A family of loyal martyrs, starting with nine wives to continue the family line.

Zhang Yan was somewhat surprised; she hadn't expected Wei Zhao to be so perceptive.

Triplets.

These four words are more deadly than a crossbow bolt.

Zhang Yan, the one in the middle, raised his hand to stop his two brothers on the left and right from continuing their attack.

The fatter Zhang Yan on the left was still bleeding from his shoulder, his short halberd held low, his eyes fixed on Wei Zhao.

The thinner man on the right had his sleeve ripped by the spear tip, a gash appeared on his wrist, and hidden weapons were scattered all over the ground. His face looked extremely pale.

The man in the middle laughed instead.

"The new Emperor Wu is indeed formidable."

Wei Zhao sat on his horse with his spear across his side, ignoring the flattery.

He hates this kind of talk the most right now.

sharp?

What good is being powerful?

Is it possible for someone to bring people who starved to death in Qingzhou back to life?

Can it bring back the millions of people who have been coerced by the Holy Fire Cult to their fields?

Can those followers who have been drugged and rang the bell by the altar master, turning them into mad dogs and lunging forward, be turned back into human beings?

No.

So he didn't want to listen to nonsense.

"You admit it?" Wei Zhao asked.

Zhang Yan looked at him, her face showing no shame, only a calmness born of being forced into the spotlight.

"Admit what?"

He raised his hand and pointed to himself, then to his two brothers on the left and right.

"Admit that I used magic tricks? Admit that I used the wind, smoke, bells, and flags to deceive these people?"

The Holy Flame Sect's formation fell silent once more.

The faces of the several altar leaders changed drastically, and they tried to shout to cover it up, but Zhao Qiniang had already pointed at them and yelled.

"Keep an eye on those who ring the bells! Anyone who dares to utter any more heretical words will be shot dead!"

The Imperial Guard crossbowmen immediately raised their crossbows.

The altar leaders moved their lips, but ultimately did not dare to utter a word.

Wei Zhao felt a slight sense of relief.

Zhao Qiniang, that woman, knows all about the stuff from the religious sects.

Knowing when to kill and when to let the other person continue talking.

Now that Zhang Yan has spoken up, it's more effective than him stabbing him with a gun.

Zhang Yan glanced around, his voice rising even louder.

"Yes, I fooled them."

"But Wei Zhao, can you say that no one in this world has lied to them?"

He walked to the edge of the platform, his reddish-yellow Taoist robe stained with incense ash, and the smile on his face finally cracked.

"The old Wei court promised disaster relief, but where was the grain? What did the people of Qingzhou receive? Empty granaries, powerful local tyrants closing their doors, and the county magistrate using the relief funds to buy concubines!"

"The aristocratic families talk about benevolence and righteousness, but what about the land? Tenants kneel in the fields all year round, paying rent, taxes, and chores, and when their children are sick, they don't even get a bowl of medicine!"

"The officials talk about the law, but where is the law? When powerful figures commit murder, they can simply bribe the officials in the Ministry of Justice to suppress the case. Ordinary people who want to file a complaint get twenty lashes at the county government office!"

He pointed to the ragged refugees behind him, his voice hoarse.

"They came with me because I gave them a bowl of porridge."

"They call me their wise teacher because you people who sit on dragon thrones, wear official robes, and study the classics won't even give them a bowl of porridge!"

These words reignited the anger of many in the Holy Fire Cult.

Someone cried.

It wasn't fanaticism, it was grievance.

Wei Zhao did not interrupt.

He knew, of course, that there was some truth to what Zhang Yan said.

That's the most disgusting part.

If all the bad guys are lying, then it's easy to deal with them—just kill them.

But Zhang Yan is not.

His words contained truth, blood, the starving people of Qingzhou, the stolen disaster relief funds, and the people forced to sell their children.

It is precisely because he possesses truth that he is able to deceive people.

It is precisely because the people are truly unable to survive that people would drink his bowl of porridge laced with poison.

Wei Zhao gripped the gun barrel, his knuckles slowly tightening.

He must not be swayed by these words.

Sympathizing with the people is one thing, but condoning Zhang Yan's use of the people as a tool is another.

Zhang Yan may not have initially intended to become a sorcerer, but the Holy Fire Sect's current state cannot be explained by a bowl of porridge.

"Are you done talking?" Wei Zhao asked.

Zhang Yan stared at him.

"What are you trying to say?"

Wei Zhao did not continue the charge.

He raised his hand, and the Imperial Guards behind him followed suit, holding their ground.

Liu Jingshuang reined in her horse on the flank, her blade still dripping blood. Huo Qingluan's heavily armored troops advanced slowly, but did not rush forward rashly.

