"Long ago, the head of the One Truth Sect usurped the high seat and deceived the orthodox teachings. He recklessly committed acts of rebellion, wielding a grand name to purge dissidents, like a great rat guarding the granary... He buried the grief of the sages of old in the Black Ancestral Hall. The glory of a hundred generations was stained in a single day. In the end, he forfeited the trust of all under heaven."
Zong Dezhen had, of course, long since been defined by the Central Empire.
But this was Yujing Mountain's formal verdict on its former headmaster. They denied his legitimacy, calling him a "usurper," spat on him as a "fraud," and conveniently dumped upon him all the tarnished reputation accumulated over so many years. Thereafter, they could march lightly into battle, flawless as white jade.
"The covenant of antiquity lies obscured beneath dust. The sorrow of the saints before us is heard no more by those who come after. My heart too is grieved... My heart aches beyond measure!"
On Yu Xi's handsome face was the indignation of youth. It was as though his youth, like his face, had conquered time.
Like Erzhu He at fourteen, his hot blood burning through ice—not a man who had already crossed more than a thousand years.
"In demon-slaying in this age, none have achieved as much as Your Excellency."
He looked at the River-Subduing True Lord and presented the white-scroll Jade Book in his hands. "Today, I offer you this covenant. I hope that you can... restore its glory."
Before Yujing Mountain's exalted Grand Headmaster, True Lord Jiang found it difficult to remain silent.
"How could this..."
"Headmaster Yu, this..."
The preliminaries of the Yellow River Assembly were in full swing. Prodigies from every corner of The Present World were