80: Chapter 80 The harder the fear is suppressed, the greater the rebound force.

The three imperial edicts from the Great Li Dynasty were like three poisoned blades, ruthlessly piercing the hearts of the millions of Mortal in the capital.

Ten-household collective punishment.

Death by slicing, displayed to the public.

Rewards for reporting.

On the first day the edicts were issued, three thousand Ti Cavalry from the Zhenfu Division swarmed out in full force.

They did not miss a single one of the seventy-three locations listed in the secret reports.

The involved courtyards were surrounded, and armored soldiers broke through the doors like wolves and tigers.

There was no interrogation, no confrontation.

The men, women, old, and young inside the courtyards, along with the neighbors from three streets over—a total of over 1,700 people—were all dragged to the city walls.

The executioners' blades swung from dawn until dusk, and blood flowed down the city walls like a river.

The corpses were hung upside down on the battlements, left to bake under the scorching sun, and the stench of decay permeated the entire inner city for seven full days.

Fear, like an invisible giant net, instantly enveloped the entire capital.

The next day, the reporters arrived.

The temptation of the Iron Plaque for Blood Tribute Exemption was too great.

Under the Blood Tribute system, every Mortal lived in fear of being chosen at any moment and sent to the Blood Refining Workshop.

A single Iron Plaque for Blood Tribute Exemption meant the whole family didn't have to worry about being drained of their blood marrow alive for three years.

Three years of life.

This price was enough to make many people sell out everything.

The first reporter was an old man who sold tofu.

He reported a blacksmith in the alley next door, claiming he had personally heard the blacksmith whispering that mantra while forging iron.

The blacksmith's entire family of seven was taken away by the Zhenfu Division that very night.

The old man received the Iron Plaque for Blood Tribute Exemption and, amidst the complex gazes of his neighbors, silently closed his own door.

On the third day, there were even more reporters.

Some reported their neighbors for the sake of the iron plaque.

Some reported their friends to save their own lives.

Some even fabricated non-existent evidence to frame innocent people who had never recited the mantra, just to fight for that iron plaque.

The Zhenfu Division did not care about truth or falsehood.

They only cared about the numbers.

Every severed head was a merit to be reported to the demons.

Within a mere seven days, over thirteen thousand Mortal were executed in and around the capital because of the Mortal Self-Severing Method.

There was no more room to hang the corpses on the city walls, so they could only be piled up in the mass grave outside the city.

Vultures circled the sky above the capital in flocks, and the entire city was shrouded in stench and deathly silence.

Fear had indeed worked.

Within the capital, no one dared to openly mention that mantra anymore.

Even in their own homes, even under the covers in the dead of night, people did not dare to make a single sound.

The iron law of ten-household collective punishment made everyone a prison for each other.

You did not know if your neighbor would betray you for an iron plaque.

You also did not know if your neighbor was secretly monitoring your every move.

Trust between people was completely destroyed during those seven days.

Such is human nature.

In the face of fear, most people would choose silence, choose to protect themselves, and choose to pretend that nothing had happened.

But Zhao Chengqian and Xue Du both overlooked one thing.

The things in people's hearts cannot be killed.

...

In the outer city of the capital, deep within a cramped, narrow alley.

In a dilapidated adobe house, a gaunt old woman was hunched over, feeding thin porridge to her granddaughter.

The little girl was only five years old, so thin she was just skin and bones, but her eyes were extremely large and bright.

"Grandma."

The little girl said in a very, very small voice.

"Uncle Wang next door was taken away. Was it because of that song?"

The porridge bowl in the old woman's hand trembled slightly.

She did not answer, merely feeding the last spoonful of thin porridge into her granddaughter's mouth.

"Grandma, can that song really make the bad people in the sky fall down?"

The old woman's movements froze.

She slowly put down the porridge bowl, a flash of extremely complicated emotion crossing her cloudy old eyes.

She had lived for most of her life and had seen too much suffering.

