I become a god in another world

Chapter 792 Past Regrets
Chapter 792

Amidst the rumbling of the wheels, an old man shouted hoarsely:

"Time to collect manure, time to collect manure."

Two figures slowly emerged from the thick fog.

The leader was a ragged old man with a frosty face and a sorrowful expression.

The wrinkles on his face seemed to be marks etched by life itself.

His mouth drooped, his eyebrows were sparse, and he looked harsh and fierce, with a lifeless gaze.

A boy with a terrified expression followed behind him, unable to hide his sorrow but trying to remain calm.

The two left the city at the same time.

The old man was fierce and savage in front of the boy, but he bowed and scraped before the soldiers guarding the city.

After leaving the city, the two carefully chose a corner to stop and push the cart.

Several stinking jars were placed on the vehicle, and a woman who had long since died was curled up in a corner.

The old man directed the boy to carry the woman's body off the vehicle, and the boy, suppressing his grief, agreed to everything.

"Let's quickly dig a hole and bury your mother before dawn," the old man said hurriedly.

"There are three mulberry trees here. They were planted by someone who was ordered by the imperial court to raise silkworms."

At that time, the imperial court issued a policy stating that the capital was not suitable for silkworm farming, and the practice of silkworm farming never took hold.

However, even if ordinary people did not raise silkworms, this mulberry tax was still established, becoming one of the sources of taxation weighing on the people.

This is also why the Han Dynasty had so many exorbitant taxes and levies: the court could make a decision at any moment, but the people below would have to run themselves ragged.

Later, as officials issued policies one after another, these policies were abandoned once the officials left, leaving only the burden on the people that could not be relieved.

The old man kept rambling on:

“This mulberry tree has been neglected, and no one dares to dig here. Burying it here is the safest option, and no one will find it in a short time.”

As he spoke, the paper figure Zhang's voice rang out in sudden realization:

"So my mother was buried here."

In his youth, he lived a muddled and aimless life, and under his father's control, he hastily buried his mother.

Over the years, he has suffered greatly from life's hardships. Time has changed everything, smoothing out the faint undulations of his mother's grave.

Resentment gnawed at his soul, causing him to later forget his mother's grave.

Fearing being discovered, the father and son buried their mother that day, but he didn't even have time to kowtow. For the next few years, he dared not openly pay his respects, and over time, it became a lifelong regret for him.

……

At this moment, a vengeful ghost chases after him, and time rewinds. He returns to his 'former' homeland, sees his mother being buried, and witnesses the 'boy' from his memories hurriedly leaving with tears in his eyes. Many years later, the paper figure Zhang finally has the chance to kneel before his mother's grave and solemnly kowtow nine times.

The ghost's footprints continued forward.

We arrived at the old ancestral hall of the Zang family.

Zhao Fusheng had been here before due to the law of reincarnation, and he immediately recognized it as the old Zang family ancestral hall from 59 years ago.

According to Zhang Chuanshi, this road was repaired by Zang Xiongwu when he was young because Aunt Hu from next door had fallen here because the road was in such bad condition that she had been bedridden for a long time.

She arrived at this time just in time because of the law of reincarnation.

Zhang Chuanshi's voice, appearance, and smile appeared in her mind, and she was momentarily moved.

Zhao Fusheng vaguely understood why Zang Xiongwu wanted to return to this place.

This time, she didn't revisit the 'old path' with her partners, but instead followed the mastermind behind this series of major cases, returning to the past through his eyes.

In the narrow, dark alley, Paper Man Zhang and Zhao Fusheng walked silently toward the former courtyard of the Zang family ancestral hall.

For the two who were now reunited with their lost souls and reminiscing about their past lives, they were fully aware of what would happen next in the courtyard.

Zang Xiongwu stood in front of the courtyard gate.

The courtyard gate was tightly closed, and black smoke accompanied by the smell of blood was escaping from the cracks in the gate.

The deceased picking up their feet and time rewinding is not a true reversal of time.

In Zhao Fusheng's view, all of this is just a memory reflected in people's consciousness.

Memories are naturally tasteless.

But the events of that day were so tragic that they left Paper Man Zhang with a painful past, and the smell of blood was etched into his very bones, leaving a deep impression on him.

Zang Xiongwu remained silent for a long time.

'Thump thump thump.' The sound of hurried footsteps rang out, and a figure swept past him, pushing open the small courtyard gate of the Zang family's old ancestral hall with a 'bang'.

The entrance was shrouded in a ghostly mist, and beneath it lay an endless abyss.

Zhao Fusheng and others were in the Samsara Realm.

Outside the door, besides the young Zang Xiongwu, there were two other people who had come from the other side of the Yellow Springs of Hell observing this scene.

