As Luo Ling's clear voice rang out, the entire great hall fell silent. Even the atmosphere grew still.
Treading down the law?
Indeed, it was treading down the law. But what he meant to trample was far more than the mere School of Punishment. He meant to trample those tyrants, those enemies of the people who dreamed of enslaving the masses to secure their rule for a thousand autumns and ten thousand generations.
The Mengzi School, which had suffered a devastating blow, almost cheered aloud. The people are weighty, the ruler is light; sacrifice life for righteousness. These were the Mengzi School's two core principles.
Luo Ling paused and looked at the people in the hall. Given their different identities and positions, their reactions naturally differed.
Some did not even understand what Luo Ling intended to do. He turned to look at Xiang Yu, who was precisely someone who could not grasp the deeper meaning of his words.
But given Xiang Yu's temperament, even if he had understood, he would not have cared. It was hard to say whether he was shortsighted or brimming over with confidence.
He did not play these games of political manipulation. He trusted only his own martial strength. Did ruling all under heaven really require all those twists and turns?
For a dynasty seeking stability, a ruler like Xiang Yu was naturally destructive. But that was not the case for a people. Slaughter would only provoke resistance, and the more resistance there was, the stronger a people's spirit would become, and the straighter their backbone would stand.
It was precisely those kings who appeared mild but imperceptibly instilled servile thinking who were most terrifying. If people did not even dare to rebel, could they still be called human?
Luo Ling wanted to plant a seed