Her husband had been chosen for the Blood Tribute twenty years ago, drained alive, and sent to the Blood Refining Workshop.

Her son had worked himself to death in the mines during forced labor last year.

Now, in this world, only she and this five-year-old granddaughter were left.

As for her old bones, if she died, she died.

But her granddaughter was still young, and she wanted her to live a few more years.

However...

When have you ever seen the government forbid commoners from singing a song?

Never.

But this time they were anxious—ten-household collective punishment, implicating the nine clans.

They killed over ten thousand people just to stop people from reciting those few dozen characters.

The old woman was illiterate and did not understand any high-minded principles about cultivation or whatnot.

But she had lived for decades, and even if she didn't understand anything else, she could see one thing clearly.

The more you forbid people from saying something, the more it proves that thing is effective.

She had seen it with her own eyes in the square.

Those demons that fell from the sky.

Those few dozen characters could truly hurt them.

The old woman remained silent for a very, very long time.

Then she reached out with her gaunt, skinny hand and gently stroked her granddaughter's head.

"Little girl, Grandma will teach you to memorize a song."

"Keep it in your heart. You are not allowed to say it out loud, and you are not allowed to tell anyone."

"As long as you can keep living, never touch it."

At this point, a fierce and sorrowful look appeared in the old woman's cloudy eyes.

"But if one day, you are also forced into a dead end by those monsters, and you cannot survive no matter what..."

"Then recite it, turn into a rain, and drag them to death with you!"

The little girl nodded obediently.

The old woman leaned into her granddaughter's ear, using a breathy voice that only the two of them could hear.

Word by word, she recited that mantra once.

Outside the narrow alley, the Ti Cavalry of the Zhenfu Division were searching house by house.

The sound of iron hooves rang out dully on the bluestone slabs.

But inside this dilapidated adobe house, the five-year-old girl closed her eyes, carving that mantra into the deepest part of her heart, word by word.

She did not know what these words meant.

But she remembered what Grandma said.

When you cannot survive no matter what, recite it.

...

Scenes like this were not only happening in this dilapidated house.

They were happening in every corner of the capital, and even in the vast territory of the Great Li outside the capital.

There were husbands who, before being taken away by the Zhenfu Division, used their last embrace to whisper the mantra into their wives' ears.

There were mothers who, before their execution, silently mouthed the words one by one to their sons in the crowd.

There were prisoners who, on the way to execution, suddenly shouted the mantra; although they were throat-slit after only half a sentence, hundreds of people around heard it.

The ban killed those who dared to speak out.

But the ban could not kill those who kept the mantra in their hearts.

The crueler the ban, the more it proved the same thing to everyone.

This thing could truly hurt them.

Otherwise, would they be this afraid?

Half a month later.

Three hundred miles north of the Great Li Dynasty capital, deep in the wilderness.

In an abandoned mine pit half-buried by yellow sand, a camp of several thousand people was operating with extreme secrecy.

This was the temporary base of the Mortal Resistance Army.

After Leader Li Zizai died, under the secret command of Su Yu and the practical management of Adjutant Li Xiaotian, this force did not scatter; instead, it absorbed more refugees and rebels fleeing from everywhere.

The troop strength expanded from ten thousand to nearly twenty thousand.

In the deepest part of the mine, in a secret room built of rubble.

Su Yu sat cross-legged, the five-year-old child's body forming an extremely bizarre contrast with his extremely composed temperament.

Standing before him were seven people.

They were the seven key members that Leader Li Zizai had planted in the capital before his death.

They had blended into the crowd on the day of the execution, witnessed Leader Li Zizai's heroic death with their own eyes, and then went into hiding, operating secretly in the capital for over half a month.

Now, they had risked their lives to cross the blockade and brought back the latest intelligence from inside the capital.

"The ban is indeed effective."

The bearded man leading them, named Zhou Tiezhu, said in a hoarse voice.

"On the surface, no one dares to recite it anymore."

