of demons, these officials are merely a swarm of ants!"
"Ants?!" The Wanderer laughed in fury; how could Qin Quai regard living beings as mere ants!
"White-Faced Ghost! Where are you?" The Wanderer roared with a voice that shook hell itself. "Throw this scoundrel into the mortar and grind him into powder, turning him into millions of ants to vent my rage!"
The Ghost Messengers obeyed his command and soon brought forth a massive stone mortar measuring fifty feet long and one hundred feet wide. The mortar was dark as if it could swallow everything whole. Qin Quai was roughly thrown into it by the Ghost Messengers; he struggled in terror and cried out in despair, but it was futile.
The heavy stone pressed down with a sound of cracking bones as Qin Quai was reduced to a puddle of flesh. That flesh writhed and rolled before instantly transforming into countless black ants that scurried away in panic.
The Wanderer remained unsatisfied; he commanded that Wind King blow forth an ominous wind to gather Qin Quai's soul back together into human form.
"Qin Quai, take a good look now—who is truly an ant: these officials or you, this treacherous minister?" The Wanderer's voice was cold as ice, devoid of any emotion.
Qin Quai was already terrified, his face ashen. Faced with The Wanderer's questioning, he trembled uncontrollably, unable to utter a single word. Once filled with confidence, believing he had control over everyone's fate, he now realized he was merely a speck of dust in the torrent of destiny.
Wu Kong watched this scene unfold, feeling no satisfaction, only an endless sense of desolation. He understood that for every villain like Qin Quai in this world, killing one would only give rise to countless others.
The Oil Pot continued to bubble with a nauseating stench, a remnant of Qin Quai's lingering fear. He writhed on the ground, his once splendid garments now reduced to charred rags clinging to his decaying skin. The Wanderer merely observed coldly, devoid of any compassion, as if watching an ant toyed with after being caught.
"Weren't you so formidable? Didn't you say the emperor is nothing special?" The Wanderer's voice was like a chilling wind from hell, each word slicing into Qin Quai's heart.
Qin Quai wanted to plead for mercy but could not produce a sound; only hoarse gasps escaped his throat, reminiscent of a beast's dying wail. He stared at The Wanderer, his once arrogant gaze now filled with nothing but endless fear and despair.
"I ask you again, what is the emperor in your eyes?" The Wanderer's tone carried a hint of mockery, like a cat playing with its prey before the kill.
Qin Quai trembled as the heat waves from the Oil Pot crashed against his body. His consciousness began to blur, and The Wanderer's icy voice echoed in his ears, as if it were the judgment from hell itself.
"The emperor? The emperor..." He recalled the Nine Dragons Throne in Golden Luan Hall, Zhao Gou's terrified expression, the power he wielded, and his former ambitions...
"The emperor is nothing but grass and weeds, a plaything, an ant..." He used his last bit of strength to rasp out these words, as if this were his final obsession.
The Wanderer laughed, filled with derision and disdain. "What a fine piece of grass! What a splendid plaything! Today I shall make you experience being an emperor and let you taste that flavor!"
With a wave of his hand, Qin Quai was thrown back into the Oil Pot. The sound of flesh bursting echoed through the empty hell like the most mournful wail.
Moments later, Qin Quai was pulled out; he had been tortured beyond recognition. Yet The Wanderer did not intend to let him off easily. Judge followed The Wanderer's command and blew a breath towards Qin Quai, restoring him to human form.
"Qin Quai," The Wanderer asked with a hint of amusement in his tone, "during those days when you did nothing at all, what were you doing for entertainment?"
Qin Quai knelt on the ground, trembling uncontrollably. He dared not look up at The Wanderer and could only fixate on the ground as if there were some life-saving straw there.
"Entertainment? I... I had no time for entertainment..." His voice quivered as if he were desperately hiding something.
"Oh? Is that so?" The Wanderer snorted coldly. "As the Prime Minister of the current dynasty, you do not think about fighting enemies for your country, do not think about alleviating your lord's worries, do not think about rectifying order or clarifying distinctions; yet you claim you have no time for entertainment? I see you have clearly spent all your time indulging in wickedness!"
Qin Quai was so frightened that his soul seemed to leave his body, hurriedly bowing his head in supplication. "Grandfather, please see clearly! During the three-day extension, I was busy reviewing the lists of officials..."
He spoke tremulously about his "work," as if it were his last lifeline. He described how he used a vermilion brush to mark officials with the surname Qin, how he left blank spaces for eliminating rivals, and how he drew ominous circles in ink to signify death...
The Wanderer listened with an expressionless face, as if hearing an inconsequential tale. Yet inside, a storm was brewing; this was no mere list but a Life and Death Register, a roster of hell written by Qin Quai himself!
The Wanderer remained silent, and the Ruyi Jingu Bang in his hand seemed to sense its master's fury, trembling slightly. He suddenly raised his head, his eyes ablaze with fierce fire, staring down at Qin Quai, who trembled in fear and wished he could burrow into the ground.
"Good! Good! Good!" The Wanderer repeated the word three times, each utterance squeezed out between clenched teeth, filled with endless anger and mockery. "Qin Quai, oh Qin Quai, I wondered how you could be so carefree in hell; it turns out you have turned this Yama Hall upside down! Do you really think you can manipulate this Life and Death Register at will?"
"Deng Hua and Zhang Fan, my worthy brothers!" The Wanderer sighed heavily to the heavens, his voice full of grief and helplessness. "Why didn’t you deal with this scoundrel earlier? Letting him live in this world to commit such heinous acts! Enough is enough; since Lord Deng's thunderbolt is not used to strike down such treachery, let me, Sun Leigong, act on behalf of heaven!"
With that, the Wanderer ignored the kneeling and pleading Qin Quai. He swung the Ruyi Jingu Bang fiercely, causing the earth to shake and the skies to change. Dark clouds gathered ominously above the eerie Yama Hall as thunder rumbled, as if the wrath of the gods was about to descend.
"Boom—"
A deafening roar echoed as thousands of lightning bolts split the sky, illuminating the entire underworld. Ten thousand Thunder God Yama's Envoys descended from above, clad in silver armor and riding on w Hei Jiao of wind and fire, surrounding Qin Quai completely.
"Crack! Crack! Crack!"
The Thunder God Yama's Envoys mercilessly swung their iron whips again and again against Qin Quai's body, leaving him battered and bloodied. His piercing screams echoed throughout hell, yet no Ghost Messenger dared intervene because they knew this was divine retribution; it was fate!
Comment 0 Comment Count