lcionline Chapter 427 Sacrifice Preparation
Chapter 427 Sacrifice Preparation
The day of offering sacrifice to the God of River, amidst the dark storm and panic among the people, seemed to be pushed closer and closer by an invisible hand.
Even though Min Xiao had extraordinary means to blur his memory, the fear of dying in the raging flood had already been engraved like a brand deep in the bones of the people of Xiangsheng City.
As soon as Lu Wensheng stepped out of the majestic and heavy vermilion lacquered gate of the princess's mansion, he was immediately enveloped by an almost tangible and suffocating solemnity.
On the streets, yesterday's nursery rhymes seemed to still echo in the damp and cold air, but at this moment they had been completely replaced by a deeper fear.
There were very few pedestrians, and the few figures that did appear were walking hurriedly, with faces as solemn as iron and brows as furrowed as the heavy lead clouds above their heads.
They lowered their heads, as if they were afraid of disturbing something, or afraid of being stared at.
Without exception, simple incense tables were set up in front of every household along the street.
On the rough wooden boards or stone platforms, there were thin incense sticks that had not yet been lit, as well as a few dry, rough rice cakes and some fruits of poor appearance.
The air was filled with a sickening mixture of smells: the damp odor of earth, the choking smoke from burning cheap incense and candles, the sour smell of rotting food, and the omnipresent, almost condensed, bone-deep fear.
Colored paper - those thin, crisp, rough paper money with blurry images of gods and prayer words printed on them, were blown by the wind and fluttered down from the low eaves and from the hands of passers-by.
They should have been flying lightly, but at this moment they were wetted by the endless cold drizzle, and stuck heavily, one by one, to the wet bluestone road, like countless lifeless dead butterflies soaked by the rain, unable to float anymore, and could only be trampled in vain, eventually turning into a pool of dirty mud.
On both sides of the street, people could be seen squatting on the ground, silently throwing reams of yellow paper into a makeshift fire made in clay pots or broken iron buckets.
The flames were suppressed by the rain, struggling to spit out choking smoke, swirling upwards, but were then fiercely smashed apart by even larger raindrops, turning into wisps of blue-gray sighs that merged into the gloomy sky.
There were also intermittent cries among the crowd.
The crying was not a howl, but a suppressed whimper squeezed out from the depths of the throat, high and low, one after another.
Is it grief? But if you look closely at those crying people, their relatives are clearly supporting them, and their faces are also filled with confusion and fear.
The tears flashing in those eyes were not so much pure sadness as they were mixed with deep-rooted resentment.
Is it a resentment towards the cruel fate, a resentment towards the disaster that may happen again?
This resentment is so strong, but due to the vagueness of memory and the smallness of power, there is no specific outlet for it. In the end, it can only turn into helpless tears, rolling down the cheeks wet by the rain.
The subconscious hatred, like magma buried deep underground, struggled to seep out from the cracks under the pressure of fear and condensed into this dewdrop of sadness and despair.
The wind and rain became more and more violent, howling across the long street, picking up the wet colored papers on the ground, crumpling and tearing them into pieces, and then slamming them hard onto the walls and passers-by.
The wet, sticky and cold touch did not chill Lu Wensheng's body at all.
On the contrary, Lu Wensheng's eyes swept across the paper money floating all over the street, smelled the turbid air mixed with cheap incense and fear, and listened to the suppressed, rootless weeping. The ignited flame of anger in his chest was not extinguished by the bitter wind and rain, but burned even more fiercely and vigorously.
Public opinion? The corners of his lips curled up in a cold arc, and his eyes seemed to be quenched with cold stars.
The emperor, or Min Xiao behind him, thought that he could manipulate people's hearts with nursery rhymes and fear, throw dirty water on these "outsiders", and then push them to death as a matter of course?
They are really skilled at manipulating people's minds and confusing right and wrong.
"Since we're going to play a public opinion war..." He whispered to himself, with raindrops sliding down his jawline, "let's see whose story is more touching."
Public opinion? If the other party knows how to play, then he can't? !
What's more, what he wants to do is to cut off the source of the trouble!
Since the other party used nursery rhymes to spread panic, stigmatizing them as "evil people" who caused the flood, and trying to incite public opinion to tie them up and sink them into the river, he would treat them in their own way! He wanted to tear off this layer of hypocritical panic and throw the bloody truth back to this deceived city!
If these people knew the truth - knew that the flood was not a natural disaster, but a man-made disaster; knew that their fear, their sacrifice, their blurred memories, and even the sacrifices they were forced to offer at this moment, all originated from a carefully planned and shocking scam that was nourished by the souls of thousands of dead...
Would they still be so obedient as to be driven to the banks of the Zhuolang River and use the blood of innocent people to appease the "wrath of the river god" that did not exist at all?
Will the people be as confused as the other side wishes?
A plan quickly formed in his mind, clear and sharp.
Thus, an invisible storm began to brew in Xiangsheng City, more violent than the rain clouds in the sky.
He quickly gathered his companions who were scattered throughout the city - Wu Feipeng, Duan Jiashu, Li Zeng, Ye Yingzhou, Yan Zhaoming, Tang He, and Yan Qingshu and others who had successfully sneaked into the palace to provide support.
In a secret stronghold, under the flickering candlelight, a targeted "public opinion counterattack" was quietly deployed.
"If they want to 'mislead the public with nursery rhymes', we will 'debunk the rumors with drama'! If they want to 'fear people', we will give them the 'truth'!"
Lu Wensheng's voice was firm and decisive.
"The wicked man changed the route, causing a flood. He then tampered with the memories of the living victims, accepted benefits from the victims, and deceived them that all this was because there were no sacrifices and he wanted to capture outsiders for sacrifice" - this core story was given the most vivid and heart-touching form by Lu Wensheng and his partners.
Yan Qingshu relied on her clever identity and connections in the palace, while Lu Wensheng took advantage of the convenience of printing documents and books in the palace to secretly mobilize paper and simple woodblocks.
With his meticulous thinking and excellent writing style, Wu Feipeng personally took charge of the core truth told by Lu Wensheng.
"The flood back then was not a natural disaster, but a man-made one! The villains deliberately destroyed the dams and diverted the floodwaters to set up an evil array, causing the tragic deaths of thousands of people! Afterwards, they used evil magic to tamper with your memories, stealing the souls of the dead as the foundation of the array, and enjoying your offerings! Now the flood is coming again, not because of outsiders, but because the villains wanted to use the same tricks again, using you as sacrifices, and even wanted to capture and kill us who knew about it to silence us!"
Condensed into powerful and inflammatory short sentences, ballads and illustrated "truth leaflets".
Duan Jiashu, Li Zeng, Ye Yingzhou and others were responsible for secretly distributing these leaflets that were rushed out overnight in the streets and alleys of Xiangsheng City, teahouses, taverns, and even corners of the palace under the cover of night, wind and rain, like casting a net.
Tang He and Yan Zhaoming used their elusive abilities to find the naughty children and storytellers hanging around in the streets and quietly spread a more detailed and story-telling version - a vernacular tale that combines elements of modern classic revenge and conspiracy.