Born Saints: Starting from Liaozhai

Chapter 121 Qin Shi Huang Ying Zheng, who personally performed the sacrificial ceremony

Soon, Xu Fu and Ying Zheng's eastern tour party slowly approached Wushan.

Dawn is approaching.

The sky was not yet fully bright, with only a faint hint of dawn appearing in the east.

Looking into the distance, the misty mountains stretch out in the distance.

Layers of clouds and mist swirl around the mountain peaks, like white waves surging, obscuring the entire mountain from view.

Occasionally, a breeze would pass by, parting the fog in a thin line before quickly closing it again, as if something existed that did not want ordinary people to see its true form.

On the mountaintop, streaks of golden light flickered faintly, as if they had existed since time immemorial and had never been extinguished.

A slight commotion arose within the group.

Whether it was soldiers, officials, sorcerers, or other accompanying personnel, they all couldn't help but look towards the top of the misty mountain, and were all shocked by the light.

Xu Fu's pupils also constricted slightly.

He had thought that the account in the book that the misty mountain had been shining with golden light for hundreds of years was an exaggeration, but now that he saw it with his own eyes, he was surprised to find that it was really true.

Inside the imperial carriage, Ying Zheng's gaze was fixed on Wushan, and his breath hitched almost imperceptibly.

a long time.

His voice was filled with undisguised praise as he exclaimed, "Truly a sacred mountain!"

Soon, the group stopped at the foot of Wushan Mountain.

At the foot of Wushan Mountain, there are remnants of an ancient sacrificial altar.

The stone platform is mottled, its edges worn smooth by time, and ancient patterns are faintly visible on it, resembling mountains and rivers, or stars, carrying an indescribable sense of desolation.

The entire camp quickly sprang into operation.

The altar was cleaned, and a pure white sacrificial cloth was laid out. One by one, the sacrificial vessels were carried out: bronze tripods, jade discs, gui zhang (a type of jade tablet), and sacrificial offerings, arranged in perfect order according to ritual rites—not a single detail was out of place.

Time passed slowly, almost a whole day had gone by.

The sky was gradually brightening, about seven quarters before sunrise.

Everything for the sacrificial ceremony is ready!

At this moment, even the sound of the wind seemed to have subsided.

"The auspicious time has arrived!"

Tai Zhu's voice rang out loudly, clear and long, breaking the silence of the morning.

The sound of drums then began.

"Thump—"

A sound.

Calm and steady as a mountain.

Immediately afterwards, the bells rang in response.

"clang----"

Wandering in all directions.

As the bells and drums resounded, the entire world seemed to be drawn into a solemn and dignified rhythm.

The officials stood solemnly, and the imperial guards bowed their heads; not one dared to make a move.

Ying Zheng was dressed in black robes and a crown, with the tassels hanging down, partially obscuring his face, but adding to his majesty.

He stepped forward, one step at a time, ascending the altar. His pace was unhurried, as if he were walking on the rhythm of heaven and earth. When he reached the main seat, he stopped and turned to face the misty mountain.

"salute!"

May you drink again.

All the officials moved in unison, cupping their hands, bowing, and then bowing again, their movements perfectly synchronized.

The chief priest stepped forward, took the sacrificial text, raised it high with both hands, and spoke in a clear and ancient tone: "In the twenty-seventh year of the First Emperor's reign, the year of Gengchen, the Emperor toured the eastern territory and personally arrived at Wushan. He respectfully offered pure wine, a grand sacrificial offering, jade and silk, and other sacrifices to the God of Wushan—"

After a while.

After delivering the blessing, the chief priest respectfully called out, "Please, Emperor, deliver the message to the gods—"

Ying Zheng, with a solemn expression, stepped forward, personally accepted the sacrificial text, his gaze falling upon it, and then spoke, his voice as steady as a mountain, carrying a natural sense of oppression and dominance.

Just as he received the eulogy and was about to read it aloud.

Some people in the shadows were also watching this ritual.