"There are more and more reporters, the Zhenfu Division has killed over ten thousand people, and everyone in the city is in danger."

Su Yu nodded slightly, not speaking.

"But..."

Zhou Tiezhu paused, a flash of light appearing in his eyes.

"In the shadows, the mantra is spreading faster than we imagined."

"We camped in the outer city for half a month and discovered one thing."

"The stricter the ban, the more people believe in it."

"Commoners aren't stupid; they have never seen the government kill so many people over a single song in their entire lives."

"Ten-household collective punishment, the Iron Plaque for Blood Tribute Exemption—this level of mobilization is greater than even treason."

"What does that mean? It means this thing is truly useful."

"The commoners don't dare to say it now, but in their hearts, they are all thinking the same thing: those demons that fell from the sky in the square were truly blown off their feet."

Su Yu listened quietly, a faint smile curling the corner of his mouth.

This was exactly consistent with his prediction.

The ban was a double-edged sword.

It could suppress all voices with fear in the short term, but the harder fear is pressed, the greater the rebound force.

Because the ban itself was the best advertisement.

The more you forbid something, the more you are telling everyone that this thing can hurt them.

But relying solely on the secret spread of the mantra among the people was far from enough.

The power of the Mortal Self-Severing Method depended on how many Mortal detonated it at the same time.

A single Mortal's self-severing could only purify the demonic energy within a few miles, and it would recover quickly.

But what if ten thousand, one hundred thousand, or even a million Mortal detonated it simultaneously?

That magnitude of purification would be enough to cause a permanent decrease in the concentration of demonic energy in an entire region.

And this was the killer move that could truly shake the foundation of the demons.

"The capital cannot be moved for now."

Su Yu finally spoke, his voice childish, but the composure and sophistication in his tone made all seven adults present subconsciously straighten their backs.

"The ban is at its peak, and clashing head-on will only lead to death in vain."

"Set your sights outside the capital."

Su Yu raised his hand and pointed to a few locations on the sheepskin map spread out before him.

"The Great Li Dynasty has a vast territory, and the power of the Zhenfu Division can at most be concentrated in the capital and a few major cities."

"In remote counties, townships, and villages, the enforcement of the ban will inevitably be greatly reduced."

"These places are our main battlefield."

As a transmigrator, Su Yu naturally understood the tactical value of encircling cities from the countryside.

His gaze swept over the seven people.

"After you return, do not stay in the capital anymore. Disperse to various provinces and counties, find those who have already memorized the mantra, and organize them."

"They don't need to die right now."

"They only need to know what they need to do when the horn sounds on some day in the future."

"What I want is a net."

Su Yu's gaze fell on the dozens of crisscrossing official roads on the map.

"A net that covers the entire Great Li territory."

"The day this net is woven is the doomsday for the demons."

The seven people clasped their fists in unison.

"Understood!"

...

In the days that followed, the Mortal Resistance Army began an extremely secretive yet highly efficient infiltration operation.

The seven key members broke up into smaller groups, leading their respective teams, and radiated out along the official roads in all directions of the Great Li Dynasty.

They no longer high-profilely raided Blood Tribute convoys like Leader Li Zizai.

Instead, like water, they silently infiltrated every remote village and township.

Wherever they went, they were in no rush to spread the mantra.

Instead, they first found the most respected elders, the most prestigious village leaders, and the boldest, toughest people in the area.

Then, they only did one thing.

Tell stories.

Tell the story of Leader Li Zizai.

Tell the story of that Mortal leader who was burned by demonic fire in the square but did not make a sound.

Tell the story of that roar that pierced through the demonic fire.

Tell the story of those demons that fell from the sky.

People's ears can be blocked, and their mouths can be sewn shut.

But stories cannot be killed.

A good story only needs to be told once, and it will grow wings on its own.

And this story, written by Leader Li Zizai with his life, was the best story in this world.

Because it told every desperate Mortal.

Your life is not worthless.

Your death can also make those high-and-mighty things fall from the sky!