Kill Me More Times, I’ll Become Invincible

The sun was rising, and the sunlight shone through the clouds.

Under the sun, the vegetable market gate in the Imperial Capital was bustling, as it was the time for the market.

Today, the street of the vegetable market gate was bustling with people, with street vendors carrying baked cakes and shouting for business, their voices constantly heard.

At the entrance of the shops on both sides of the street, the owners brought out a wooden table and placed it in front of their own doors, then brought out a wine jug and wine cups, setting up three cups of white wine.

"Shopkeeper, are you worshipping the gods at your doorstep today? Not going to the north of the city?" A passerby, who was a regular customer, happened to see this scene and asked.

"To pay respects to the gods, we naturally have to go to the Taoist temple in the northern part of the city. Which god are we paying respects to today?" The shopkeeper said, busy and mysteriously.

"Don’t you know? The government has posted notices these past few days, and today is the day for the execution parade. I’m serving soul wine here."

"Otherwise, why do you think the market square is particularly lively today, with some visibly strong martial artists?"

"The execution parade?" The passerby’s eyes lit up instantly.

"Who is going to the execution ground to lose their head? What crime did they commit, and how many people?"

The passerby looked around and indeed saw many strong-looking individuals at the market square today.

And at the entrances of the shops on both sides, not just one, but several had set up offering tables or small cases, with bowls of soul wine poured or some fried snacks cooked. For a moment, the aroma of food and alcohol filled the air.

And this is not the most elaborate part; there are even people who newly put up red couplets at the entrances of their shops, hanging up bright red silk, exuding a festive atmosphere.

If you didn’t know, you might think today is a major festival or a good time to celebrate something auspicious.

"There are many people offering soul wine, but who is the important person losing their head today? With such a grand scene, how many people will die?" The familiar customer observed and was amazed.

"I have been in the Imperial Capital for so many years, and this is the most spectacular one I’ve seen. They say a group of rebels were escorted to the Imperial Capital, and hundreds of them died along the way. The executioner’s executioner’s axe must be blunt by now. It seems that there was never such a grand setup as today."

Executions at the market entrance have happened throughout history.

Especially in the Imperial Capital, this execution ground at the market entrance has continued since ancient times, for hundreds, even thousands, of years. Countless heads have been severed, and it has become famous.

The remnants of the previous dynasty, the powerful and influential people of this dynasty, and the wicked and evil criminals… the number of the dead is countless.

The more wicked and evil the deceased, and the more prominent their status, the more onlookers there are. The market entrance becomes even more lively.

This execution ground at the market entrance has become one of the famous sights in the Imperial Capital!

When you come to the Imperial Capital, if you don’t go to the market entrance to witness an execution, it’s like going to Sichuan without eating spicy food. It’s missing something.

"This time, there is only one person who died, and his name seems to be Qiao Zhong," said the shopkeeper.

"Only one?" This regular customer instantly lost interest.

"Then it’s not interesting at all."

"Killing someone is too easy. One swipe of a knife and the person is gone. It’ll be over in a flash. What’s the point of watching?"

They were people from the Imperial Capital, their perspective and knowledge were certainly not comparable to those from the countryside.

People from the countryside, when they see a dead person, they all gather around noisily to get a look.

As for people from the Imperial Capital, they have witnessed countless beheadings at the market square, including prestigious officials and nobles. Now, it was just one person being executed, it simply couldn’t pique their interest.

When a person loses their head, it’s not like there will be a river of blood. What’s so exciting about that?

"Well, you just don’t understand," the innkeeper laughed.

"If there’s such a big fuss over just one person being executed, it naturally means this person has an extraordinary status or has committed something extraordinary!"

"And this guy Qiao Zhong, he did a lot of bad things, not only assassinated the current Emperor, but also blasphemed the idols in the temple…"

"Oh my, how can this person be so foolish? Isn’t he afraid of angering the gods in the heavens? All the high-ranking immortals in the temple are also there."

"Well, the retribution has come now. He was caught on the spot by the Emperor and imprisoned in the heavenly prison for some time. It must have been very torturous for him."

On a bench outside the tea house entrance.

Dao Zhen, dressed in casual clothes, glanced slightly upwards and had many thoughts running through his mind as he looked at the two people chatting next door.

"How can these common people be so foolish? The knife didn’t fall on their heads."

"This guy Qiao Zhong and the people from the Wuji Association died while trying to assassinate the Emperor and resist our Immortal Gate."

The execution of Qiao Zhong was extraordinary.

In the matter of assassinating Emperor Yonghe, the infamous Martial Saint is said to have been struck dead on the spot by a heavenly thunder, completely obliterated.

And Qiao Zhong, as the only death row prisoner who didn’t die on the spot, naturally received a lot of attention from martial artists.

Martial Saint’s notorious name spread throughout the world. In the past, the Wuji Association’s arsenal gathered martial arts from all over the world. Countless martial artists from the Imperial Capital wanted to find this Qiao Zhong and inquire about the situation on that day.

"Ever since the death of Martial Saint, even the Wuji Association has been silent. We rarely hear any news from them."

Dao Zhen looked around. Besides him, a lot of martial artists had gathered at the marketplace, including some powerful ones.

"I heard that some martial artists refuse to give up and want to use Qiao Zhong to find Martial Saint’s arsenal. Hah, they are fools. Even if Martial Saint’s arsenal exists, what value does it have? No matter how strong they are in martial arts, can they surpass Martial Saint? They are just mortals who can be killed by a single heavenly strike from a cultivator…"

Dao Zhen sat quietly, sipping his tea, feeling quite content.

Martial Saint was a blazing sun, but now this sun was easily devoured by the night. From now on, the sky of martial artists would be a long night, while the immortals reside high above the sky, looking down on the mortal world.

And at this moment…

Clang, clang, clang!

The tight sound of drums suddenly rang out, overshadowing the noisy voices in the marketplace.

The people who were in the middle of bargaining at the market stopped talking and turned their heads to see where the sound was coming from.

Finally, the time has come!

A large group of sturdy soldiers and officials, numbering in the hundreds, approached from a distance. Their long knives were already unsheathed, emitting a chilling and menacing aura as they forced the pedestrians blocking their path.

Leading these soldiers was the Heavenly Prison Warden named Qin Shiqing, who was riding a horse.

As one of the Spirit Refining martial artists stationed in the heavenly prison, he was appointed as the executioner to oversee the execution site and prevent any unexpected incidents.

"Here they come!"

"Oh, indeed it’s quite the spectacle. Although only one person will lose their head today, this show of force is no less grand than beheading a hundred men before."

The people at the vegetable market hurriedly moved to the sides, making way for the soldiers, and then eagerly craned their necks to look towards the center of the soldier formation.

It was a prisoner carriage pulled by horses, with only one person inside.

Inside the carriage was an elderly man with slightly gray temples, who looked beyond sixty and no longer young.

Despite his advanced age, the old man had a strong physique. He was dressed in prisoner’s clothing, covered in dirt, with disheveled gray hair hanging over his shoulders. His lips were dry and cracked, as he stood in the narrow confines of the carriage.

The cage he stood in was very small, a several-hundred-kilogram iron cage that could only accommodate a person standing. There was no room to sit or stretch, with only his head poking out for the crowd to see his appearance clearly.

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