Master comes down the mountain, I don’t know martial arts, but I am an immortal

Li Muchen's consciousness floated in chaos, as if he was caught in an endless storm. The Western Zhou Dynasty was full of endless darkness and chaos. His soul kept struggling in the darkness, trying to grasp a trace of real existence. Just when he was about to be completely swallowed by the darkness, a strong smell of gunpowder suddenly penetrated his nasal cavity, stimulating his nerves and making his consciousness instantly clear.

He felt his body wrapped in a heavy force, and every inch of his skin could feel the hard and cold touch. He heard the rumbling of drums, the noisy sounds of fighting, the collision of weapons, and the neighing of war horses, which was deafening.

A gust of wind blew across his cheek, it was icy cold, and the smell of gunpowder was somewhat diluted, but the smell of blood became stronger.

He opened his eyes and saw that he was wearing heavy armor. If he moved slightly, the armor plates would collide with each other, making crisp sounds.

The morning mist covered the earth like a veil, and the outlines of the mountains in the distance were blurred. Flags were flying on the ground, and thousands of soldiers were arranged in neat and tight square formations. The armor gleamed coldly in the sun, and the spears were like forests and arrows were like rain. The generals rode on tall horses, wearing heavy armor, holding swords or spears, with firm and cold eyes, inspecting their troops and inspiring morale.

The horn sounded, and the cavalry led the charge, their horses' hooves raising dust like a moving dark cloud. The infantry followed closely behind, their shields linked together, forming an indestructible wall to resist the rain of arrows from the front.

Arrows streaked across the sky, whistling and landing in the dense crowd, and each round of shooting took away several lives. The wounded soldiers fell to the ground, groaning in pain, but their comrades had no time to rescue them and could only continue to move forward.

The air was filled with the smell of gunpowder, dirt and blood. The passing of life here seemed so common yet so heavy.

The war was intense. The sun dispelled the morning mist, passed through the zenith in the east, dried the blood on the ground, and then went westward.

The setting sun was blood-red, illuminating the devastated land and the exhausted soldiers.

The situation was becoming increasingly unfavorable. The enemy was like a surging tide, attacking the defense line wave after wave, and the morale of our side gradually declined with each collision. The reserve troops had been fully dispatched, but they still could not reverse the decline.

He stood on the makeshift command platform, staring at the chaotic battlefield in the distance, silently calculating every possible turn of events in his mind.

He turned around and looked at the team around him.

There was no one left, only the personal guards who were responsible for protecting him.

With a clang, he drew out his sword, and the sword body reflected the red light of the setting sun and was raised high in the air.

"Soldiers, charge at me!"

His voice was firm and powerful, more inspiring than a horn.

The guards quickly lined up, holding their weapons tightly, their eyes flashing with desire and loyalty for victory.

"For the sake of the Li Tang dynasty and our homeland, we must fight today. If we fail, we will die!"

He galloped out on his horse, followed closely by his guards, like an indestructible arrow piercing the core of the enemy formation.

The originally low morale was reignited, the soldiers were encouraged and their morale was boosted, and they launched a final counterattack.

The enemy's rhythm was disrupted by this sudden attack and fell into chaos in an instant.

Taking advantage of this opportunity, he led his personal guards to break through the enemy's core defense line, rushed into the command camp, and cut off the flagpoles of the two large flags with "Wu" and "Zhou" written on them with one sword.

The enemy forces, having lost unified command, gradually fell into chaos and eventually collapsed completely.

Cheers resounded through the sky and flags fluttered in the wind, symbolizing that this arduous battle had ended in victory.

The army continued to advance and first entered Chang'an.

"Long live my emperor! Long live!"

He accepted the surrendered ministers and the worship of the people, and marched towards the imperial city with his soldiers.

The "Li Tang" flag had already been flying on the walls of the imperial city, and mighty soldiers were holding guns and halberds.

Thousands of people knelt densely in the center of Chengtianmen Square. There were men and women, old and young. Their hands were tied behind their backs, and most of them lowered their heads, not daring to even breathe. Occasionally, someone raised their head to look at him, but quickly avoided his gaze, trembling, or staring at the ground with empty eyes, revealing the despair of dying.

There were only some young children, some of whom were unaware that death was coming, and were still curiously observing the new king, or some hot-blooded people, staring at him unconvincedly, with hatred and unwillingness in their eyes.

All around were swords and guns like a forest, flashing cold light and emitting a bloody murderous aura that had not yet been wiped out from the battlefield.

"Your Majesty, the entire Wu family and their followers are here. A warrant has been issued for the few who have escaped. No matter where they are, we will ensure that no one escapes!"

A general in armor knelt on one knee and reported to him.

He stood on the high platform, overlooking it all.

Looking at the Wu family members kneeling there waiting to die, another picture involuntarily appeared in his mind -

In the ancient city of Youzhou, two thousand miles away from Chang'an, more than a thousand years later, it would become the capital of the north and even the whole country. There was an ancient house there. In his fragmented memory, which he could not tell whether it was real or imaginary, there was a night when the house called Li's House was also full of people kneeling like this.

The voice that sounded from the darkness was still echoing in his mind:

"The Li family is guilty of eternal sins, and their evil deeds are heinous!"

"Sentence you to hell with blazing fire!"

His eyes became complicated as he thought of those innocent relatives who died and the glory and decline of the Li family.

Now the lives of the entire Wu family are in his hands, and his heart is filled with the pleasure of revenge.

But he knew that Wu didn't lose to him, but to fate.

And the thing called "fate" is controlled by an invisible big hand.

Just then, there was a commotion outside the city gate.

The soldier came to report: "Your Majesty, there is a monk outside who wants to see you."

Before Li Muchen could respond, the monk had already passed through the tall city gate and walked into the wide square, as if walking in a dream. He had a kind face, clear eyes, and steady steps. Although he was in this solemn execution ground, he exuded a tranquil atmosphere that transcended the world.

"I have come from Xiantong Temple in Mount Wutai to plead for the Wu family. I ask Your Majesty to show mercy and allow them a chance to live," the monk saluted.

"Give me a reason not to kill them," he said, looking at him.

The monk smiled slightly and said, "Although the Wu family has seized the world, they have also preserved the bloodline of the Li family. Now that the country has been restored, Your Majesty, why do you have to kill them all? Why not leave them a way out, which will also give yourself a chance to survive."

"If I leave them alone, they will surely rebel against me again someday," he said.

"I will bring them back to Jinzhou and make a vow that as long as the Li family's inheritance still exists in the world, the Wu family will never set foot out of Jinzhou." said the monk.

Li Muchen nodded: "Okay, take them away."

"Amitabha!"

The monk sang a "yes", waved his hand, and rolled up his sleeves, and the people and the monks in the square disappeared.

In the void came only the monk's Zen words:

"A thousand years of reincarnation is but a dream."