Courtyard Houses: Longevity Since the War of Resistance

Upon entering Nanshi, the god of deception struck again, rewriting the perceptions of over 40,000 Japanese soldiers, who then assembled at the city gate.

Matsui Iwane was drinking tea in the headquarters. Halfway through his cup, he stood up, put on his military jacket, strapped on his sword, and walked out. The guards at the door were already standing in two rows, staring at him blankly. No one spoke; they all turned and marched in unison.

And so, the Japanese soldiers gathered from all corners of Nanjing to the gate. Looking at the dark, surging crowd, I smiled.

Everyone had arrived, and the crowd stopped about fifty meters away from me.

More than 40,000 people crowded the gate, and Matsui Iwane, surrounded by his personal guards, walked out of the crowd.

His face was grim, because he didn't know why he was there. He only remembered that he was just at headquarters a moment ago, and the next second he was here, surrounded by so many people.

He looked at me.

"Who are you?" Matsui Iwane asked in broken Chinese, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

Looking at him, the man who ordered the massacre of the city in 1937. In his sixties, short and stout, bald, wearing round glasses, he looked like an old scholar. But I knew that what flowed in his veins was not blood, but the innocent souls of 300,000 Chinese people.

"Me?" I smiled. "I'm here to collect a debt."

"Collecting debts?"

"Yes." I pointed at him, then at the more than 40,000 Japanese soldiers around me, "to collect the debt for the 300,000 people who died at your hands in the winter of 1937."

Matsui Iwane paused for two seconds, and then...

Hahahaha!

He laughed, laughing so hard he was doubled over, tears streaming down his face. The Japanese officers around him laughed along, their laughter echoing through the city, jarring and deafening.

He laughed for a full half minute before wiping the corner of his eye.

"Just you alone?" He tilted his head, looking at me like I was a madman. "One person, trying to avenge those 300,000 pigs?"

He paused, his smile turning sinister: "Let me tell you, those Chinese are just pigs. What's the difference between killing 300,000 and killing 300,000 pigs? You..."

He hadn't finished speaking.

I raised my hand.

With a snap of my fingers, the terrain of the Earth Intimates was altered. Centered on me, walls rose up around me like an inverted bowl, enveloping me and over 40,000 Japanese soldiers. The buildings were moved back collectively, otherwise the space would not have been large enough.

Octagonal cage, now complete.

Today, it's either the Japanese devils die or I live; it's either me or the Japanese devils die.

Matsui Iwane's laughter stopped abruptly. He looked around and reached out to touch the wall.

"What is this?!" He turned around and glared at me.

"Duel in the Octagon!" I slowly drew the greatsword from my back. "One against five, one against five, all of you come at me together, all of you come at me together, I'm in a hurry."

Perfect! The combination of the two songs is amazing. I'm a genius. I'll reward myself and not leave them with a complete corpse.

Matsui Iwane realized something was wrong. He was alone, facing an army of 40,000, and instead of running away, he used a magical method to lock everyone together.

This person is either crazy, or...

He roared, "Capture him alive! I need to know his secrets!"

His chance had come. He wanted to return to the pinnacle of power on the island, a position Matsui also wanted to hold.

The Japanese soldiers in the front row walked forward cautiously, guns raised, but one of them had a sudden inspiration and aimed at my leg. A loud bang, followed by a clanging sound.

Matsui Iwane was at the very back; he was short and couldn't see, but when he heard the gunshot, he cursed, "Who fired? I want him alive!"

But the adjutant beside him pointed forward with a trembling finger, "General...General...General."

Matsui Iwane's mouth was open, and his eyes behind his glasses were wide open.

"You...you..." he pointed at me, "What kind of sorcery is this?!"

"This isn't sorcery." I grinned. "It's called the Golden Light Spell. I originally wanted to fight you guys as an ordinary person, but I'm not going to pretend anymore. I'm laying my cards on the table; I'm a cheater."

After saying that, he gripped the hilt of the knife tightly with his right hand and pulled it out sharply.

*Zheng!*

The blade sang like a dragon's roar, and red and blue killing intent exploded. The moment it was fully drawn, the blade's energy burst forth.

The dozens of Japanese soldiers standing behind me froze before they could even react.

Then, *plop plop plop plop plop!* The body was cleanly severed at the waist.

His upper body slid down, but his lower body remained standing. Blood gushed out like dozens of fountains simultaneously, tracing a bizarre arc before splashing down.

What a crimson rainbow!

The body fell to the ground, its internal organs spilling out, and the remaining Japanese soldiers were all dumbfounded.

They saw their companion suddenly split in two, they only saw me draw my sword, and then they just died like that??

"You... youkai!"

"Run!"

run?

The octagonal cage blocked their way, preventing them from getting out.

"Don't waste your time." I walked forward, sword in hand. "I told you, this is a dueling arena. Either you kill me, or..."

The blade was raised, pointing at Matsui Iwane.

