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

Zhang Yan suddenly laughed when he heard the word "sentencing".

It wasn't the fake smile of a wise teacher, nor the smile of someone looking down on the masses from a high platform.

This time, he looked exhausted from laughing.

"Wei Zhao".

This was the first time he had addressed him by his first name.

The expressions on the faces of the two brothers on either side changed.

Several of the torchbearers' eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

But Zhang Yan didn't look at them; he only stared at the white-robed emperor on horseback.

"I don't need your judgment."

Wei Zhao's spear stopped at his side, blood dripping down the spearhead.

He didn't speak immediately.

That statement is incorrect.

It wasn't a plea for mercy, nor was it a stubborn act.

Zhang Yan seemed to have truly planned his escape route long ago.

Zhang Yan took another step forward, his reddish-yellow Taoist robe being lifted by the wind, revealing the blood-stained inner garment beneath.

"I've always known what I'm doing."

His voice wasn't loud, but it drowned out the chaotic cries behind him.

"In this world, the people suffer whether it prospers or perishes. When the old Wei dynasty was in power, the people in the court wore fine silks and drank fine wine, talking about benevolence and righteousness. When people starved to death in Qingzhou, they said it was a natural disaster, that the refugees were unruly, and that the people were ungrateful."

Zhang Yan raised his hand and pointed towards Kyoto.

"Later, Lu Song killed the emperor and sat on the throne himself. The people still suffered. Then you, Wei Zhao, stormed into the capital and installed Xin Wu as emperor. The people still suffered."

Liu Jingshuang tightened her grip on the knife by half an inch.

Zhao Qiniang's face also looked rather unpleasant.

Wei Zhao, however, did not get angry.

Zhang Yan's words were harsh, but not entirely wrong.

The court may change its appearance, but the common people may not immediately have enough to eat.

Since the founding of the new Wu Kingdom, Wei Zhao himself is well aware that he has done a lot, killed a lot of people, posted a recruitment notice, appointed the national advisor, and appointed Li Huai, but the people who starved to death in Qingzhou will not come back to life immediately because of these things.

This is a bad debt.

The mess left behind by the old Wei dynasty.

This is also the mess he has to deal with now.

Zhang Yan looked at the ragged refugees and swallowed hard.

"So I opened soup kitchens, killed corrupt officials, and burned land deeds. I told them that the sacred flame would give them a way to survive."

He looked down and smiled.

"I know there's a deception involved. There's incense, medicine, flags, bells, and a miracle that the three of us brothers staged."

An uproar erupted within the Holy Fire Cult's ranks.

"A wise teacher!"

One of the forum administrators screamed.

Zhao Qiniang pointed her long sword.

"Shut up."

The crossbowmen immediately aimed their arrows at the altar masters.

Wei Zhao secretly credited her for this.

This woman really knows when to let Zhang Yan finish speaking.

Now, Zhang Yan's own actions in dismantling his own facade are more effective than having someone shout "triplets are frauds" a hundred times.

Zhang Yan did not turn around.

"But I was wrong."

As soon as those three words were spoken, the cries and screams subsided.

Zhang Yan's voice finally became hoarse.

"My mistake was that I thought that as long as I gathered these people together, made the government afraid, made the powerful families afraid, and made the imperial court afraid, they could survive."

He raised his hand and pointed to the trampled field ridges and the empty village in the distance.

"But the more people gathered, the less food they consumed. The leader of the altar grew increasingly mad, and the followers became more and more devout. Some wanted to stop, while others wouldn't let them. Some said that if they went one more city, they would find food, and if they went one more prefecture, they would find peace."

Zhang Yan closed his eyes.

"In the end, I couldn't stop."

Wei Zhao looked at him, his fingers slowly pressing down on the gun barrel.

it is good.

We've finally gotten to the root of the matter.

This chaos couldn't have been caused by Zhang Yan alone, but he was indeed sitting in the hood of the car.

He could say he started out trying to save people, but he couldn't pretend he didn't see how many people were killed by the wheels.