A very strange scene unfolded on the battlefield.

The bodies on both sides were still warm, the blood was still flowing, and the Olympic flame flag was still lying in the mud, but the center line had actually stopped.

Wei Zhao looked at Zhang Yan, his voice not loud, but everyone nearby could hear him.

"I have a question for you."

Zhang Yan sneered.

"Does the new Emperor Wu still have the mind to ask questions?"

"have."

Wei Zhao said, "Because I want to know whether you want to save the world or just burn it down to your grave."

Zhang Yan's smile slowly faded.

Wei Zhao pointed with the tip of his spear at the refugees who had been coerced into coming from afar.

"You said the old Wei didn't give them food, but you did."

"Alright, I agree."

"You say the government is corrupt, the powerful are ruthless, and the aristocratic families are cannibalistic, and I accept that."

Dignity can be maintained in the halls of power, but not on the battlefield.

Wei Zhao knew better than anyone how rotten the old Wei dynasty was.

That old dog Lu Song has stripped the world bare, and his old ministers are licking oil from between the bones. He can't deny this.

The fact that Wei was found guilty does not mean that Zhang Yan was innocent.

Wei Zhao raised his eyes.

"If you were given the whole world, what would you do?"

Zhang Yan's eyelid twitched.

Wei Zhao did not stop.

"Qingzhou is yours, Yuzhou is yours, Yanzhou is yours, and the capital is yours too. You can sit on the dragon throne, take the imperial seal, and all the officials will kneel at your feet and shout 'Long live the Emperor!'"

He stared at Zhang Yan, relentlessly uttering each word.

"and then?"

No one spoke on the battlefield.

Even the copper bells from the Holy Fire Church have stopped ringing.

Zhang Yan opened his mouth.

"Open the granaries and distribute the grain."

Wei Zhao smiled.

"Is there no grain in the granary?"

Zhang Yan paused.

Wei Zhao continued to ask.

"The powerful hoard grain, you kill them. The aristocratic families disobey orders, you kill them. The officials are corrupt, you kill them. And then what? Who will cultivate the fields? Who will collect the taxes? Who will repair the river embankments? Who will resettle the displaced people? Who will command the army? If the Northern Rong, Eastern Hu, Southern Man, Western Qiang, and Xianyuan invade again, who will defend the borders?"

Zhang Yan's expression finally changed.

Wei Zhao sneered inwardly.

Yes, this is the place.

The easiest things to shout when rebelling are to kill corrupt officials, distribute land, and open granaries to distribute grain.

But what happens after you've killed them all?

The world is not a single pot where you can just lift the lid and have food.

Fields need people to cultivate them, water needs people to manage it, accounts need people to keep them, soldiers need people to train them, and prefectures and counties need people to govern them.

The old order is corrupt, but a corrupt order is still an order.

It's easy to kick something to pieces, but difficult to put it back on its own.

Zhang Yan can use mythology to entice millions of people, but he may not be able to ensure that those millions of people have seeds to plant next spring.

This is what Wei Zhao wanted to ask.

"Say something!"

Wei Zhao pressed the tip of his spear down.

"Aren't you the wise teacher of peace? Didn't you say that once the sacred flame arrives, the world will be at peace?"

"I now ask you, if I were to give you the entire world, how would you ensure peace?"

Zhang Yan fell silent.

His two brothers on either side looked unwell.

The guy on the left was about to start cursing, but before he could even open his mouth, Zhang Yan in the middle raised his hand and stopped him.

Because he himself couldn't answer it.

It's not that I don't want to answer.

This is a problem that cannot be simply brushed aside with the phrase "the sacred flame will never be extinguished."

Wei Zhao looked at him, and the pent-up frustration in his chest finally found an outlet.

"Can't answer?"

"Then I will speak for you."

He suddenly pointed in the direction the Holy Fire Cult had gone.

"You want the people to live a good life, so you lead them in rebellion."

"And the result?"

"Where you go, nine out of ten houses are empty. Fields are left uncultivated, houses are left uninhabited, livestock are eaten, grain is boiled, the elderly die by the roadside and no one buries them, and children are carried on carts to shout for the sacred fire with you."

Zhang Yan's eye twitched.

Wei Zhao's voice was even colder.

"You said the government is forcing them to the brink of despair."

"So what are you doing now?"

"You made them leave their homes and follow you in rebellion, only to be killed by government troops as traitors?"

Wei Zhao's words stunned Zhang Yan.

Zhang Yan was indeed well-intentioned at first, and she genuinely wanted to change the people's situation.

But... but Zhang Yan really didn't expect that the Holy Fire Sect, which was once so prosperous, would eventually... develop into this situation and even harm many people!