fictionpage Chapter 12: Kneels kneel, spine rises.
Chapter 12: Kneels kneel, spine rises.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
It wasn't the sound of gunfire.
It's the dull, teeth-grinding sound that comes from the kneecap making intimate contact with the hard concrete floor.
Just now, those few influential figures were holding selfie sticks, spitting as they spoke at the camera, criticizing "wherever the sun and moon shine, it is all Han territory" as "extreme populism."
At this moment, they were like mollusks whose spines had been removed, kneeling in unison before the Taishan Stone.
There was no warning whatsoever.
It wasn't a polite kneeling; it was a full prostration, with the forehead pounding against the ground, like the most devout believer worshipping the true God.
The scene was deathly silent.
The only sound was the rustling of the wind through the red cloth.
After a one-second pause, the live stream chat exploded like a burst dam.
"Holy crap! What's going on? Performance art?"
"Wasn't that 'rational view of the world' just denouncing it as feudal superstition? How come they're kneeling down faster than anyone else?"
"His expression looked off; his face was purple, like he was being held down!"
Something's definitely not right.
The influential blogger "Rational View of the World," whose real name is Hu Youde, is currently experiencing the most terrifying moment of his life.
He wanted to stand up.
My brain frantically sends commands to my legs, but my body feels like it no longer belongs to me.
It felt like carrying two mountains on my shoulders; it was a tremor from the depths of my soul, an instinctive fear of predators ingrained in my genes.
"ah--!"
Hu Youde strained with all his might, letting out a roar, veins bulging on his neck, and bloodshot eyes.
"This is persecution! This is physical harm!"
He shouted at the top of his lungs at the phone camera that had fallen to the ground.
"Family members! Can you see that? They're panicking!"
"They used infrasound weapons! Or some kind of nerve gas!"
"This is the murder of freedom of speech! I want to appeal to international human rights organizations..."
"Noisy."
Two words.
It was devoid of any emotional coloring, yet it resonated clearly in the minds of everyone present.
next second.
Hu Youde's voice abruptly stopped.
He was horrified to discover that his mouth was as if it had been sewn shut; no matter how hard he tried to open and close it, he couldn't make a sound.
The other few KOLs who knelt down were so frightened that they wet their pants, and a foul stench filled the square.
"this……"
Wang Yijun stood to the side, his eyes wide open, and subconsciously looked at Zhao Wenjin beside him.
Zhao Wenjin was also completely bewildered, but he reacted quickly and immediately gestured to the director behind him, signaling to continue the live stream and not to cut it off.
"These barbarian dogs dare to look directly at the majesty of the Han people?"
Li Chen's icy voice traveled through the dragon-shaped necklace and into the depths of their consciousness.
"Since they like to grovel before foreigners, then let them kneel."
"Kneel for a full hour. If it's even a second less, I'll break their legs."
Enough!
Wang Yijun's lips twitched slightly, but an indescribable sense of pleasure welled up inside him.
In recent years, these public intellectuals have stirred up trouble online, smeared heroes, and made sarcastic remarks.
The government has wanted to deal with them for a long time, but has been unable to do so due to various reasons.
Now things are much better; our ancestors are personally teaching us how to be good people!
"Everyone..."
Zhao Wenjin straightened his collar, preparing to step forward and smooth things over.
Suddenly, a commotion arose in the crowd.
"Excuse me, please make way..."
A slightly aged voice rang out.
The crowd automatically parted to form a path.
A wheelchair was pushed out.
An elderly man sat in a wheelchair with sparse, white hair and his face covered with age spots that resembled deep ravines.
He was wearing a faded old military uniform, his chest covered with medals of all sizes.
Special Merit Medal, Independence and Freedom Medal, Liberation Medal...
The metal badges clanged against each other in the sunlight, producing a crisp "ding-dong" sound—an echo of history.
The person pushing the wheelchair was a young girl, who appeared to be the old man's granddaughter.
"Grandpa, let's watch from here, there are too many people ahead."
The girl gently advised.
"No... push me over there."
The old man's voice trembled, and his cloudy eyes stared intently at the Taishan stone, at the inscription on it: "Where the sun and moon shine, all is Han land."
