The Sage of Confucianism and Taoism

Qiu Chongshan stared at the Glory of the People in amazement, watched the power of the fighting spirit leave his body, and watched Fang Yun's glory be added.

At this moment, Fang Yun was bathed in the holy light, and the Glory of the People behind him occupied half of the sky. From a distance, it looked like wings hanging from the sky.

The Glory of the People had no killing power at all, and it couldn't even kill the mere demon soldiers. However, the power formed by the will of all human beings, which was immune to all evil and unpunished by all saints, retreated when they saw the Glory of the People.

The fighting spirit was compared with the Glory of the People, like a candle flame in the sun, which was incomparable.

Qiu Chongshan stood there, looking at the white Glory of the People in disbelief, because his fighting spirit power had completely dissipated, and the 100,000 fighting spirits were completely asleep and no longer helped him.

After a long while, Qiu Chongshan sighed and said, "I admit defeat."

"Thank you!" Fang Yun, dressed in white clothes, stood between heaven and earth, his eyes were still gentle.

The battlefield of Fengxuewen dissipated, and the figures of the two people appeared in the valley.

Fang Yun found that everyone on the viewing platform in front was standing, and then he looked around the viewing platforms in all directions. Everyone, including Qing Jun, had stood up.

Even if the Lei family members looked resentful, they all stood up honestly, fearing that the three rituals of fire would fall again at this time.

Young scholars from all over the world looked at Fang Yun with admiration on their faces.

Some people doubted Fang Yun's status as a virtual saint, but when the glory of the people appeared, those doubts all disappeared.

It is easy to win the hearts of the people, but it is difficult to win the glory of the people. The hearts of the people can be bought, deceived, and fooled, but the glory of the people cannot deceive people.

The powerful ministers or monarchs of various countries can easily buy the hearts of the people, beautify their own selfish desires into the country for the people, and are best at giving a few people a stigma and then sacrificing them, calling it for the majority, but in fact only a very small number of people in the upper class get real benefits.

Many scholars stay away from the court because they can't stand those actors-like officials.

However, the glory of the people is the purest people's will. Except for the founding emperors or monarchs of great changes in the past dynasties, and the saints who are bound to obtain the glory of the people, almost no one can hold the glory and be honored.

Slowly, the glory gradually dissipated.

Qiu Chongshan looked at Fang Yun with a complicated expression. If he could win, then Qing Jun and the Zong family would order all the families of the 100,000 martyrs in the ancient land of the deserted city to move back to the Shengyuan Continent. Even if he failed, as long as he could hit Fang Yun, he could also let one of the descendants of the 100,000 martyrs return to the Shengyuan Continent to study.

The environment of the ancient land of the deserted city is harsh, far inferior to the Shengyuan Continent. Only the top talents may have channels for promotion. As for those with mediocre or slightly talented talents, they usually stop at Tongsheng or Xiucai, and reaching Juren is the extreme. Many of them, if they return to the Shengyuan Continent, may become Jinshi.

However, the talent of Shengyuan Continent is limited, and the number of places for the imperial examination can only be increased slowly. It is unknown when true equality for all can be achieved.

In order to move back the 100,000 families, Qiu Chongshan has been running around for many years, but the resistance is too great.

The Holy Court has given the 100,000 families enough rewards, and their lives in the ancient land of the deserted city are better than ordinary people, but the decision to move back the 100,000 families can only be made by the royal family of Qing.

Qiu Chongshan looked at the gradually dissipating glory of the people, and his heart was full of confusion. He could no longer be sure whether the death of those comrades was worth it. They obviously had great merits, so why would they willingly retreat in front of the glory of the people?

That secret letter stained with blood only exchanged for a better life for their family than before?

If they could live, their families would be willing even if they had to live a harder life, right?

Qiu Chongshan felt grief rising from his heart, and his eyes were blurred. Suddenly, he saw a figure in a blue-robed university scholar's uniform plunge into the mist, and then he saw the backs of the Hanlins in white-robed black plum robes disappear into the mist, one by one, one team after another, one army after another...

Finally, all 100,000 people plunged into the mist, and only he had not moved, only the blood-stained secret letter was floating in the air.

"Who is still there?"

There is nothing left, no one is gone!

Are the 100,000 military souls leaving to complain that the only living person cannot place their families?

Qiu Chongshan gritted his teeth and clenched his fists tightly, letting the tears roll in his eyes, but they never fell.

Since 100,000 comrades were buried in the mountains, Qiu Chongshan has never shed tears again.

Qiu Chongshan turned around and slowly walked towards the seat of Qingguo. He hunched his back, lowered his head, could not see the direction, and walked more and more off the track.

Countless scholars saw this scene, and the first thought came to their minds.

This man collapsed, both physically and mentally, completely collapsed.

After walking a dozen steps, Qiu Chongshan suddenly heard a clear and melodious voice like a bell behind him.

"I'm still here!"

Qiu Chongshan's body shook, and tears rushed out like a river bursting its banks.

At this moment, he finally understood why the 100,000 military souls left with peace of mind.

They completed their mission, and they also completed their mission. There was no need to bear anything anymore, and no one would blame him.

Because there were others, and Fang Yun.

Qiu Chongshan stood there, and suddenly remembered the content of the secret letter. Tears flowed freely, but a smile bloomed on his face.

Qiu Chongshan turned his back to Fang Yun and said loudly: "Fang Xusheng, you must win the battle in Sangu. I and 100,000 comrades have entrusted everything to you! We have no regrets!"

After that, Qiu Chongshan's figure disappeared from top to bottom like those fighting souls.

Fang Yun was stunned, and so were everyone in the observation hall.

Qiu Chongshan had passed away.

Fang Yun felt a sense of injustice rising in his heart, which was pent up for a long time.

Fang Yun looked at the seat of Qingguo, and his eyes fell on Qingjun's face.

Qingjun lowered his head slightly, looked away, and did not look at Fang Yun.

Fang Yun took a deep breath and said slowly: "General Qiu lived a long life and died peacefully. If he had any wishes, I would inherit them. Please join me in mourning for him and comfort his soul in heaven."

Fang Yun said, lowering his head.

The whole audience mourned.

After a hundred breaths, Fang Yun looked at Qingjun and said slowly with a tongue like spring thunder: "Next!"

The sky above the entire upper viewing platform was originally lingering with a faint sorrow, but it was cut off by Fang Yun's sword-like sound!

Zong Jibing stood up suddenly. He inherited the blood of the Ice Clan. His body hair was more luxuriant than that of ordinary people. He was not much taller than Fang Yun, but his body was extremely broad. Even though he was over seventy years old, his muscles were still strong and full of explosive power.

Unlike ordinary people's eyes, his eyes glowed with a faint blue light, and his skin was white, so white that it looked sick.

"Meet Fang Xusheng!"

Fang Yun nodded and said nothing.

Zong Jibing snorted and said, "I don't have much contact with Brother Chongshan, but we have met several times. Although you won this battle, you dispersed the fighting spirit and caused him to lose the literary battle miserably, and he had no desire to live. Then I will defeat you on his behalf today, and use your failure to commemorate him!"

"Oh." Fang Yun agreed casually, and the coldness in his eyes gradually grew.

Zong Jibing's forehead was bulging with blue veins. He didn't expect Fang Yun to despise him so much.

The Zongsheng family and Fang Yun are already at odds with each other. When it comes to the dispute over the holy way, there is no room for maneuver.

As a mixed-blood with the ice clan, Zong Jibing, even if he has amazing talent, can't cross the threshold of Hanlin after all, unless a half-saint helps him personally.

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