In the distance, within the area designated for pilgrimage by local officials, besides a group of ordinary people watching, there were also some special individuals.

Zhang Liang, dressed in an old blue scholar's robe, with a slender and upright figure, a face like jade, and eyebrows like swords, was also secretly watching.

"Hmph, First Emperor, you tyrant! So many kings have offered sacrifices to the God of Mist Mountain, yet the God of Mist Mountain has ignored them all. Did you really think the God of Mist Mountain would pay attention to you?"

"You won't get your way!"

Zhang Liang stared at the majestic figure on the altar from afar, filled with hatred.

He just felt that this tyrant was really delusional. Among so many kings, did this tyrant really think that he was special and that the God of Mist Mountain would respond to him?

Just as he was looking at him with a mocking expression.

At the same time, he wasn't the only one watching this scene.

The First Emperor's personal eastern tour and sacrifice to the God of Wushan were such a momentous event that people from all walks of life had heard about it, and some even came to witness it in person.

Among the onlookers were remnants of the Six Kingdoms, Daoists, Yin-Yang School members, and other members of various schools of thought from the Hundred Schools of Thought period.

Huang Shigong, Xiang Liang (in disguise), Xiang Yu, and others were also among them, watching the scene on the altar with bated breath.

at the same time.

At this moment, Xu Fu also gazed nervously at the altar.

Although he knew that the God of Mist Mountain was very mysterious and probably wouldn't respond to Ying Zheng, he still couldn't help but feel a little worried.

Under their watchful eyes, Emperor Qin Shi Huang, holding a sacrificial text, proclaimed to the God of Wushan: "I, in my humble form, have received the mandate of Heaven, and, building upon the accumulated achievements of six generations, will sweep away the flames of war from the six realms."

"In the past, the six states were usurpers, and wars raged endlessly, causing immense suffering to the people. I personally led the six armies to punish the rebellion and tyranny, pacify the six states, and subdue the warlords. Wars ceased, the harm was eradicated, and the world was at peace."

"Now I have unified the four seas, established the title of Emperor, divided the land into prefectures and counties, unified the laws, and all the land belongs to the royal register. The people are at peace, and there is no war. My achievements surpass those of the Five Emperors, and my benevolence extends even to cattle and horses. All people receive my virtue, and each lives in peace in their own land."

"Now we offer our sincere prayers at Wushan, reporting our success. We rely on the divine ruler to protect this land, for his divine blessings shine brightly, protecting our territory. May the divine ruler forever bless the Great Qin, ensuring its eternal stability and prosperity for ten thousand generations."

Ying Zheng first announced his achievements, and then gave a little flattery.

After reciting the sacrificial text with a devout tone, he raised his hand and placed the text in the fire, where flames roared and engulfed the bamboo slips containing the text.

The wisps of smoke rose upwards, disappearing into the clouds and mist, as if to carry his words deep into the misty mountains.

In a short time.

The entire altar fell silent once more, with only the lingering scent of incense.

a long time.

Ying Zheng remained standing on the altar, his gaze fixed on the depths of the misty mountains, a hint of inquiry in his eyes.

Finally, he spoke, his voice no longer as resounding as before, but lowered, filled with pleading, "I have heard that the Divine Lord can discern the future through prophecies. I wish to ask the Divine Lord for a prophecy!"

He paused slightly.

Then, he said, word by word, "May I ask the Divine Lord, what is the fate of my Great Qin?"

Upon hearing this,

The scene fell silent instantly; so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Many Qin citizens, including Zhang Liang, Xiang Liang, Xiang Yu, Xu Fu, and Huang Shigong, stared wide-eyed at the altar.

Even Ying Zheng, who had personally sought advice, became tense at this moment.

Even as the Emperor of Qin, he didn't know if the God of Mist Mountain would respond.

If Lord Wushan does not respond, it can be said that this eastern tour has ended in failure, and his expectations along the way have been shattered.

The mountains and forests were silent, with only the whistling of the wind.

Everyone held their breath and waited quietly.

However, as time passed, the area around Wushan remained quiet.