The court lackeys of the eight-hour workday

Chapter 539 Golden Body
Before Li Miao officially entered the martial arts world, military formations were the imperial court's reliance on suppressing the martial arts world, and also the fundamental reason why the Celestials dared not emerge from the world.

However, this is based on one premise: either the military formation must be in suitable terrain to completely block the escape route of the celestial beings who are being surrounded and killed; or there must be a master who can hold back the celestial beings and forcibly restrict their escape space.

Unfortunately, Amago Haruhisa had neither enough men nor generals capable of engaging Li Miao in a prolonged battle.

Thus, the outcome of this war was predetermined from the very beginning.

When the full moon sets in the west, the dust will settle.

"Forty-nine, nineteen years..."

While trying to pry open the hand that was choking him, Haruhisa Amago managed to squeeze out words.

"Do we still need to read it?"

Li Miao tilted her head and looked at him.

"Your men are all dead, and you're about to die too. You don't beg for mercy, you don't curse me, you just keep reciting the poem?"

"I'd like to hear what you're going to read."

He let go of her and threw Amago Haruhisa to the ground.

"Read it, great writer."

Amago Haruhisa collapsed into a pool of blood, his sleeves and trousers soaked through in a matter of breaths. He coughed a few times and propped himself up.

Blood and corpses filled the field of vision.

In the distance, there were still cries of agony and the sound of fleeing footsteps, growing ever more distant.

It's over. It's all over. The Amago family's centuries-old legacy, which flourished because of Izumo Taisha, has finally perished today because of Izumo Taisha.

Haruhisa Amago only wanted to finish reciting his farewell poem.

At the very least, let's preserve some dignity for the Niko family.

He spoke in a hoarse voice.

"Forty-nine years, a dream."

"Phase One, Glory..."

He is stuck.

Only then did he suddenly realize that he hadn't finished writing the poem; Li Miao had interrupted him before he could finish it in his mind.

He suddenly raised his head and looked at Li Miao.

"Could you give me another one—"

scoff!

Heads fell to the ground.

Li Miao pursed his lips.

"I've been putting on an act for ages, but I still haven't finished writing. You have to prepare your last words in advance; I've never heard of someone asking the enemy for time to finish a poem before they die."

"Pigsy wearing glasses, pshaw."

Li Miao turned and stepped onto the stone steps, heading towards his destination for the night.

Izumo Taisha Shrine.

The oldest and most historically significant shrine in Japan, it is said to have existed a thousand years ago. It is also the most revered Shinto shrine besides Ise Grand Shrine, far surpassing Hachiman Shrine, the birthplace of the Shinjin swordsmanship.

Bells jingled in the wind atop the enormous torii gate.

Li Miao stepped over the torii gate and walked to the front of the main hall of Izumo Taisha Shrine.

The main gate of the temple was wide open, and dozens of priestesses knelt on both sides of the road, dressed in red and white striped hakama, holding short swords called "wakizashi" to their necks.

On each young and beautiful face, the eyes were calm as still water, and the lips were sewn shut with black cotton thread, which had grown into the lips and was covered with red and yellow pus and blood.

"whispering sound."

Li Miao stopped and gave a disdainful sneer.

"What are you doing? Do you think I'm some kind of chivalrous playboy trying to stop me with a woman's life?"

"Of course not."

The answer came from within the main hall.

A woman dressed in red and white hakama, identical to the kneeling shrine maiden, emerged from the shadows of the main hall and stood before it.

That's a woman.

Old woman.

One could vaguely discern her youthful beauty from her eyebrows and eyes, but she was too old, her skin and flesh loose and sagging, appearing eerie and inexplicable in the dim moonlight.

Her lips were also covered with deep grooves created by the cotton thread binding them. Although the thread had been removed, the scars that had grown over decades were difficult to repair.

She bowed respectfully and gracefully to Li Miao, but it was not the etiquette of Japan; rather, it was the proper etiquette of a lady from the Central Plains.

Upon seeing such standard etiquette in Japan, Li Miao couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

"Central Plains?"

"You can say that."

The old woman's accent was somewhat strange, generally resembling a Guanzhong accent, yet with many differences. But it was clearly Central Plains dialect.

"How to say?"

Seeing that she seemed to want to tell him something, Li Miao wasn't in a hurry and asked her with his arms crossed.

“We…” The old woman opened her arms, gesturing to the kneeling witches on either side: “Our ancestors were from the Central Plains.”

"To be more specific, they were people from the Qin Dynasty."

"I think you should be aware of this. Didn't you kill our ancestor's junior brother? I suppose you must have received some information from him?"

"Otherwise, you wouldn't have traveled all the way to Japan."

Li Miao frowned.

He keenly sensed something... it didn't add up.

What the old woman "thought he knew" and what he "actually knew" do not match.

The old woman had already explained the origins of the witches—they were from the Qin Dynasty, and An Qisheng's senior brother was Xu Fu. They were descendants of the three thousand boys and girls that Xu Fu had tricked from the First Emperor.

