"The problem is I'm not sure either, how should I put this?"
Yu Ziqing left Dinghai City, walked some distance, then placed both hands on the ground, absorbing the nearby Fire Qi, once again conducting a thorough scouring.
As more and more Fire Qi was absorbed, the little flame inside the Red Ape's chest began to grow slowly, and the Red Ape became increasingly calm, tranquil as if entering meditation.
Over a month passed in a blink, and Yu Ziqing's speed was very fast, gradually absorbing all the Fire Qi along his path.
And from the sky above, looking down, a swath of scorched earth covered in ash stretched out, radiating from Dinghai City in all directions.
After a month had passed, the vicinity of Dinghai City had started to see some tenacious vegetation sprouting new buds after heavy rains, signaling the beginning of new life.
Three months later, when Yu Ziqing stood up again, he could feel that the flame in the Red Ape's chest had turned into a blazing red fire, burning vigorously. The hair on the Red Ape's head, as it moved, began to emit sparks.
Then with a whoosh, the flames ignited, and atop its head, the red fire slowly burned. The fierce look on the Red Ape's face also faded, replaced by a calm demeanor, as it sat there quietly, like an old monk in deep meditation.
Yu Ziqing closed his eyes and sensed for a moment; touching those flames, he felt as if there were flames burning in his chest, a thread of his thoughts ignited, turning into raging fire, burning.
In an instant, the world before Yu Ziqing seemed to transform into streaks of light, rapidly receding.
His gaze seemed to witness the origins of the Sealing.
He saw the southern Ze Country, with its brilliant waterways, rampant with demons, and to the north, the land parched, stretching a thousand li of barren red earth.
He witnessed that year when countless refugees starved to death, and also saw people taking advantage of the chaos to make a fortune.
He saw within that turmoil, even more people seizing the opportunity to cause trouble.
Amidst a cloud of dark smoke and miasma, his gaze followed the light, and he saw a middle-aged man.
He saw his daughter taken by others, witnessed his parents starving and sickening to death on the road of escape.
Until he saw the man finally arrive at a city, only to be treated as a major suspect and thrown into jail.
He was forced to confess, yet he was illiterate and didn't even know what crime he was confessing to.
Finally, on the day of his death, a prison guard told him.
Some person of power had committed an act, and it was too big to cover up; it was just his bad luck that he bore a striking resemblance to that person, so he had to die in that person's place.
His heart burned with anger, yet felt dead like ash, knowing there was no chance for life.
Just before the execution, when he asked for his final meal, he cried out injustice, only to have someone kick the meal over.
At that moment, the rage in his chest became uncontrollable; his entire being's grief and indignation fused into that rage, his whole body's blood, his entire existence, seemed to be burning.
He left behind a Curse, slamming his head into a stone pillar.
"May heaven send down a rageful fire to burn you wayward ghosts of the human world, and bring forth a bright and clear universe."
His body, his Divine Soul, his flesh and blood, all disappeared within the flames. In the end, the rage in his chest turned into a flame the size of a fingernail, as if it could be extinguished by a mere puff of wind.
That small flame fell from the sky, growing weaker and weaker, and by the time it hit the ground, it was just a tiny speck the size of a grain of rice.
And then, silently, it shattered.
Turning into tiny sparks that scattered in all directions.
However, those faint sparks about to die out managed to ignite the rage in the heart of a prisoner in the next cell.
The fire began to burn.
Fire, great fire, an unstoppable blaze that no water could extinguish, spread with a slow but unstoppable momentum.
He saw the flames seemingly move with intent, spreading in one direction.
Then, not far behind the county government office, he saw a household where the flames, like a surging river, rushed straight towards it. The fire ignited everything there, making all Dharma Methods and defenses seem utterly useless.
He saw a young man who bore a striking resemblance to the middle-aged man be devoured by the flames, burning vigorously within them.
He saw another middle-aged man who looked somewhat like the young man rush out in terror, desperate to douse the flames, but the Dharma Method in his hand had no effect; the young man's very body was the source of the fire.
Yu Ziqing knew their names.
The first victim of injustice, Wang Erniu.
The County Magistrate Zhao Lin, his son Zhao Bin.
The father and son were purified alive in the midst of the flames.
But the ignited rage could not be stopped.
Because both inside and outside the city, countless people were already harboring a burning anger.
The area had long become a powder keg; now, those tiny sparks, those small flares of rage, were the very fuse that set it all off.
The flames spread faster and faster, eventually becoming a wave of fire sweeping across in all directions.
Seeing this, all the visions seemed to be consumed by the fire, leaving behind only the flames in view.
Yu Ziqing closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and suppressed the rage in his heart.
After a long while, Yu Ziqing opened his eyes, his tone laced with anger.
"I am now certain, even the records in An History Book cannot be relied upon.
In the end, historical books are written by people, and if they are written by people, there will inevitably be bias.
What nonsense about heaven's descent of Alien Fire, who knows which fool was holding the pen, whitewashing a facade of peace."