Chapter 8: I Feel Like I’m Performing a Concert in the Chaos of the Three Kingdoms

Wang Yan stepped out from the ranks, slowly ascending a high platform. Once he stood firm, his powerful voice spread across the entire scene. "Heaven may forgive a natural disaster, but self-inflicted harm is inescapable!" "Zhang Niujiao, you rebellious scoundrel, what right do you have to decide the lives of others?" Upon hearing this, numerous mocking or angry gazes fell upon Wang Yan. Zhang Niujiao's subordinates immediately drew their weapons, eager to rush onto the platform. Wang Er, seeing this, was shocked. He had just escaped death, only to walk into the lion's den. His master honestly had courage. Ren Hongchang clenched her fists, her heart pounding with anger and worry. Oh dear, my lord keeps making people anxious. How will I live my days with him?

Zhang Niujiao sneered, laughing coldly. He taunted: "Come, let me see what this so-called Great Yan Immortal Master is capable of." "I heard you can conjure steamed buns out of thin air and are impervious to weapons." "I'm curious: if I stab you, will your body reveal a golden hole or a silver one?" A subordinate quickly flattered Zhang Niujiao, "Leader, maybe it will be a bloody hole!" "Ha ha ha!" The surrounding Yellow Turban soldiers burst into laughter at this.

Wang Yan addressed the laughing soldiers, "How many days has it been since you had a full meal?" "Would you like to eat white steamed buns?" Upon hearing this, their laughter abruptly stopped. "Could he conjure buns out of thin air?" "I heard those buns are as delicious as heavenly food, but who knows if it's true." Every Yellow Turban soldier there was starving, and they had heard the rumors about Wang Yan's buns. Though they hadn't taken it seriously, the chance to verify it was now before them. Who wouldn't be curious?

Just as the soldiers hesitated, Wang Yan waved his hand. "Catch." Suddenly, dozens of white steamed buns fell from the sky, landing among the soldiers. Everyone was stunned, unable to believe their eyes as they looked at the white, fluffy buns. After a moment of shock, a soldier bent down, picked up a bun, and deeply inhaled its aroma. His face lit up with an expression of pure delight. Delicious! He then eagerly took a bite, his face filling with joy and satisfaction as he devoured it ravenously. Seeing this, the other soldiers snapped out of their daze, quickly crouching to pick up the buns and stuffing them into their mouths. "Wow, it's real food!" "Amazing, the Great Yan Immortal Master can conjure buns!" "These buns are delicious, so fragrant and sweet. I've never tasted anything so good!" The buns were quickly consumed, and seeing them unharmed after eating, the other soldiers looked on enviously. They no longer questioned whether Wang Yan was a true immortal; they regretted not receiving the immortal's gift.

Zhang Niujiao, dumbfounded, couldn't wrap his head around it. Could there be an immortal in this world? Capable of performing divine feats? The Great Teacher of the Yellow Turbans could only diagnose and treat illnesses with pre-prepared talismans and water. Had he ever conjured anything out of thin air? Who exactly was Wang Yan?

At that moment, Wang Yan spoke again, "Have you ever tasted white rice porridge?" The crowd was puzzled, "What is white rice porridge?" "Is it even more delicious than the steamed buns?" After a brief silence, the crowd erupted into noise. "Whatever it is, it must be something heavenly. Hurry, ask for it!" "Immortal Master, over here, please grant me some!" "Immortal Master, over here, we want white rice porridge!" The scene's excitement peaked. The unfamiliar yet enticing mention of white rice porridge filled everyone with eager anticipation, their voices rising to a fever pitch. Hearing the calls, Wang Yan suddenly felt like a superstar from his previous life, giving a grand concert in the chaotic Three Kingdoms era. Hey, friends over there, how are you? Yo, friends over here, you're great too. Let me hear which side of the Yellow Turbans has the loudest cheer today. I might give you special treatment. Oh, I forgot, none of you have had enough to eat.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Wang Yan composed himself and mentally commanded the system. [Host exchanges 50 bowls of white rice porridge, consuming 50 emotion points.] Then he waved his hand again. "Take it." In front of the stage, bowls of white rice porridge appeared. A breeze blew, spreading a delightful aroma. It made everyone's stomachs growl. "Wow, it's white rice porridge!" a soldier exclaimed. "Don't just stand there; grab it!" another soldier shouted, rushing forward.

The soldiers, snapping back to reality, dropped their weapons and raced towards the porridge, eager to get a taste of the immortal's blessing. With more people than porridge, the scene quickly descended into chaos, with soldiers fighting each other, some ending up bloodied. Wang Yan watched calmly, formulating his following speech. Though there were two thousand people, the limited number of buns and porridge created a genuine scarcity. "Look at yourselves, fighting each other for a few bowls of porridge. Is it worth it?" "Is this what you gain from following Zhang Jiao's rebellion?" Wang Yan's powerful voice cut through the chaos, seemingly holding a magical quality. The soldiers, hearing this, gradually stopped fighting and looked up at the imposing figure on the stage. Many fell silent, joining the Yellow Turbans out of desperation. But could following Zhang Jiao change their fate? "Let me tell you what you get from following Zhang Jiao's rebellion." "It's not a stable life!" "Nor delicious food!" "But more hunger and danger!"

His words struck deep, effectively putting an end to the recruitment rally.

[Emotion points +51]

[Emotion points +82]

[Emotion points +99]

The old farmer from earlier, now with tears of excitement, shouted, "This is an immortal sent to guide us!" "I may be ignorant, but my eyes aren't blind!" "Immortal Master, quickly rid us of this scourge!" With his shout, all eyes turned to Zhang Niujiao. Zhang Niujiao, now pale with anger, tightened his grip on his sword.