He stood beneath a desolate mountain, gazing at a grave marked only by clothes and crowns, and at the words "Zhang Xiu buried here" inscribed on the sheer cliff, remaining silent.
Memories of the past surged forth, those were the days of his "acting chivalrous and righteous."
But those days ended with him burying himself.
"So, do I continue to live like this?"
On his journey, Li Yuan had witnessed much darkness.
At this moment, he understood a principle: relying solely on the blade does not solve problems.
He could kill one person or two, a hundred or a thousand people, but he couldn't stop evil. And the people he killed, were they all wrong? The people he killed had families, were fathers to children, husbands to wives. Before committing evil and deserving death, that person might have tried other ways to make a living but failed, leading them down this path.
These people certainly deserved to die, and he undoubtedly could kill them all.