The girl couldn't refuse, so she pushed the wheelchair to the front.
They were less than three meters away from those influential figures who were kneeling on the ground.
This scene created a highly impactful image.
On one side are the so-called "elites" who are dressed in fine clothes but kneel on the ground, defecating and urinating.
On one side is a frail old soldier with severed limbs, sitting upright in a wheelchair.
The old man shakily extended his right hand.
That hand was as dry as tree bark, and the index and middle fingers were missing sections, which were frostbitten years ago.
He wanted to salute.
However, his right arm had its nerves severed by shrapnel in a battle many years ago, and it had atrophied to the point where it was just skin and bones, making it difficult for him to even hold chopsticks.
But he still tried his best to lift it up.
One attempt failed.
Two attempts, failed.
His arms could only be raised to his chest before falling limply down.
The old man's eyes reddened, and turbid tears streamed down his deeply lined cheeks.
"Squad leader... Company commander... We won..."
He murmured to himself, his voice choked with emotion.
"Our country has stood tall now... even the rocks dare to speak..."
"But I... I'm a useless person, I can't even manage a proper bow..."
The chat in the live stream room fell silent.
The netizens who were just making jokes and mocking each other are now silent.
A bittersweet feeling spread along the internet cable to every screen.
"Dragon Lord".
Li Changgeng tightened his grip on the necklace slightly, whispering to himself, "This kneeling shouldn't have been made."
"I know."
For the first time, Li Chen's voice lacked some of its haughty indifference and gained a touch of the vicissitudes of time.
"Two thousand years ago, my great Han cavalry looked just like this."
Though the body dies, the soul endures.
"Since he is a heroic spirit who guarded this land, I will allow him to stand!"
The words fell.
The golden light on the Taishan stone tablet, which had been restrained, suddenly burst forth!
"Buzz—!"
This time, it's no longer about intimidation.
A warm feeling, like a gentle spring breeze.
A wisp of golden light, visible to the naked eye, flew out from each stroke of the character "Han," circled in the air, and then went straight into the old man's brow!
"What's that? Special effects?"
"Holy crap, why do I feel all warm and cozy?"
Amidst the horrified gazes of the audience, the elderly man in the wheelchair suddenly shuddered.
His originally ashen complexion visibly turned rosy.
Even more astonishingly, his right arm, which had atrophied for half a century, actually emitted a "crackling" sound as if its bones were popping!
The shriveled muscles swelled up as if inflated, and the necrotic nerves reconnected under the nourishment of the golden light.
The old man stared wide-eyed at his hands in disbelief.
That long-lost sense of power...
came back!
He braced himself on the armrests of the wheelchair with both hands.
"Grandpa! What are you doing?"
The granddaughter was startled and quickly went to help her up.
"Don't move!"
The old man shouted loudly, his voice full of energy, showing no trace of his previous weakness.
Under the gaze of thousands of eyes and watched by tens of millions of netizens in a live broadcast.
The veteran, paralyzed for thirty years, trembled slightly in his legs, and then—
He suddenly stood up!
Like a broken spear, reforged in fire, it pierces the sky once more!
"Snapped!"
Their heels slammed together.
He raised his right hand, his five fingers together, drawing a strong and powerful arc, and stopped steadily next to his temple.
A perfect military salute!
"Veteran Liu Lianxun, back in the ranks!"
This roar was as loud as a bell, and its power reached the heavens!
Quiet.
A deathly silence.
Immediately following was a deafening roar of applause and cheers!
"Long live!!"
"A medical miracle! This is a medical miracle!"
"What medical miracle? This must be a miracle from our ancestors!"
"See that? Those public intellectuals are kneeling, while the old hero is standing! This is destiny!"
Zhao Wenjin felt a chill run down his spine, and goosebumps rose all over his body.
Steady!
It's completely under control!
He stepped in front of the camera, facing the entire nation, his voice passionate.
"This is neither superstition nor magic!"
"This is the power of the spirit! It is the highest reward bestowed upon those who protect this land by the five thousand years of Chinese destiny!"
"Those with a strong spine will be helped by the gods; those with weak knees will remain kneeling forever!"