Two Realms: Starting with transmitting the Taiping Jing to Zhang Jiao

Realizing something was wrong, the officials at the banquet could no longer laugh. They all stood up and scrambled away from Zhang Jiao, several meters away.

"Yuanyi, it's all my fault..."

At this moment, the wise teacher was in tears. With the help of the young man beside him, he stood up, leaning on his nine-section staff.

Wang Fen's face turned completely pale, ashen, like a corpse.

They've rebelled! They've actually... rebelled?!

As the wise teacher's voice faded, a large number of refugees wearing yellow turbans stormed into the governor's mansion. Some officials wept, some urinated and defecated, and some cursed loudly, but they were all beheaded.

Wang Fen's face still held an expression of disbelief before she died.

The fire at the governor's mansion burned for a long time. When it was all over, countless refugees wearing yellow turbans stood outside, watching him silently, with a kind of fervor, fanaticism, and hysteria.

The wise teacher looked at them. Compared to nineteen years ago, he had transformed from a mere scholar into a great and virtuous teacher with hundreds of thousands of followers.

His retinue included governors, countless prefects, and even princes and nobles.

He was already one of the few people at the very top of power in the Han Dynasty.

To bring glory to one's ancestors, to rise to high office and be praised as one's ancestor... these were things that Zhang Jiao, an eighteen-year-old scholar, would never have dared to dream of when he was young, but for him now, they were easy things.

But responding to those gazes, his expression gradually became solemn, just as it had been nineteen years ago.

"In the first year of the Jiazi year of the Zhongping era of the Great Han Dynasty, the Lou constellation was in charge of the day, bringing great fortune to the world."

"The Blue Heaven is dead; the Yellow Heaven shall rise!"

His hands, as withered as tree bark, gripped the nine-section staff, and he shouted out the slogan they had agreed upon long ago, his voice carrying for miles.

It was like a spark that pierced the dry weeds, instantly igniting the entire dark night and stealing the light from the surrounding fields.

"The Blue Heaven is dead; the Yellow Heaven shall rise!"

"The Blue Heaven is dead; the Yellow Heaven shall rise!"

Thousands upon thousands of refugees cried out in despair, drawn by the Taoist's presence, which resembled a beacon of light in the darkness, driving them to their doom.

The sound appeared in various prefectures and counties, and in local government offices, with great momentum, causing panic and shock throughout the court and the public.

The next morning, Zhao Hong helped his teacher to the city gate of Jizhou, which had been occupied by the Yellow Turban Army, his eyes filled with an unprecedented sadness.

An insider leaked information and rebelled; the most crucial figure, Yuan Yi, who was stationed in Luoyang, was also torn apart by chariots. Their original plan was completely disrupted.

"General of Heaven, do you think the legendary Yellow Heaven who saves the world truly exists?"

He was no longer the child who cried in the prison cell, and he knew how crazy they were doing.

But just like when he was a child, the wise teacher on the city wall smiled and patted Zhao Hong's head: "It naturally exists."

Why?

The wise teacher blinked:

"Because I've seen it."

……

The thirty-six factions of the Way of Peace, overnight, donned yellow turbans and began attacking cities and plundering counties.

This was an unprecedented rebellion since the founding of the Han Dynasty, involving millions of people and an unprecedented scale, directly impacting the four-hundred-year-old Han Dynasty to the brink of collapse.

At that time, the entire population of the Han Dynasty was only over 40 million, and the total number of troops in the central government, prefectures, and border garrisons was only 200,000!

That sorcerer raised his arm in Jizhou and mobilized a rebel army that was more than five times the size of the imperial army!

War broke out in seven prefectures and twenty-eight counties across the country. The Yellow Turban Army advanced with unstoppable momentum, and prefectures and counties fell, officials and soldiers fled, shaking Luoyang.

The entire court was in an uproar. The young emperor hadn't even had time to put on his dragon robe before summoning all the officials to court.