Understanding is one thing, forgiveness is another.

Wei Zhao could understand Zhang Yan, who was forced into this situation by the old Wei dynasty.

However, Emperor Xinwu could not forgive Taiping Xianshi, who had dragged millions of people into a fire pit.

Because if he forgives, a second Zhang Yan, and a third Zhang Yan, will emerge.

Everyone says they had good intentions at first.

Then the world was burned to the ground time and time again by well-meaning people.

Wei Zhao said coldly, "If you know you're wrong, you should take them back."

"I can't take it back."

Zhang Yan shook his head.

"If I were to merely speak of surrender, the altar masters below would immediately accuse me of being misled by you, of using you as a pretext. They would then put forward another wise teacher and drive the people forward again."

Wei Zhao squinted.

That old man really did have a backup plan.

Zhang Yan turned around and looked at his two brothers on either side, who looked exactly like him.

The fatter one on the left is called Zhang Huo.

The thinner one on the right is named Zhang Yan.

That's quite a clever name.

Fire, flame, blaze.

With three brothers working together, it's no wonder they were able to manage the Holy Fire Cult in such a way.

Zhang Yan looked at them and suddenly asked:

"Over the years, you've all followed me, hiding in the shadows, taking turns playing the role of this wise teacher in times of peace. Have you ever felt wronged?"

Zhang Huo was still bleeding from his shoulder. Hearing this, he was stunned for a moment, then burst into laughter.

"What a load of rubbish!"

He laughed so hard his wounds split open, blood streaming down, but he seemed oblivious.

"Brother, if it weren't for you back then, I would have starved to death on the roadside in Qingzhou long ago. We brothers swore an oath to make those corrupt officials taste the bitterness of hunger. We've lived long enough to get to where we are today!"

Zhang Yan tore off his ripped sleeve, revealing his wrist covered in wounds from hidden weapons, and laughed along.

"Exactly. So what if I'm hiding in the back? So what if I'm impersonating you? As long as people believe the sacred fire can provide food, what does it matter whose face they believe?"

As he laughed, his eyes reddened.

"If we're talking about feeling wronged, it's not about wronging ourselves. It's that we wanted to save people, but in the end, we harmed even more people."

Zhang Huo's laughter paused for a moment.

Zhang Yan looked at his two brothers and nodded.

"Then accompany me to the last performance."

Wei Zhao's eyelids twitched.

He raised his spear, and the Imperial Guards immediately took half a step forward.

But Zhang Yan neither fled nor ordered his assassins to attack again.

He simply raised his hand, took out a black bronze plaque from his pocket, and crushed it forcefully.

Click.

The sound wasn't loud.

But the Olympic flame flags that hadn't fallen yet around the high platform suddenly straightened up one after another.

Zhang Huo and Zhang Yan stepped back to his side at the same time, and the three of them stood side by side at the front of the platform.

Wei Zhao saw that several thin copper wires were being pulled through the cracks in the wooden planks beneath their feet.

organ.

It really was a trap.

These people have prepared everything they could to act like gods.

But the next moment, a thunderclap suddenly exploded in the sky.

boom!

The warhorses neighed in alarm, and the shields of the Imperial Guards at the front wavered.

The rolling dark clouds, swirled by the wind, pressed down on the high platform, looking frighteningly black.

Immediately afterwards, a thick, bright bolt of lightning struck down from the clouds, landing directly on the tallest bronze pillar of sacred fire behind the platform.

Flames erupted.

The yellow cloth flag was instantly half burned.

Someone in the Holy Fire Cult formation knelt down.

"The wise teacher has manifested his divine power!"

"No! Look at the sky!"

Wei Zhao looked up.

He was about to curse, "What kind of trick is this now?"

But the sound of the cursing was stuck in his throat.

Because from within the rolling dark clouds came a low and terrifying chanting.

"The new martial arts flourish, the sacred flame is extinguished, the world is unified, and peace reigns in the Central Plains!"