"I will kill you all."

Matsui Iwane shuddered; I could smell the stench of urine.

He wet his pants.

The executioner who ordered the massacre of the city, the commander who swaggered around in the South City, was so terrified by real death that he wet his pants.

"Kill...kill him!" Matsui Iwane screamed, his voice trembling. "Everyone! Fire! Fire the cannons! Use whatever you can! Kill him!"

The Japanese soldiers have gone mad.

Rifles, machine guns, mortars.

Bullets, shells, grenades.

Tap tap, boom boom, ding ding ding.

The clanging sound was my voice. The Golden Light Mantra still couldn't withstand such a powerful impact and shattered.

But I'm not afraid. I walk through the smoke from the shells; as the saying goes, "smoke doesn't hurt you."

"Monster...monster..." a Japanese soldier murmured.

"Keep fighting! Keep fighting!" Matsui Iwane screamed.

He dashed to the front of the Japanese troops with Shadow Step and unleashed a simple horizontal slash.

The blade flashed.

Ten heads flew off at the same time, but it wasn't over yet. I charged straight into the Japanese horde, my blade flashing like a whirlwind.

Beheading, severing at the waist, splitting at the chest, severing arms.

Ordinary swordsmanship, pure slashing, one strike, one life.

The blade grew hotter and hotter, its killing intent boiling, and the clanging sound of the blade grew louder and louder, like the roar of a wild beast. After several days of nurturing, the blade finally tasted blood.

Corpses piled up at their feet, blood up to their ankles, and the Japanese soldiers began to fear. Tens of thousands of them surrounded one enemy and attacked him relentlessly, bullets couldn't kill him, artillery shells couldn't destroy him, and bayonets couldn't penetrate him.

This man, wielding a knife, harvested their lives like a harvester, and the Japanese soldiers turned to run.

"No retreat!" Matsui Iwane roared. "Anyone who retreats will be killed without mercy!"

Matsui Iwane's supervisory team opened fire, killing several deserters. The remaining Japanese soldiers were forced back, their eyes red, howling as they charged forward.

I laughed. I've killed a few hundred people; the warm-up's over. Now, it's time to get serious.

Hold the knife with both hands, holding the blade horizontally.

The first of the Six Secrets of Aohan is a glimpse of startling coldness, the simplest sword move.

He leaped into the air, looking down from a great height.

Below, the Japanese soldiers were densely packed together, like ants.

Hold the knife with both hands and raise it above your head.

then.

cut!

The blade, with the force to split mountains and cleave peaks, slashed down with all its might from a height of thirty meters.

boom!!!!!!"

The blade's energy slammed into the ground, blasting open a 50-meter-long, 3-meter-deep trench. Wherever the trench passed, the Japanese soldiers were as if struck by an invisible giant hammer, their bodies exploding, flesh and blood flying everywhere.

With a single stroke, a clearing was created.

In the center of the open space, the ditch was filled with bits of flesh and entrails, and blood flowed downhill like a stream.

I landed and stood on the edge of the ravine.

The blade touched the ground, causing it to crack and freeze. Frost spread along the crevices, freezing the flesh inside into dark red ice shards.

The surroundings were deathly silent. The Japanese soldiers had never seen such swordsmanship before. With a single slash, they carved out a bloody trench that froze into an ice river.

The second of the Six Secrets of Braving the Cold is to freeze three feet of ice.

The chill spread wildly from me, and within a fifty-meter radius, the moisture in the air condensed. Frost spread across the ground, climbed onto the bodies of the Japanese soldiers, froze gun barrels, froze triggers, and even their breath condensed into ice crystals in the air.

"It's so cold!"

"I can't move my leg!"

Within fifty meters, thousands of Japanese soldiers were frozen in place, like ice sculptures.

I raised the knife, and the blade trembled.

boom!

The ice sculptures shattered simultaneously, exploding thousands of frozen corpses into a shower of ice shards and bits of flesh. Blood froze into red crystals in mid-air, falling like a blood-red snowfall.

Red snow fell on the heads and shoulders of the other Japanese soldiers. They watched as blood-red ice crystals fell from the sky, and as their comrades, who had just been alive, turned into pieces on the ground.

collapsed.

"vomit!!!"

"Run! Run!"

"Help!"

The remaining 30,000-plus people began to flee. But the octagon I built was only so big, and they ran around like headless flies, trampling, pushing, and shooting at each other.

I chased after him.

The third of the Six Secrets of Aohan: Red Apricot Over the Wall.

He slashed at the Japanese soldiers in front of him, but the blade suddenly dipped before making contact, grazing their ankles.

Click!

Their legs were all severed, and hundreds of Japanese soldiers fell to the ground screaming in agony. The blade slashed upwards, cutting across the groin of one of the Japanese soldiers.

puff!

From groin to top, a single cut cleaves the enemy in two. The third cut circles back, slashing at the Japanese soldier on the side.

