The Human Emperor Chapter 1317 - Mental Knot! (II)

Chapter 1317: Mental Knot! (II)
Translated by: Hypersheep325
Edited by: Michyrr
Wang Chong walked alone through the streets, buffeted by the night winds. He didn’t know what he wanted to do or where he wanted to go, only that his mind felt much more at ease like this.
Arf! Arf!
The sound of barking dogs, men and women, and the crying of children could be heard in the darkness. Wang Chong silently proceeded forward, attracting no interest.
“Father, I’m sorry…”
Nearby, in a home by the street, a lantern was lit, and one could hear the conversation of a father and son through the window.
“I was the one who was wrong. I shouldn’t have argued with you! I believed that the King of Foreign Lands was a great hero, that he was right. I didn’t think that he was an ambitious bastard who was plotting rebellion!”
Buzz!
Wang Chong felt his heart shudder, and his hands clenched together as waves of pain traveled through his body.
“Ah! All of it is in the past. There exists no grudge between father and son that can last a night. It’s fine as long as you understand! Not even I imagined that he would be like this, let alone you.”
The snatches of conversation from the father and son caused Wang Chong’s eyes to dim. He passed by the window and continued onward.
The night was bleak and cold, and Wang Chong felt rather chilly as he walked through the streets, which were so deserted that Wang Chong had not seen a single person since he had begun his walk.
“How impressive! The Confucian school has more than two thousand schools in Arabia now. The Caliph of Arabia is truly a trustworthy fellow. We had him all wrong.”
“Aren’t there several hundred thousand people in Arabia learning our Great Tang’s language at this time? In the future, all the Hu around us might be able to speak the Tang language!”
“Exactly! The son of my neighbor went to Khorasan for business, and I heard that he made piles of money. That’s the way of the world. If there’s money to be made, who would be willing to fight a war? This is all the fault of that King of Foreign Lands!”
“Right, right!”
Voices came from next to a wall, and then two figures, carrying a bucket of sticky paste and a brush, walked into the distance, having just finished posting something on the wall.
Buzz!
No one noticed Wang Chong standing in the darkness, his face as pale as a ghost’s as he gazed at those two men. Once the two of them were gone, Wang Chong stepped forward and saw that this was an announcement from the Confucian school on their accomplishments in the surrounding foreign countries.
‘The Eastern Turkic Khaganate has established an additional twenty-four schools with thirteen hundred students!’
‘The Western Turkic Khaganate has established an additional thirty-five schools with twenty-eight hundred students!’
‘A new open market has been opened in the northwest, with one million taels of gold being exchanged each month!’
‘Around the Beiting Protectorate, the Imperial Court has once more negotiated with the Western Turks, and both sides have agreed to pull back their defense lines an additional one hundred li!’
The entire wall was covered by announcements like these. But Wang Chong also spotted a few, much simpler announcements.
‘Bring down the King of Foreign Lands!’
‘The King of Foreign Lands is a murdering Demon King!’
‘Might Makes Right is heresy!’
The corners of these announcements were still wet. It was obvious that they had been posted up by that pair of men.
Wang Chong read these announcements with a pale face, his fingernails digging into his flesh and drawing blood. Each of the words on those announcements was a chisel stabbing deep into Wang Chong’s body.
There was no one to see him on this dark night, but this was precisely why he took every one of these words to heart. At this moment, his entire body was awash with pain. He once more felt like he was about to suffocate, that the cold and dark ocean was threatening once more to engulf him. No matter how much he struggled, he only sank deeper and deeper into the abyss.
Taptap!
Wang Chong’s pace became faster and faster as he madly dashed through the streets, his surroundings flowing past like streams of water.
He had done his utmost to not think about or mention court matters in this period of time, and Wang Chong had believed that he had forgotten, that he could put his burdens down. Only now did Wang Chong realize that these wounds were still open and hurt far more than he had imagined.
He dashed around like this for a long, long time, and only when he felt mentally and physically exhausted did he finally stop.
In front of him was a strange forest, and there was a dim light in the sky. Wang Chong realized that he had run all the way from the western part of the city to the southern part of the city.
“Who?”
Wang Chong suddenly turned his head, his eyes as sharp as swords as he stared at the forest.
All was quiet, with nary a sound.
“You followed me for so long; do you need me to force you out?”
Wang Chong opened his palm, immediately gathering energy within it into a sharp blade.
Just when Wang Chong was about to strike, a voice came from the trees some twenty steps away.
“Wait!”
Swoosh!
A figure jumped out of the lush trees and onto the ground. This was not a masked man in black, but a man wearing a green silk robe with the word ‘极'(Ultimate) on his chest.