No one knew why that sorcerer possessed such great supernatural powers, and by calling out to a non-existent deity called the Yellow Heaven Who Saves the World, he could command the entire world to respond.

Huangfu Song, Lu Zhi, Zhu Jun and other famous generals of the Han Dynasty came out in full force, leading the Han army and recruited soldiers like a red dragon, tearing each other apart with the Yellow Turban Army across the entire territory of the Han Dynasty.

Only then did they realize that the legendary Yellow Turban rebels were just a group of emaciated civilians without armor or weapons.

It was less of an army and more of a motley crew of refugees.

Even so, the renowned generals were horrified to find that they were unable to subdue these starving rioters in a short period of time.

In April, Huangfu Song and Zhu Jun suffered major defeats and were besieged by the Yellow Turban rebels.

Zhao Hong followed Zhang Jiao, traveling back and forth between various prefectures and counties to fight battles. Despite the obvious victories, he noticed that Zhang Jiao did not smile at all.

He gripped the nine-section staff in his hand tighter and tighter.

Just as May began, Cao Cao, the Commandant of the Capital Region, led his troops to provide support. Together with the trapped Huangfu Song and Zhu Jun, they launched a three-pronged attack and inflicted a great defeat on the Yellow Turban Army at Changshe, killing tens of thousands of people.

In June, Lu Zhi decisively defeated Zhang Jiao, killing tens of thousands of people.

In July of the same year, Zhang Xiu, the governor of Lutang in Hanzhong, rebelled, invading counties and prefectures. His rebel army numbered nearly 10,000, and he called himself the "Master of Five Pecks of Rice".

In the past, this would have been a major event that caused a stir throughout the land, but compared to the Yellow Turban Rebellion that was sweeping across the country at that time, it seemed to be ignored by everyone.

However, by this time, the well-armored and well-equipped Han army had already reacted, and the mighty Yellow Turban army was being gradually wiped out and surrounded.

The flames that have swept across the world are being extinguished little by little.

Meanwhile, the sorcerer who wreaked havoc on the world was besieged in Guangzong by Dong Zhuo's tens of thousands of troops.

-----------------

On the stone steps, beads of sweat the size of soybeans dripped from Yi Chuan's forehead.

He has lost count of how many times he has tried this in the past five years.

Step by step, after walking half a mile, Yi Chuan's forehead was covered in cold sweat, and his Taoist robe was soaked and stuck to his body.

With each step down the mountain, Yi Chuan felt as if countless iron wires were cutting into his body.

When I reached the halfway point of the mountain, a great terror gripped my mind, as if taking another step would mean certain death and my body being torn apart.

The fires below the mountain gradually died down, and the shouts of battle grew weaker and weaker.

It's almost over.

Yi Chuan's eyes were calmer than ever before, with a hint of sadness in them.

History has not been changed; he knows that the young scholar who followed him nineteen years ago still tolled the death knell for the Han Dynasty's four-hundred-year reign.

He sensed the presence of Zhang Jiao, who was thousands of miles away.

Intense, magnificent, like a red sun that burns everything in its path...

He was using that nine-section staff.

But that came at a price. Nineteen years ago, Yi Chuan suffered dizziness and even became transparent after treating just a few dozen disaster victims at Lutang.

But Zhang Jiao is saving far more than just a few dozen people.

Even if he is a divinely ordained cultivator, even if he is a great and virtuous teacher, how many people can he save?

The day Zhang Jiao dies will be the day I return to Baiyun Temple.

Yi Chuan knew about it nineteen years ago when he came down from Nanhua Mountain.

But as this moment was about to arrive, Yi Chuan felt no joy whatsoever.

"I really want to see the legendary great teacher."

Yi Chuan gritted his teeth, veins bulging on his face, and walked down the mountain step by step.

He walked very slowly, and the six orbs of light within his body were burning hot and restless, as if they were about to roar and break through something.

Sweat soaked the stone steps he walked on.

The fighting at the foot of the mountain gradually subsided.

Grass and trees grew wildly beneath his feet.