At that moment, though the words seemed to issue from Wang Jue’s mouth, they were, in fact, Hua Jinlan leveling an indictment against the injustices her father had suffered. Public opinion can be a terrible thing; the saying goes that a multitude of voices can melt metal and destroy reputations. If a hundred people call you vicious, future generations might simply affix that label onto you, even if you were merely misunderstood at the time. I knew nothing of the prior events, nor the source of the villagers' perception of Hua Jinlan’s father, but these views had clearly eroded the heart of one who loved him deeply, planting resentment deep in her subconscious, compelling her to seek retribution for him, even from beyond the grave.

“What your father did certainly required a sacrifice for everyone then, but the things he did before that hurt many people…” The village head bent low, using his crippled leg for support, angling his face upward toward Wang Jue as he spoke.

“Surely sacrificing his life should be enough to atone for past mistakes?” Wang Jue gripped the village head’s wrist fiercely. With a series of sickening cracks, the older man’s arm was wrenched out of socket. Yet, he didn't utter a sound, only straining upward, fighting against the vise-like pressure of Wang Jue’s grip.

“Most people have forgiven him; some still harbor grudges. Not everyone thinks the same way; you can’t generalize,” the village head managed to say through gritted teeth, enduring the searing pain.

“Heh,” Wang Jue scoffed with a pair of hollow laughs. “Are you saying that only those few led by you haven't forgiven my father, and everyone else has? So, I should let the majority off the hook, is that it?”

The village head turned his head, nodding twice toward Wang Jue before replying, “Yes. Only a minority hasn’t forgiven him, and those few deserve censure—they are narrow-minded, unable to forget the time your father experimented with Gu poison on the villagers, unable to erase the hatred that has taken root in their hearts. However, today, only the minority should be punished; the majority are innocent.”

Wang Jue raised a foot and stomped down hard onto the village head’s already damaged leg, his eyes alight with arrogance as he watched the man’s pained expression. “In the end, it’s all because he crippled this leg with his Gu poison that you can’t let go. Even after he sacrificed himself for the entire village, you still held that grudge, manipulating public opinion to make everyone hate him, mock him, and disregard the sacrifice he made for the community!”

As he spoke, Wang Jue flung the hand gripping the village head’s wrist upward. Clack-clack-clack… an arm came clean off. A gush of blood sprayed out, spattering Wang Jue, the table, and the surrounding crowd.

The crowd shrieked and recoiled backward as one. Wang Jue let out a wild wahahaha laugh, leaping down from the table, turning back to the village head, and sneering, “I’ll save you for last!”

With those words, a flash of golden light tore through the air. Wang Jue, wielding the scythe, darted left and right, swinging and chopping in front and behind, dancing through the crowd. Where the blade passed, there were either severed limbs or decapitated heads; the air was filled not with shouts, but with screams and panicked cries as everyone dissolved into a chaotic mess.

“Fifteen… sixteen… twenty-one…” Wang Jue counted aloud while reaping his harvest, thoroughly enjoying the slaughter. Some of the strong men holding sickles simply buckled at the knees, collapsing onto the ground to await the blade. Others managed a brief counterattack, swinging their scythes toward Wang Jue, but before their first strike could land, their arm was gone.

I was instantly thrown into disarray. I clutched my hand deep in my pocket, tightly grasping the peach branch, searching for an opening to place it on Wang Jue, yet I dared not approach this murderous demon in his frenzied rampage. The village head lay slumped over the table, bleeding profusely, clinging to a last, ragged breath, watching the figure of Wang Jue as he spun and carved.