That kick was only the beginning. The little Daoist boy attacked the kneeling statue like a madman, a faint golden light clinging to him.
Even when he was utterly exhausted and his master dragged him away, he still remembered to spit at it:
"You beast! You pathetic little country! Just you wait till this Daoist grows up!"
Zhang Xiao shook his head gently, sighing inwardly.
He was still a child, after all. Immature. A mature person like me would never act like that, no matter how angry I was.
I would only keep that feeling in my heart, turn it into motivation, and take revenge through action...
The little Daoist boy seemed worn out. His master carried him on his back as he sobbed.
His cries gradually receded, finally fading away below the steps.
Zhang Chengdao said softly:
"Come on. Let's go inside."
The moment he stepped through the hall doors, Zhang Xiao froze.
He had never imagined he would see anything like this. Countless memorial tablets stood packed together inside the hall.
Layer upon layer, tier upon tier, they rose from the floor to almost the ceiling.
A grief far heavier than before engulfed him. All words, spoken or written, were pale and powerless in that moment.
These were...
Zhang Chengdao lifted his Daoist robe and knelt on a meditation cushion before the tablets. Coming to his senses, Zhang Xiao hurriedly knelt on the cushion beside him, slightly farther back.
"Xiaoxiao, these are the forebears of our Daoist Order, heroes who entered their eternal rest for the Dao they held fast to in their hearts."
Zhang Xiao listened silently, his gaze passing over the nearest tablets one by one.
Unlike ordinary memorial tablets, the inscriptions on these were very simple:
"Zang Zhun, born on the Dingwei day of the