The Japanese soldiers on the flank thought I was going to attack from the front, so they were completely unprepared.

With a flash of light, seven or eight hundred heads flew off at the same time.

I sheathed my sword and looked at the densely packed crowd, where at least ten thousand people were desperately climbing over the ten-meter-high wall.

Laughed.

The fourth of the Six Secrets of Braving the Cold: The Peach Tree in Full Bloom.

Step back ten paces, retract the blade, and expand the area.

A single sweeping slash wasn't just one blade of energy, but a hundred.

A hundred blue blades of energy spread out in a fan shape, each ten meters long and as wide as a door. Wherever the energy passed, the Japanese soldiers were shredded like wheat cut by a sickle.

One strike, and half the field was cleared. Fifteen thousand people were reduced to a pile of ice shards.

The octagon suddenly felt much emptier. There were about 16,000 surviving Japanese soldiers. Their eyes shifted from fear to despair. From despair to madness.

"Shatter the jade!" someone roared.

"Long live His Majesty the Emperor!"

In a final frenzy, I took a deep breath and unleashed the fifth technique of the Six Arts of Aohan: Seeking Plum Blossoms in the Snow.

I charged into the crowd, my blade flashing like lightning. Each flash claimed dozens of lives. Not one life at a time, but a whole swath.

The blade flashed, and more than a dozen people were cut in half at the waist.

The back of the knife struck, shattering the skulls of dozens of people.

The blade moved faster and faster, the flashes of light becoming increasingly dense.

In the end, he was completely enveloped in the light of the blade, like a spinning meat grinder, bursting out clouds of blood wherever he went.

I will fight my way from south to north, from darkness to light, and I will make the Japanese see me and piss themselves.

Three bloody paths were left behind, littered with corpses; there were still 6,000 Japanese soldiers alive.

In the distance, many Japanese soldiers began to commit seppuku and swallow gunshots to commit suicide. I looked up at Matsui Iwane, who was already unsteady on his feet and was being supported by his adjutant; his legs were trembling.

It looks like this guy peed again.

I grinned and smiled.

Then he raised his sword, unleashing the sixth technique of the Six Arts of Aohan: Cold Blade, Ice Heart.

The knife is cold.

I feel cold.

My heart is cold.

Hold the knife with both hands and raise it above your head.

All the light on the blade receded, turning it pitch black, like a black hole that devours all light.

The killing intent becomes material.

Centered on me, a black aura of killing intent enveloped the entire octagonal cage. Wherever the killing intent passed, the temperature dropped to absolute zero, the air froze, and the light distorted.

The surviving Japanese soldiers felt as if their hearts were being gripped by an icy hand.

Breathing has stopped.

Blood freezes.

Thoughts become stagnant.

"Heaven-Slaying Sword Drawing Technique!!!"

With the Cold Blade and Icy Heart combined with the Heaven-Slaying Sword Technique, he swung his blade across the entire space.

The blade flashed like a thread, as thin as a hair, as black as an abyss, slicing through the air, through corpses, through the living, through walls, and through the ground.

The entire octagonal cage was frozen in place, the wind stopped, the ashes hung in the air, the blood congealed, and the surviving Japanese soldiers froze, speechless.

More than 6,000 Japanese soldiers turned to ashes at the same time. Their last sensation before death was that their bodies were frozen, but their consciousness was still very clear. Then, their flesh was cut apart bit by bit by countless blades. They watched as the parts of themselves that were cut turned to ashes, but they were powerless to do anything about it. All of this happened in three seconds, but in their minds, this one cut was thousands of years.

He sheathed his sword; the blade was jet black, not a drop of blood on it. Looking up, he saw only Matsui Iwane remaining in the octagonal cage.

Forty thousand Japanese soldiers, all wiped out. He drew his sword and walked towards Matsui Iwane. His footsteps pounded in the blood.

Matsui Iwane was stunned, muttering, "Monster, monster."

I walked over and stepped on his face.

"When you gave that order in the winter of 1937, did you think about today?"

Matsui Iwane trembled all over and couldn't speak.

"Three hundred thousand," I continued, "We only got forty thousand today, so we still need two hundred and sixty thousand."

"But it's okay."

"It still exists in Zhejiang Province, in North China, in Northeast China, throughout China, and throughout the world."

"I will kill them one by one."

With one kick, I lifted Matsui Iwane up. "Let the people of Nanshi decide your fate." Then, with a snap of my fingers, he was stunned. I wove a beautiful dream for him: his consciousness would not die but would be permanently preserved in his body, allowing him to experience the beauty of endless torture.

At six o'clock in the evening, the night in Nanshi was gentle. Some people had finished eating, some were enjoying the cool air in their courtyards, some were doing needlework under the lamp, and some were putting their children to bed.

They didn't know that just moments before, 40,000 Japanese soldiers had died in the city.

All they need to know is that from now on, they are safe.