“You’re from the Duke of E Residence?!”
Wang Chong was stunned, not having expected that the person who had followed him for half the night would be from the Duke of E Residence. Though this person had not stated as such, the clothes he wore were extremely similar to the uniform of the Ultimate Martial Army, let alone the token of the Duke of E Residence on his waist.
“King of Foreign Lands, forgive me!”
The man clasped his hands and deferentially bowed.
“This one had no hostile intentions, but was only delivering an invitation card as ordered!”
“Invitation card!”
Wang Chong’s brows creased in surprise, but his hostility faded.
For the Battle of Talas, the Duke of E Residence had sent two thousand of its Ultimate Martial Army to assist Wang Chong and the Great Tang. If not for the assistance of this army, victory would have been much more difficult to achieve.
Despite the Wang Clan having no former dealings with the Duke of E Residence, the Duke of E Residence had still lent Wang Chong two thousand soldiers after a single letter, filling Wang Chong with respect and admiration for its open-mindedness.
“This one cannot give a proper explanation. Your Highness will understand once you read it!”
The guard from the Duke of E Residence took out an invitation card inside an azure envelope and respectfully offered it.
“Understood! Thank the Duke of E for me!” Wang Chong indifferently said as he took the letter.
Although he was thankful for the kind intentions and assistance of the Duke of E, he was truly in no mood to pay anyone a visit.
“Milord, this one will take his leave first. But no matter what, Milord must read the contents of the invitation card!”
The Duke of E Residence guard sighed in relief once Wang Chong took the invitation card. As he backed up, he took one last glance at the card.
Swoosh!
The man finally jumped onto a tree branch and vanished with a flash.
Wang Chong looked up and saw that it wasn’t long until daybreak. Deeply sighing, he began to make his way back home.
……
Time continued to slowly pass.
Within his study, Wang Chong was seated cross-legged on the ground, white streams of energy rising from his body. His face was red and covered in sweat. After some time, Wang Chong exhaled and slowly withdrew his energy. His complexion instantly seemed to improve.
“Sir Zhang, many thanks,” Wang Chong said to the imperial physician in front of him. “This Scarlet Soul Pill truly is effective.”
“Milord has no need to be so courteous. Milord’s martial arts are deep and profound, and together with your astonishing talent, Milord should be fine after another period of rest and recuperation.”
The physician put away his medicine box as he spoke to Wang Chong.
“Sir Zhang, my thanks.”
Wang Chong nodded, stood up, and bowed.
The imperial physician quickly left the study with his medicine box. Meanwhile, Wang Chong walked up to his desk, unrolled a sheet of paper, and began to practice calligraphy.
In another few days, his two months of house arrest would be over. In this period of time, Wang Chong had no need to attend court, nor could he involve himself in the matters of the Bureau of Military Personnel. Practicing calligraphy was a way for him to spend time and alleviate his emotions.
“Sir Zhang, how is my child doing?”
As Wang Chong was focused on his calligraphy, he suddenly heard a voice far off in the distance.
“Mother!”
Wang Chong immediately recognized the voice, and his mind shook.
The familiar voice of the doctor replied, “Madam, I have already given His Highness the Scarlet Soul Pill. Following your orders, I have not told His Highness the truth. Although His Highness seems fine on the surface, his mental knot is only getting more and more serious. His Highness’s energy has clearly become even more unstable. The situation is not good!
“If there is no way of removing His Highness’s mental knot, or if he does not untie this knot on his own, it will only get more and more serious. When the time comes, not even this old man will be able to do anything.”
It was apparent from these voices that the two had chosen to hold this conversation very far away from Wang Chong’s study, but this was pointless for someone of Wang Chong’s cultivation level.
“Haaa… But what can be done!?”
Wang Chong’s mother clearly didn’t know that he was listening. The concern in her voice was palpable.
“Su Shixuan, Xu Keyi, all of you need to listen well. You are forbidden from telling Chong-er any news of the outside world in this period of time. Our Wang Clan has given enough for the Great Tang and doesn’t owe the empire anything.”
“Yes, Madam.”
The voices gradually faded away.
Wang Chong’s brush hovered in mid-air as he sat motionless on his chair. A complicated look flitted through his eyes, but he quickly calmed down and began to write once more.
Mental illnesses had to be treated with mental cures, but who could possibly cure his illness? Was there anyone that could cure a man who was being slandered by the entire world?
Wang Chong made vigorous strokes with his brush, writing faster and faster as he vented all his anger and feelings of injustice onto the paper. After a long while, Wang Chong put down the brush and sat motionless on his armchair. Only at times like this would a hint of pain appear on his face.