Chapter 256: The Appearance of the Divine Dragon (12)
There is one figure so great, so impossibly refined, that it’s hard to believe he was ever one of those primitive Zhongyuan folk.
The first and greatest historian of Zhongyuan—indeed, arguably the greatest historian in all of human history, across every era and continent: Sima Qian.
Sima Qian chronicled the ancient past, writing the entire known history of his world as a single individual. A titanic achievement. Yet he never abandoned his duty as a journalist.
He wrote vividly of emperors and commoners alike, recording the life of the court and the street with equal care. He suppressed his grudges and personal biases to write as objectively as possible—a true reporter to the end.
Granted, he had a particular grudge against Emperor Wu of Han, the man who castrated him. But then again, you could forgive a eunuch for holding a bit of a grudge.
As a journalist, he was noble. A rare, pure soul. A far cry from the absolute garbage littering Qing’s homeland—human trash that should honestly be set on fire.
Not that comparing humans to toxic, non-recyclable waste was even a fair fight.
Anyway, his masterwork was called the Records of the Grand Historian, also known as Shiji. But of course, in typical lazy Zhongyuan fashion, even the four-syllable name was too long, so they just shortened it to Shi Ji—"Historical Record." Riveting.
In it, he wrote, “A true man dies for the one who understands him.”
Which meant that the gratitude the ronin felt toward Qing... went far beyond what two syllables like “thanks” could express.
See, ronin are disposable by design.
They’re used as cannon fodder, trapspringers, and meat shields. You get stabbed? Replace him. About to die? Replace him. Already dead? Too bad. Replace him.