All Heavenly destiny reduced to ashes-Chapter 1505 - 274: Calamity

The family spent hundreds of years, generations upon generations of toil, striving for progress, only to win a chance to settle in the suburban outskirts of Shenjing, half considered Shenjing people. Although they clashed with some noble figures and had to leave, over a decade has passed, and the nobles often forget these little things that angered them.

So, decades later, thanks to the light of her children, she returned to Shenjing.

A Martial Artist of Miscellaneous Fate, a Junior Official.

Sounds unremarkable, merely cannon fodder in the Martial Arts World, something that could be turned to ash at a gesture from truly powerful martial artists, yet within the mundane world, this is considered an achievement worthy of ancestral pride.

Among the three sons and two daughters she raised, two turned out to be Dragons and Phoenixes; everyone said she inherited the family’s Destiny, and her misfortune turned to fortune.

She was truly proud, and even more enviable was her husband, who was a very good man, just like her father; without such, their children would not have been able to become accomplished.

A dispatch order, an act of filial piety, repeated offerings, repeated requests.

Finally, they returned to their ’hometown’.

Shenjing, Shenjing...

This time, the family once again settled in the suburban outskirts, while she moved into the city, living in the small courtyard her sons rented with their salaries.

What a blessing it was; when she was young and unformed, she left Shenjing, and now when she had lost her strength and could no longer labor, she returned to Shenjing.

Even the smell of the gutters in the city, smells better than the wildflowers in the countryside.

Everyone said she was fortunate, and she thought so too, so she always secretly thanked the ’heavens’.

Until that day.

An... impact.

One of her grandsons, a very quiet boy who liked reading, joined a club.

A group that comprised many offspring of families, many descendants of martial artists, many elites among civilian folks, simply put, merely an entourage revolving around the offspring of some prominent figure.

And this prominent figure was said to be an aide under King Jing; his offspring was the elite of the Gu Family’s Young Generation, the future Family Head - although in Shenjing, this identity wasn’t genuinely noble, it was undoubtedly true nobility.

Those surrounding him, countless in numbers... Thus, during the reckoning, blood flowed like rivers.

Why?

Why must all those following that noble figure die? Why must her grandson, her son, her husband, all her bloodline perish?

It was unreasonable; they did absolutely nothing, simply lending a hand, doing miscellaneous tasks in that club, working diligently in Shenjing for the noble’s service!

She did not understand, she did not know, yet she dared not resist, could only...

Accept and comply.

Just like the day her father did not return, not knowing anything, not understanding anything, yet still... accepting and complying with that fate.

Blood spattered, streets turned scarlet, Forbidden Guards kicked open her home’s door at dawn, right in front of her face, beheaded her husband, her three sons, her quiet grandson.

The heads rolled on the ground, the women in the house sobbed as they were dragged away, their grief silent.

She recalled her mother’s tearless wailing; she too shed not a tear this time.

Three sons perished, two daughters became courtesans; she was considered lucky, for in her aging, she was only sentenced to ’labor service’, cleaning streets, tidying up miscellaneous tasks, at least having a place to stay... in Shenjing.

Shenjing...

Was she truly miserable?

No.

Those years outside Shenjing, she had experienced, true pain, how could someone as fortunate as her have the right to comment?

Those at the village entrance teased by children, stoned, fingernails ripped out without knowing to resist, foolishly smiling ’fools’; those physically impaired, dysphoric, begging in streets ’fools’, or those beaten, martial arts cripples.

Those village women abducted, those farmers with hearts dug out by bandits to pair with wine... those who labored a lifetime, yet had to repay gambling debts for their children, withered men, those who single-handedly raised children, sent them away from their birthplace, only to be left alone, silently watching the town roads, waiting in despair.

In this world, if suffering were to be compared, it is ceaseless, endless like the Netherworld’s bitter sea, waves never ceasing.

But, was she truly lucky?

Not really.

There will always be those who are happy, living life without worry, even if facing dirt and sky backs to the heavens, they can at least give birth to children, generation after generation continue, leave a legacy, die by illness instead of by self-destruction when children can no longer bear them, having filial children leave peacefully in tears.

If happiness is to be compared, there will always be those who are happier above; this comparison never ends, enough to turn happiness into unhappiness, joy into pain.

That is the nature of the Human World.

That is the nature of the World.

The sick die, the wounded heal, the awake sleep, the pained awake. The unclear laugh, the clear likewise laugh.

Misfortune is such, happiness is such.

Since thirty thousand years ago, it has been this way, or one might say, since hundreds of thousands of years ago, after the Demon Calamity, it has been such.

Nothing to be said, nothing to resent.

Thus, in the end, when she learned her work was replaced by Puppetry, she could ’go home to await death’.