If Wei Lou had known what was going through the minds of the people opposite him, he would probably have sneered.
Not everyone in this world was trapped in the past, unable to move on. A hundred years had passed since the Wu Kingdom fell. Even if any old acquaintances were still alive, they had long since begun new lives and found new paths. Wu was merely a passerby in their long lives, a glory faded to yellow with age.
Was it that Wei Lou and his nephew couldn't move on because they didn't want to?
That they didn't want to forget?
No. Jimò Cong had deceived and trapped them in one place for over a century.
The uncle and nephew had relied on each other for years. His nephew, Wei Cheng, had been reduced to a skeleton and robbed of his freedom; Wei Lou couldn't possibly abandon him. Jimò Cong had used lies to deceive and seal Wei Cheng away, and had used Wei Cheng to keep Wei Lou bound as well, cutting off any chance for the two of them to start new lives.
It really was killing two birds with one stone.
Wu was the only spiritual sustenance Wei Lou had left to savor.
The more he went over it, the angrier he became.
So he poured all the hatred he'd nurtured during those wasted hundred years onto the true culprit. For as long as he lived, he wanted nothing more than to scatter the Assembly of Gods' ashes to the winds! That was Wei Lou. The others, though, might not feel the same.
Even if Wei Lou could find them and tell them the truth about their homeland's fall, how many would abandon what they had now to fight the Assembly of Gods to the death?