Seeking Truth with a Sword-Chapter 567 - 511: Braised Delicacies

Chapter 567: Chapter 511: Braised Delicacies
"I’ll go with you." He Siping put down his bowl and chopsticks and said with a smile, "I’ve just about finished eating anyway."
The two of them walked out of the inn and onto the street. In Tongluo City, it was windy year-round, and the rammed-earth road surface, stirred up by the constant wind, was lightly dusted with a layer of sand.
About twenty percent of the shops along the street had their doors tightly shut; some had even boarded up their doors and windows. They looked as if they had closed down for good.
"These shops must be owned by Yu Country people." He Siping noted Li Ang’s gaze and said, "News of the Old Khan’s critical illness has already spread. Many of Yu Country’s citizens who were doing business and living in the Turkic lands have already found ways to leave the steppes. Even if they might have lived in the Turkic regions for decades, perhaps even marrying and having children here, once war breaks out, they would still be captured by Turkic soldiers, their properties confiscated, and even turned into slaves."
Li Ang paused upon hearing this. Selling properties quickly would surely result in heavy losses, but for those Yu Country citizens living abroad, there were no better options.
He sighed, "The cries of thousands of families rise with the sounds of war."
"The songs of barbarians arise in numerous places from fishermen and woodcutters."
He Siping added the second half of the verse and chuckled, "Does Risheng also dislike war? I thought you young people would recite poems like ’Desiring to chase with swift cavalry, great snow fills bows and knives’ or ’Who knows not the hardships at the frontier, even in death still smells the fragrance of a hero’s bones’."
In Chang’an City, the most common occasion for new poetry wasn’t the imperial examinations, but the private gatherings of scholars. Since Jing Country and Zhou Kingdom issued their condemnatory declarations, the scholars had produced a great number of Campaign and Frontier poems. These scholars eagerly wrote poems and songs to express their patriotic sentiments, itching to don treasure swords and join the military to combat the enemy at once.
Li Ang shook his head, making no comment. He had no objections to the patriotic sentiments of the scholars, but war turns men into beasts, and turmoil grinds away lives like a millstone until a tragic peace is achieved.
"I still can’t understand why Taihao Mountain suddenly instructed the various countries to issue these declarations against us," Li Ang said. "There were no signs of this during our previous academic exchanges."
"No one knows." He Siping shrugged. "The Prime Minister and His Majesty thought for three days and nights and still couldn’t understand the reason. It can only be attributed to a sudden whim on Taihao Mountain’s part. Perhaps a Tianqi was received by the Torch Language Mechanism, or maybe the widespread dissemination of Natural Science made Taihao Mountain feel threatened..."
It might also be because of the Mountain Master’s lifespan,
Li Ang silently thought. A Cultivator like the Mountain Master could single-handedly decide the outcome of a war. Perhaps Taihao Mountain had long wanted to start this war, but they had endured until now because of the Mountain Master’s presence. Is it really impossible to overcome the Heavenly Person Five Decays?
The two continued walking along the street. It was evening, and each household had begun to light fires for cooking. A peculiar aroma of braised meat wafted over.
He Siping sniffed and couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows. "What delicious meat! Which shop is this from?"
Li Ang subconsciously sensed the Mo Si within his Body. Ever since absorbing a portion of the brown mud that day, the Mo Si had evolved a bit further. Not only had the number of controllable avatars increased, but each avatar’s sensing abilities had also become more acute, possessing hearing, smell, and even touch far exceeding those of ordinary people.
For instance, right now, a fly controlled by the Mo Si, drawn by the swirling scent of braised meat, slowly flew towards a residence.
This mansion must belong to some Turkic nobles. It was sprawling in size with numerous pavilions, yet the courtyard was deathly silent, with not a single servant or guard in sight.
Strange...
The fly hovered above the mansion for a while, finally pinpointing the direction from which the aroma of the hot braised meat was coming—the kitchen.
The kitchen doors and windows were tightly closed. The fly compressed its body and slipped in through a crack around the door.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The sound of a Chopper cleaving bones echoed from the far end of the room. The fly crawled over shelves laden with fruits and vegetables. It could only see a massive figure by the stove, wielding a rust-covered kitchen knife.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The figure hacked forcefully, causing the four-finger-thick wooden chopping board to tremble slightly from the sheer force.
He tossed a large chunk of meat into a boiling iron pot on his left—the aroma of braised meat emanated from it—while the remaining meat hung on iron hooks on a rack to his right.
The fly, rubbing its legs, suddenly stopped.
Those iron hooks were laden with a grotesque display of meat:
Hands, feet, hearts, lungs, heads.
To its horror, they were all human remains—parts of the people who had once lived in this mansion.
The sound of chopping abruptly ceased. The figure suddenly turned, the Chopper in his hand flying out like an arrow released from its bow, nailing the fly heavily to the wall.
The still-living fly finally got a clear look at the figure’s face.
He was a burly butcher, powerfully built with a face full of fleshy folds and a curly, matted beard, dressed in a blood-stained overcoat.
Zhao Ming, the Cannibal, Ghost Shovel.
「 」
Walking three streets away, Li Ang suddenly halted, grabbing He Siping who was about to move forward.
At the crossroads ahead of them, a gaunt figure slowly paced into the middle of the road.
He was an old man with sharp, monkey-like features. He wore a turban and a gown shirt, a wooden sword scabbard hanging from his right hip. His palm rested on the hilt of the Sword as he smiled faintly, gazing at Li Ang and He Siping from afar.
"HIYAH!"
A group of young Turkic nobles came galloping from a distance on their horses. Foxes, rabbits, and other game hung from ropes on their saddles; they were clearly returning from a hunt, excited and eager to show off their day’s haul to their families.
The leading noble youth, seeing an old man blocking the road, raised his riding crop without a word, preparing to strike.
The whip, with a WHOOSHING sound, swung toward Yuan Sou, deceptively slow yet fast.
Yuan Sou neither dodged nor flinched, seemingly oblivious to the danger.
Then,
BUZZ—
A faint sound, like the buzzing of a cicada, rang out. The horse-riding youth instantly froze, his crop slipping from his hand and falling to the ground about three feet away from Yuan Sou.
Yuan Sou remained motionless, still smiling at Li Ang and He Siping. Only his palm on the Sword hilt seemed to have shifted its position slightly.
SNAP.
The left side of the riding youth’s forehead slid off, followed by the right. Straight lines of blood appeared all over his body, instantly dicing him into countless pieces.
His companions met the same fate. All seven youths were sliced apart atop their horses and fell to the ground, their high-quality Soft Armor offering no protection as it too was rent to pieces.
Scalding blood gushed over the horses’ backs as if it were free, causing the unscathed warhorses to rear up, whinnying in terror.
Screams pierced the air as pedestrians scrambled to flee in terror. Only the distant Tongluo City guards, oblivious to what had truly happened, were still looking over in this direction, puzzled.
The old man drew his Longsword from his side and gracefully performed the most orthodox Zhou Kingdom sword salute towards Li Ang and He Siping. He smiled and said, "A pleasure to meet you. I am Zhao Ming, Yuan Sou."