The first thing that caught their eye was a dilapidated little boat.

An old boatman on the boat, whose body was glowing, had been resurrected as a vengeful ghost.

Even though Zhao Fusheng had personally experienced this scene, when he returned to the place and saw the moment Zhang Chuanshi died, he still felt a slight pain in his heart.

Zang Xiongwu walked slowly forward and stood in front of his former self, looking at the boatman.

"When I entered hell, the moment I drank the Meng Po soup, those 'people' I had interacted with before reappeared in front of me, and they accused and cursed me."

He smiled slightly:
"My mother scolded me for treating her unfairly."

Death ends all suffering; she had a bad life and was hastily buried after her death.

As time went by, the graves disappeared, and descendants could no longer pay their respects.

“My brother blames me for breaking my promise, and Wenqing blames me for not protecting my son.”

Sun Shaoyin and others blamed him for bringing disaster upon himself, while Zang Xiongshan blamed him for ruining his life.

……

Faced with accusations, Zang Xiongwu remained unmoved:

"This world is one where the strong bully the weak; whoever has the bigger fist gets to speak." His tone, surprisingly, lacked its usual resentment and had become much calmer.
"When I was bullied, I could only endure it silently, and eventually I strengthened myself and stood up for myself."

He said:
"So what do their deaths have to do with me? They were weaker than me, so they deserved it."

As he said this, he put his hands into his sleeves, a mocking look on his face.

Zhao Fusheng pursed his lips, swallowing back the profanities that were swirling in his mouth.

Zang Xiongwu then said:
"I thought the Legend of Mir would also criticize me."

At this point, the corner of his mouth twitched, his calm expression faltered slightly, and his tone of voice became somewhat uneven:
"me--"

But he ultimately suppressed his thoughts and said:

"But he eventually told me that he was not a coward."

At that moment, Zhang Chuanshi's words shocked Zang Xiongwu.

"Zhao Fusheng, is all of this due to the effects of the Meng Po soup?" he asked.

“No.” Zhao Fusheng shook his head:

"The last thing Old Zhang said to me before he died was, 'I'm not a coward.'"

As soon as she finished speaking, Zang Xiongwu fell into a long silence.

The father and son faced each other across the small courtyard. The distance was not far, but it was already a separation of life and death.

The two met that day, but did not recognize each other.

In his youth, Zang Xiongwu was unaware of what would happen later, nor did he understand the cause and effect; he only knew anger.

Decades later, seeing such a tragic ending, one wonders what he must have thought.

Zhao Fusheng was suddenly filled with emotion:
"Zang Xiongwu, do you regret it?"

"Regret?" Zang Xiongwu countered, not directly answering Zhao Fusheng's question, but instead smiling:

"Zhao Fusheng, do you think I was wrong?"

“You’re wrong,” Zhao Fusheng nodded.

"Hehe." Zang Xiongwu chuckled twice and said:
"Throughout history, there has never been a father who has been wrong in his dealings with his son."

As soon as he finished speaking, the ghost ship drifted eerily in the abyss.

The boatman steerer of the ghost ship seemed to sense where the two stood and slowly drifted towards them. A distance separated them. The moment Paper Man Zhang saw his elderly son approaching in the boat, although he stubbornly refused to admit his mistake to Zhao Fusheng, in that instant, his eyes brightened, his lips curled slightly, and his hand, hidden in his sleeve, moved, involuntarily reaching out towards Zhang Chuanshi—

The boatman did not approach him.

After the vengeful ghost revived, the person's consciousness had already dissipated.

Zhang Chuanshi, who spent his entire life seeking his father's forgiveness and approval, finally found solace for his soul before his death.

A smile froze on the boatman's face as he steered the ghost ship slowly toward Zhao Fusheng.

The abyss lay beneath Zhao Fusheng's feet. A boatman, his boat glowing brightly, steered a ghost ship around her, as if he regarded her as the other shore of his soul where he could dock.

At that moment, Zang Xiongwu's smile froze on his face.

The light in his eyes faded at a visible speed, and he felt an indescribable sense of loss.

After a while, he composed himself, forced himself to straighten his back, and raised his head.

But the blow he suffered at this moment was self-evident.

His gaze fell on Zhang Chuanshi, and he sneered twice:

"Since you don't acknowledge me, I have nothing to miss."

After he finished speaking, he said:
"Let's go!"

Finally, he turned his head without hesitation.

In that instant when he turned his head, his shoulders slumped, and he seemed to have aged considerably in a moment.

Zhao Fusheng stood there for a moment, and finally let out a soft sigh.

The judgment of the underworld is clear at a glance.

