Most of these old soldiers had been fine men in their day. Though loyal to their former master, they still had principles at heart.
Most of them had assumed that Duan Yanqing had merely withdrawn from the world and lived in seclusion all these years. Who could have known that he had committed so many monstrous atrocities?
An old lieutenant with graying hair could not help glancing at Duan Yanqing, his expression complicated as the blade in his hand unconsciously lowered a little. "Your Highness... is what that young master said... true?"
A strange "heh-heh" sound came from Duan Yanqing's throat. Under normal circumstances, he could have killed this nosy subordinate with a single strike of his iron staff.
But with everyone watching, if he made a move now, he would only confirm the charge that he was a tyrant.
He wanted to defend himself, yet he had no idea how to refute it. Faced with the eyes around him, brimming with anger and contempt, he could not force out a single word.
He had never been eloquent to begin with, relying solely on his martial arts and ruthless resolve to establish himself.
Now that Lin Xuan had stripped away his skin and exposed the rotten, stinking filth beneath, he could do nothing but pant in rage, unable to offer even one word in rebuttal.
Justice lived in the hearts of the people.
Just as Duan Yanqing's side was about to completely lose the people's support and the situation was on the verge of collapse, Master Yideng, who had worn a kind and benevolent expression all along, stepped forward once more.
"Amitabha—"
Another long Buddhist chant forcibly cut off the crowd's discussion.
Master Yideng slowly opened his eyes. His gaze swept over Lin Xuan, while his face retained its look