But the old woman didn't know that An Qisheng had lost most of his memories of Xu Fu during these thousand years of reincarnation. Li Miao's trip to Japan wasn't entirely for Xu Fu; at least before this, he didn't know about Xu Fu's relationship with Shintoism.

So the old woman adopted such an open and honest attitude because she felt that Li Miao had already learned something from An Qisheng.

With his mind racing, Li Miao spoke calmly.

"I do know some things, but only before Xu Fu left the Central Plains."

he said with a smile.

"Speaking of which, An Qisheng and I are related by blood, and you are also my juniors. Why don't you save me the trouble of interrogating you and just step aside?" The old woman shook her head.

"You don't need to provoke me or threaten us."

"Our clan has protected Izumo Taisha for a thousand years, sacrificing everything for it. This thousand years has been spent waiting for your arrival."

"Today is the day when we give everything for Amaterasu."

Li Miao frowned suddenly.

"Amaterasu?"

"You know perfectly well that you are people from the Central Plains, yet you worship the bullshit gods of an island nation?"

The old woman's eyes suddenly flashed.

She stared intently at Li Miao for a long while, then suddenly burst out laughing.

"I see."

"So you didn't know anything. It seems you were trying to trick me into revealing information."

The old woman shook her head.

"In the end, I was not sincere. I wanted to say a few words to you and see what our great enemy, whom we have been waiting for for a thousand years, really looks like... I was arrogant, but fortunately, I can still make amends."

Before she finished speaking, she suddenly pulled a short knife from her bosom and swiftly plunged it into her own neck.

puff.

As blood gushed from her neck, the witches kneeling on both sides of the road also brandished their short swords and plunged them into their own necks.

Plop, plop, plop.

In the few breaths before the blood took their lives, these young witches, their mouths sealed, slowly fell forward, their arms wrapped around their chests, and their foreheads pressed to the ground with utmost devotion.

Warm blood spread along the lines of the soil.

Li Miao lowered his hand.

"Gone?"

He listened carefully.

That's it, there's been no further movement.

Apart from the faint sound of blood being pumped from the arteries, there was not a single breath within a radius of a hundred feet, including the main hall of Izumo Taisha Shrine.

"Tsk."

Li Miao smacked his lips.

"Could it be that he's trying to silence me?"

"Fanatical believer...tsk."

He shook his head and strode toward the main hall.

In his presence, suicide was almost impossible, unless one directly smashed their own head. He could even save a body before it grew cold, using methods like slitting its throat—that was why he watched these witches commit suicide.

But as soon as he lifted his foot, he suddenly stopped.

Kara, Kara.

Kara.

In the deathly silent main hall, a faint, rustling sound suddenly came, like the sound of soil and metal crumbling and collapsing, which gradually became clearer over a few breaths.

slam-la-

The sound of countless broken pieces hitting the ground, and the sound of a table in front of the hall being smashed by a heavy object.

At some point, Li Miao frowned, slowly lowered his arms, and stared intently into the hall.

a long time.

pat, pat.

Footsteps came from the dimly lit main hall.

One... no, it would be more appropriate to say one body.

A corpse emerged from the dimly lit main hall. It was covered in dirt and gold leaf that had covered the statues, which slowly fell to the ground with the movement.

The flesh and blood were shriveled but not rotten, the hair and beard were still intact, the eyes were closed, and there was a slight smile on the face, as if the Buddha was holding up a flower.

The flesh of its legs had lost its elasticity, and judging from the remaining traces, it must have been sitting inside the statue in a cross-legged position for a long time.

Its left hand is palm up and raised.

The right hand, with a delicate, flower-like gesture, is placed on the chest.

Through the circle formed by its thumb and forefinger, one could see a wound about the size of a thumb that pierced its heart. Moonlight shone through the wound from behind and onto the ground through its clenched fingers. Even though it was a withered corpse, Li Miao could still sense a touch of Zen in this gesture.

Li Miao slowly clenched his fist, the black gold gloves creaking.

For the first time, he showed anger when facing the enemy.

"Who did this to you?"

The corpse, of course, did not answer.

But Li Miao didn't need his answer.

This is a "golden body" left behind after the passing of a high-ranking monk. It will not decay, but it is somewhat shriveled. You can still see its appearance from its eyebrows and eyes.

Li Miao recognized him.

After killing An Qisheng and formally allying with Wudang and Shaolin, he and the two powerful sects searched the Central Plains for two years. During those two years, he saw the portrait of this face countless times.

Square face with high cheekbones.

His skin was bronze and somewhat rough, the marks left by his travels and teachings. He had unibrows, full earlobes, and compassion in his eyes, bringing peace to anyone who looked at him.

"Sorry to have kept you waiting, Senior."

Li Miao slowly assumed a boxing stance and said in a low voice.

"Whoever insults you like this, I will send them to hell and into the cycle of reincarnation."

"To be honest, I've imagined facing you countless times, but I never expected it to turn out like this..."

"Bodhidharma".

Before the words were even finished, a deafening explosion occurred!

"This humble student, Li Miao, humbly requests your guidance!"

May you rest in peace!

(End of this chapter)