Chapter 561: Chapter 181: The Descent of the Blood Gu Sect’s Gu God! Fan Wu: Now it gets interesting! (10,000-word mega Chapter, please subscribe)_1
"Chaos has erupted, everything is in chaos," declared an old man with white hair in a room of an inn within the Imperial City. Leaning against the window, he looked upon the disordered scene below and calmly said, "Now let’s see how the Crown Prince deals with this turmoil."
"If handled properly, the Imperial City may regain some peace. If not, perhaps it’s time to welcome a new master."
The boldness of the white-haired man’s statements could not be understated.
If someone from the Imperial Court overheard him, they would likely have him arrested on the spot.
"Ha! Patriarch Yan, you really shouldn’t say such things," interjected a middle-aged man seated nearby: "After all, the Great Zhou, at least for now, bears the surname Mu. You really should be careful—walls have ears!"
"Pah! What’s there to fear?" said a skinny person: "When the Great Emperor was still alive, did he ever lay a finger on us? No, he didn’t dare, and he couldn’t afford to. If he did, the consequences would be more severe than anything the Blood Gu Sect could stir up."
"We all come from Great Clans that existed even before the last Dynasty. The change of dynasties hardly affects us."
"Well, there is still some impact," the old man with white hair remarked: "Let’s just say we need not intervene in this matter and instead wait for the Crown Prince to resolve it himself. If he does well, there will be peace. But if he doesn’t..."
Before he could finish his sentence, the old man suddenly reached out, and, in a flash, grabbed a gu insect that was flying towards them in his hand.
Golden light swirled at his fingertips.
The gu insect immediately burst apart!
"If he fails to resolve it properly," the old man continued, "then we will divide up the Great Zhou Dynasty, this ’big cake’, rather nicely. After all, dynasties flow like water, but Great Clans are forged in iron."
These individuals were the helms of segments of the Great Clans of the Great Zhou Dynasty. Anyone of them held top-tier authority within the Imperial City.
Yes, they were just a part of the whole.
There were many more Great Clans entrenched in the Imperial City.
But one thing they all had in common was this:
To them, the so-called Great Zhou Imperial Court didn’t hold much weight; they wouldn’t be too disturbed whether the Great Zhou Dynasty survived or if its territory fell into chaos.
Even if the entire Dynasty were to be engulfed in a horrific conflict, they had the means to protect themselves and keep out of harm’s way.
Only the smaller families, or those Great Clans without deep foundations, would tremble with apprehension.
In the eyes of these individuals:
The Great Zhou royal family...
...was just a larger clan!
There was no difference between them!
...
"Abbot! Abbot! Have you heard... there’s big trouble at the foot of the mountain," gasped a little novice monk, calling out to the Temple Abbot with a white beard: "Many people down below are killing each other! So many people... have died!"
"Amitabha Buddha..." the Temple Abbot pressed his palms together: "Block the temple gates. Do not allow anyone to ascend the mountain. Be they incense guests or evil doers, none shall pass."
The little novice monk was taken aback: "Abbot, aren’t we going to go down the mountain to help the people?"
"How would you help?" the Abbot glanced at him: "With only ten Martial Monks in the temple, maintaining its safety amidst this chaos is already our limit."
"But... but Abbot, didn’t you say..." the little novice monk was confused; he remembered the Abbot speaking differently before.
The Abbot spoke: "Amitabha Buddha. The events this time are beyond our capacity. If we rashly get involved and guess correctly, all will be well."
"But if we guess wrong..." he paused before continuing: "The entire temple will be buried with it."
"The Old Monk has grown old. I care not whether I live or die."
"But you, as a little novice, are still young."
"The Old Monk is saving you."
Still a bit lost, the novice monk said, "But if the Taoist from the neighboring Taoist Temple goes down the mountain to save people, wouldn’t it make us seem... make us seem a bit..."
"They won’t," said the Abbot: "Before The Old Monk joined the Buddhist Sect, I was part of the Daoist Sect. Don’t I know what kind of people they are?"
"Uh..."
The decision made by the Temple Abbot was not wrong; the Observatory Master from a Taoist Temple not far from them had made the exact same choice.
There were devout Cultivators from both the Buddhist and Daoist Sects, and in considerable numbers.
But within the Great Zhou Imperial City, this vast melting pot,
even with a heart full of piety, they would be ground down by time, assimilated by others. It held true for Monks just as it did for Taoists. They, too, believed they were right—without a bit of prudence, how could their lineages endure for a thousand years, or even several millennia?
In times like these, only Cultivators from outside the city might intervene and help some of the people within the Imperial City,
Engaging fiercely with the disciples of the Blood Gu Sect.
...
"Dammit all!" exclaimed a burly Monk wielding a Zen Staff, dripping with oil from his mouth, as he flung a disciple of the Blood Gu Sect through the air with a swing of his staff.
After spitting out a mouthful of bloody sputum, he cursed through gritted teeth: "I barely arrived in the Imperial City, looking forward to some rest and a good meal of meat, but nothing’s peaceful."
"Why such unlucky fortune—mocked while striking the city walls and then encountering this mess the moment I set foot in the Imperial City?"