No matter how stubborn you are or how many explanations you make during your life, and even if you can fool everyone, some things cannot be suppressed or hidden.

……

As Zang Xiongwu stepped out of the Zang family courtyard, the ghostly mist instantly enveloped the two of them.

Another footprint appeared in front of him, and he stepped into it.

The moment they stepped on it, the mist dissipated, and the two appeared in a wilderness.

"here--"

Zang Xiongwu was stunned. After a long while, he sighed deeply.

"I remembered."

As soon as he finished speaking, a solitary grave appeared before their eyes.

The grave had no tombstone, no plaque, and no name.

There were remnants of unburnt paper money in front of the grave, and three incense sticks stood at the top of the grave, already burned to the bottom.

Zang Xiongwu stood before the grave, silent for a long time.

“This is the grave of my brother, Rakshasa.”

This is also one of the knots in Zhang the Paper Doll's heart.

"Did you bury the Rakshasa back then?" Zhao Fusheng asked.

Zang Xiongwu nodded.

"I buried his headless body here." Perhaps it was because he had a lot to say all these years.

In his heart, he resented the world and despised people; he wouldn't even bother talking to ordinary people.

Those who could speak with him back then have all died.

His only surviving son treated him like a stranger, and later, he had no one to talk to.

At this moment, Zhao Fusheng struck up a conversation with him, which piqued his interest in talking:

"Before my brother died, he told me that he had killed the officials and the people from the Demon Suppression Bureau and would definitely be beheaded."

At that time, people believed in burying the entire body.

"He asked me to sew up his body and bury him, saying he could never repay such a debt, and that it was something he owed me—"

Zang Xiongwu smiled slightly as he said this.

This cold, sinister, and murderous ghost actually showed a hint of emotion in his eyes:

"Unfortunately, I didn't succeed in the end. As you know, I used his head for something else."

“My family suffered a great upheaval, and I was determined to seek revenge. I think if my brother were alive, he would understand me,” he said.

Zhao Fusheng said:

"Your revenge has implicated too many innocent people. Rakshasa is clear about his grudges and is not on the same path as you."

Paper Man Zhang smiled, then suddenly reached up and twisted his head—with a 'crack' sound of a broken neck, he broke off a piece of his own head and held it in his hands.

Strangely, there was another head on his neck, and this face was his true appearance.

He stepped forward and placed the head before the Rakshasa's tomb:
"Good brother, here you go."

The moment the head hit the ground, it quickly decomposed, turning into black ash and merging into the soil.

The paper figure Zhang's face turned deathly pale in an instant, as if his condition had deteriorated drastically the moment his head was severed from his body and hit the ground.

But at this moment, it was as if a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders. When he stood up again, his shoulders, which had been hunched forward, straightened up considerably.

"Let's go."

He said:

"There's one more place I want to go."

A footprint silently appeared before him. He held his head high and slowly stepped into it.

Time flies.

The two once again walked down the familiar alleyway.

Inside the old Zang family ancestral hall, the two stopped in front of a dilapidated doorway.

It was still dark, and many of the neighbors of the Zang Family Ancestral Hall had not yet gotten up.

Zhao Fusheng recognized the dilapidated wooden door:

"At Aunt Hu's house?"

"Correct."

Upon hearing this, Paper Man Zhang revealed a relaxed and contented smile.

Time is merciless, and once gone, it never returns.

In such a world, ordinary people struggle to survive, and in fifty or sixty years, everything has changed.

Many familiar faces have passed away, and few people know of Aunt Hu's existence anymore.

Upon seeing this scene, Zhao Fusheng was able to identify Aunt Hu's house, which made Paper Man Zhang extremely happy and further aroused his interest in conversation.

"Aunt Hu, has my son mentioned it to you?" he asked casually.

"mentioned."

Zhao Fusheng nodded:
"They said she broke her leg earlier, and her husband didn't care about her. You fixed the road for her, and your wife often brings her food to serve her."

"Yes."

Paper Doll Zhang Dao:

“We are neighbors and have lived together for many years. She watched Chuanshi being born and growing up, and we usually greet each other.”

He paused for a moment after saying this:

"After the tragedy that befell my family, I immediately entered the Ghost Realm—"

Zhao Fusheng knew what happened afterward, so he didn't go into details, only saying:

"At that time, I hated evil spirits and wanted to eradicate all ghosts in the world."

Zhao Fusheng laughed upon hearing this:

"You're a ghost too."

As she spoke, a scene suddenly flashed into her mind that she and her companions had witnessed at the entrance to the seventeenth level of hell: the phantom of Paper Man Zhang walked into the seventeenth level of hell and slashed at her former self with a knife.

(End of this chapter)