Simultaneous traversal: All Abyss difficulty.

Chapter 479 The Azure Heaven is dead! The Yellow Heaven shall rise!
"Ah! My eyes!"

"It's burning! It's burning me to death!"

Caught off guard, the constables were smeared with hot porridge, screaming in pain as their knives clattered and fell to the ground.

Zhao De was also splashed with rice, his official robe covered in sticky grains. He was so angry that he jumped up and down, yelling, "Rebellion! Rebellion! Kill him!"

Fang Yu had gone all out, waving his hands wildly, pouring out white porridge like a torrential rain, knocking the constables off their feet!

Upon seeing this, the disaster victims finally erupted in cheers: "The gods have appeared! The gods have appeared!"

Zhao De's beady eyes widened, his fat face trembling with shock: "This porridge really appeared out of thin air?!" He watched as the white porridge gushing from Fang Yu's palm sent the constables staggering about, the thick rice soup dripping down the knife and accumulating in a steaming white puddle on the sand.

The constables were terrified. One of the young constables immediately knelt down and kowtowed repeatedly to Fang Yu, saying, "Immortal, spare my life! I was blind and didn't recognize your greatness!"

Another constable, his face flushed red from the burn, trembled as he tugged at Zhao De's official robe: "S-Sir...this must be a real deity!"

"Bullshit!" Zhao De kicked the constable away, oily sweat mixed with white porridge dripping from his double chin.

A glint of malice flashed in his triangular eyes!
Although the responsibility for disaster relief grain cannot be shifted, if this eccentric who can make white porridge can be presented to the imperial court, the emperor might be pleased and I could even be promoted three ranks!

Thinking of this, he suddenly pulled out the iron plaque from his waist and slammed it on the ground: "Whoever captures this demon will receive a six-month raise!"

"Half, half a year?"

The constables couldn't have a full meal every day during that year, so the temptation of a six-month pay raise was too great.

As for talking about gods and immortals, what does that have to do with them?
Enticed by the generous reward, the previously timid constables suddenly became greedy and grabbed their steel knives, which were covered in porridge, to charge forward again!

"Protect the Great Immortal!" The eldest woman in the refugee group suddenly roared, grabbed the wooden stick she used for pounding porridge, and rushed out!

Her shout was like igniting a powder keg, and the starving refugees instantly rioted!

An old man with a cane swung a stone at the constable's knee, a child who was as thin as a skeleton grabbed the constable's leg and bit him, and more than a dozen women grabbed sand and threw it at the constable's face!
The broken bowls and earthenware jars that were kneeling on the ground to receive porridge just moments ago have now become weapons, clanging and banging against the iron knife!

"They've rebelled! They've all rebelled!" Zhao De retreated in panic on his horse, only to see the dark mass of refugees surging towards him like a tidal wave.

A constable had just slashed down two refugees when he was suddenly pinned to the ground by three or four burly men, who then smashed stones against his forehead!

Fang Yu was stunned. He never expected that his casual act of giving out porridge would be met with such desperate protection.

Seeing the refugees shielding him from the knife with their own bodies, his eyes welled up with tears, and he suddenly roared, "Get out of the way!" He pointed both palms at the densest part of the crowd.
“Wow——!!!”

Two torrents of white congee soared into the sky like giant dragons, scalding hot rice porridge pouring over the heads of the constables!
Some people were knocked backward by the shovel, their official boots slipping in the muddy porridge; others covered their eyes and wailed, hot porridge pouring down their collars and into their clothes.

The worst off was a bearded constable who was yelling and cursing when he was sprayed with a mouthful of white porridge. He was coughing so hard that he had to kneel down and dry heave!

Zhao De finally panicked and turned his horse around to flee.

The horse's hind legs got tangled in a tattered fishing net thrown by the refugees, startling it so much that it reared up and threw its fat body heavily into the porridge pit!

"Take down the corrupt official!" someone shouted, and the refugees swarmed forward.

Zhao De thrashed about in the sticky porridge, his official hat long gone, his meticulously groomed beard covered in rice grains, making him look like a fat rat that had fallen into a flour vat.

Fang Yu walked forward, panting heavily, with residual rice water still dripping from his palm.

He squatted down and grinned at Zhao De, whose face was covered in porridge: "Sir, do you believe I can turn into plain porridge now?"

As night fell, several bonfires were lit by the earthen wall of Dongcun. In the firelight, Zhao De, who was tied up like a dumpling, and eight constables with bruised and swollen faces huddled in the corner. The bodies of four other constables were covered with straw mats, with the stiff tips of several boots showing.

The air was filled with the stench of blood and the lingering aroma of porridge, creating a strange, sweet-smelling odor.

A dozen or so villagers sat around the fire, their broken bowls licked clean, yet they stared intently at Fang Yu, as if he would disappear at any moment.

In the shadows of the trees in the distance, several daring men from other villages gripped wooden sticks, neither daring to approach the corpse nor willing to leave.

After all, there aren't many living gods who can provide enough food these days.

"Great Immortal!" The oldest man in the village, Old Man Xu, suddenly knelt down with a thud, his forehead hitting the sand heavily. "We killed the officials, which is a crime punishable by the extermination of the entire clan!" His withered voice sounded like dry leaves rubbing together, causing the other villagers to tremble.

A woman's baby suddenly cried, but she hurriedly covered its mouth.

Fang Yu stared at the crackling firewood in the fire, his Adam's apple bobbing.

He certainly knew the seriousness of the situation.

I didn't think much about it during the day when I was caught up in the heat of the moment, but now, looking at those corpses, a wave of fear washes over me.

How harsh were ancient laws? According to the "Great Ming Code," even stealing a cabbage could result in exile for three thousand miles, let alone killing an official.

