Fourth, if they failed and provoked even more frenzied retaliation from the Fish God, the entire village might die sooner and more horribly.
Truly, all roads led to the Underworld Office. It was merely a question of dying sooner or later, and how.
And all these villagers, arguing until their faces flushed, were really only debating which path would let them die a little later, or perhaps a little more respectably.
Cui Jiuyang could not help sighing inwardly.
Common people always seemed so powerless in the face of such oppression.
They exhausted every possible means in their struggle to survive, yet often all they accomplished was delaying the death already destined for them.
Yet even the brief respite bought by such desperate struggles was enough to give them a little comfort and satisfaction.
To die later, just a little later... as though, if they could delay long enough, their deaths would no longer be caused by oppression, but become natural deaths at the end of their lives.
And when they finally summoned the courage to resist, the solution they devised was often merely to seek another, stronger patron or deity, hoping some righteous magistrate or savior would descend from the heavens and rescue them from their suffering.
Little did they know that this merely meant finding someone else to oppress them, offering them a new, perhaps more attractively packaged way to die.
That was why stories of the upright Judge Bao would always find an audience, and peerless heroes would always be welcomed by the world.
Thoughts flashed through Cui Jiuyang's mind, but his expression remained unchanged. It seemed he would have to play the upright Judge Cui today.
He cleared his throat, smiled, and addressed the crowd in a ringing voice. "Everyone, in my humble opinion, this drawing of