Zhao Ritian rushed over, shoved Lu Chengwen aside, and shouted, "What are you doing!?"
Lu Chengwen looked at Zhao Ritian. "I just wanted to..."
"Wanted to do what!?"
Zhao Ritian was extremely agitated. Long Aotian grabbed him. "Hey, calm down."
Zhao Ritian rebuked Lu Chengwen. "The dead deserve respect, don't you know that!? Let the dead rest in peace, understand!?"
He pointed at Ming Disha's "corpse." "Yes! Martial Uncle wasn't someone who deserved respect at all! When he was alive, he was hated by people and loathed by dogs, like a rat crossing the street that everyone wanted to beat to death. Martial artists everywhere wanted to eat his flesh, drink his blood, crush his bones, and chew his tendons..."
Long Aotian pulled at him, trying to persuade him. "Enough, enough. Say less."
Zhao Ritian refused to let it go and shoved hard against Lu Chengwen's chest.
"Forget being killed by Tianwang's Tiger Head—even if he'd been sliced eighty thousand times, had pepper powder, chili oil, salt, and essential oils rubbed into his wounds, then people pissed and shat on his corpse before grinding his bones to dust and chopping him up to feed dogs, that would still be no more than what he deserved!"
The many Tianwang experts exchanged bewildered looks.
Tears filled Zhao Ritian's eyes. "Even so, he was still our Martial Uncle! The man's dead; no matter how deep the grudge, it should be put to rest! And you're still burning him with cigarette butts—are you even human?"
Lu Chengwen looked at Zhao Ritian. He had his doubts, but he had no way to voice them yet.
He merely shrugged. "I was just testing it."
"You can't test it! Testing it is forbidden! Testing it is a crime!"
Lu Chengwen got angry. "Why the fuck are you