"What's there to be afraid of!" The dark-faced Aunt Zhang suddenly kicked over the porridge bucket, which rolled to Zhao De's feet, startling the county magistrate. "We're going to starve to death anyway, might as well follow the fortune teller and try our luck!" She grabbed the knife the constable had dropped; the porridge residue on the blade still gleamed. "So what! So what!"

"Coco is an official," muttered the lame Wang Er, shrugging his neck, his eyes glancing at Fang Yu's palm, where life-saving porridge had spewed out during the day.

Fang Yu suddenly stood up, startling everyone into silence.

He walked up to Zhao De and squatted down. "Lord Zhao, tell me, can we settle this privately? I'll release you, and you'll release us?"

Before he could finish speaking, Zhao De began to struggle violently, the rope digging into his fat flesh and causing oil and sweat to seep out.

Zhao De's eyes darted around, and a fawning smile spread across his face: "What you say is true, Immortal Master! This official—no, no, no, I certainly won't hold these things against you. Just let us go—no, just let me go alone. I'm like brothers with these constables. They're hostages. As long as this matter doesn't come to light, you can spare their lives. But if I expose this, then you can kill me."

"Click~"

As he spoke, he stole glances at Fang Yu's expression, his thick hands secretly rubbing the knot of the hemp rope behind his back.

Fang Yu stared at him for a long time, then suddenly grinned and said, "Okay." He then actually untied him.

The villagers were skeptical, but Fang Yu waved his hand and said, "Let Lord Zhao go back to the county office alone."

The night was as dark as ink. Zhao De, clutching the hem of his official robe, ran frantically, his flabby waist swaying greasy waves in the moonlight. When he reached the fork in the road, he was panting heavily, thinking that he was about to escape.

He rushed back to the county government office that very night, and when he shouted, he found that apart from the maid, there wasn't a single constable left.

Then he realized that he only had so few soldiers under his command, and they had all been lost to those crazy villagers!
Thinking it over, he quickly wrote a letter, writing furiously for half an hour before handing it to the maid.

"Send this to the prefect immediately! Hurry, hurry, hurry!"

After watching the maid leave, Zhao De finally had a chance to drink some water and rest for a while.

Suddenly a loud shout woke him up.

Just as he was about to yell at someone, he suddenly realized that there were quite a few people standing at his window!

A group of refugees wielding sticks!

"That corrupt official really did cheat!" Aunt Zhang, with her dark face, pointed at Zhao De with a stick.

Old Xu, standing to the side, waved the letter in his hand: "I knew you were up to no good. What is this?"

As he spoke, the old man handed the letter to Fang Yu.

But Fang Yu was dumbfounded when he unfolded the yellow hemp paper.
Those flamboyant calligraphy characters looked like scribbles to him.

He could even make out the general idea of ​​traditional Chinese characters.

I really can't understand this Eastern Han calligraphy.

The surrounding refugees passed it around and shook their heads: "We can't even draw our surnames neatly."

In the end, they had to invite an old "scholar" from a private school in the city to read the letters overnight.

In the imperial court, Fang Yu sat upright, Zhao De sat below him, and refugees sat on either side.

The once high and mighty master was now kneeling.

The private tutor, twitching his goatee, spent half the night piecing together the letter, which had been broken down into individual characters. Suddenly, his face turned deathly pale: "East Village is truly a bandit's den. They killed more than ten government officials and robbed three thousand shi of imperial grain."

Fang Yu was surprised that the old man was quite clever and managed to spell out the words, but it didn't matter anymore.

After all, there were so many people present when the constable was killed.

He didn't expect these refugees to keep quiet.

Fang Yu sneered upon hearing this, grabbed the letter, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it at Zhao De: "You think I'm being too nice to you? Fine! Then... don't blame me!"

Under the moonlight, Zhao De was tied up like a dumpling and hung from a crooked tree, making muffled noises, with oily sweat dripping from the soles of his official boots.

Zhao De, in a desperate act, shouted, "You bunch of starving bastards! When the imperial court finds out about these things, every single one of you will be torn to pieces! Do you know what a crime it is to murder an official?! Do you know what a crime it is to kill a constable and a county magistrate?"

"Heh, so what if you know, so what if you don't?" Fang Yu immediately kicked Zhao De, making the guy wince in pain.

Fang Yu turned to the gathered refugees and raised his bowl of porridge: "I know you're with me because you want to drink porridge, you want to have food, and you want to fill your stomachs."

"It doesn't matter!"

"I do not care!"

"Now, I'm going to make things clear to you."

"If this bastard doesn't die, we're definitely going to die."

"But killing him won't do any good. There were too many people that day; there was no shortage of scoundrels trying to make a quick buck by selling porridge!"

"So, we're all going to die anyway, and none of us can escape responsibility!"

"But today, I promise you."

"Follow me, plain porridge."

"Enough!"

Seeing the excitement on the faces of the refugees, Fang Yu added fuel to the fire!

"The blue sky is dead! The yellow sky shall be established!"

"That damned emperor let so many people starve to death in the wilderness; he doesn't deserve to be emperor!"

"kill!"

"kill!!!"

Fang Yu roared with bloodshot eyes, leaving the refugees dumbfounded.
After saying everything, he turned around and walked straight away.

And then, behind them, came the sound of "plop plop".

Of course, they were not doing anything improper to Magistrate Zhao De.

Instead, a red knife goes in and a red knife comes out.

Coincidentally, Fang Yu had a dream that night.

He saw himself as the Hokage, wearing the Turtle Hermitage training uniform, on a pirate ship.
"Hey bro, wake up! Where are you?! Holy crap, is this some kind of mythical Three Kingdoms?!"

"What?! You're going to form the Yellow Turban Army?!"

(End of this chapter)