The boisterous New Year celebrations had finally passed, and after the Beginning of Spring, things in the Prime Minister's residence once again became busy. Search: \Full\ Book\ God\ Station\ to read high-quality literature for free.

Spring, the beginning of a new year, the season when all things come to life. For the people in the Prime Minister's residence, what needed to be done was to settle the accounts of the past year. The disaster relief efforts were not yet complete. Even now, the north and south of the country were still submerged in a blanket of white snow. They had done everything they could, and the rest was up to the local officials.

As the snow gradually melted, the data collected from various regions did not inspire optimism or joy. However, for the others in the Prime Minister's residence, they still invested considerable enthusiasm in formulating plans and goals for the new year. After all, this was a pragmatic attitude. The past was the past, and they couldn't simply wallow in reflection and do nothing.

Recently, for Ning Yi, it was a relatively complex and stagnant period. On the one hand, during the New Year holidays, he spent time with his family, visited Yao Zunian, Ji Kun, Wenren Bu'er, and the Wang family, and was mostly smiling amidst the busyness. He was also well-versed in the various plans and prospects of the Prime Minister's residence. At least in terms of numbers and order, no one in the residence could surpass him. On the other hand, in his spare moments, he pondered what to do next but felt somewhat indecisive.

The death of Zhang Jue was a heavy blow to everyone in the Prime Minister's residence, but it was just that – heavy. They could not empathize with Ning Yi's thoughts, and Ning Yi could not say that he felt the Wu Dynasty was about to fall because the logic that formed this conclusion was still insufficient. In everyone's view, since Zhang Jue was dead, the investment in the north would become even more critical. In any case, they had to keep the remaining framework standing – this was only right. Even Qin Si'yuan, after a brief period of depression, returned to his busy official duties and did not allow the discouraging emotions to affect him too much.

Ning Yi was also uncertain about the outcome of this matter. There were still many things he could do, but for him, the bigger problem was not this feeling, but the fact that as a modern person, he had once stood in such a position, and his tolerance for certain things and certain forms of stupidity was limited. However, that crazy, proactive idea of "better to advance an inch than to stand still" had become distant to him.

Different forks in the road lay before him, and he had not yet been able to see them clearly, or rather, there was no opportunity or motivation to prompt him to make a decision.

In the Prime Minister's residence, besides the daily official duties, what could excite everyone was probably the books annotated by Qin Si'yuan. The prototype of Neo-Confucianism aroused great interest in Yao Zunian and others. After Monk Jueming returned, he also regarded it as a treasure. For Ning Yi, he could also understand that it was indeed a treasure, but his feeling about this book was different from others.

After all, Ning Yi understood the general path of development of Neo-Confucianism and many other disciplines. He had respect in his heart for Qin Si'yuan's presentation of this Neo-Confucianism. If possible, Ning Yi hoped that it could survive and continue to develop in the collision of people's thoughts. But Ning Yi did not have the idea of research. He didn't have the mood for academic research. As for the rules and regulations derived from it, Ning Yi himself was too influenced by modern management and modern liberalism. Ning Yi was willing to protect it, but as for researching and promoting it, he would refrain.

In his heart, the expectations for people and society differed somewhat from the expectations for Neo-Confucianism. This difference may not be that big – all philosophies in the world have something in common. Even in later generations, Ning Yi believed that the emergence of a new social philosophy should be based on Neo-Confucianism, idealist philosophy, and other Confucian studies. Changes could be made, even great changes, but to overthrow them completely would be foolish.

Since he was not this type of academic researcher, and his own values were already stable, Ning Yi's view of this was, in the end, just appreciation, and admiration for an old man's wisdom in reflecting on and exploring society. But he did not participate in further research.

The opportunity appeared in February of this year. When it appeared, Ning Yi never thought that such a piece of news would appear before his eyes.

**************

February 2nd, the Dragon Raises Its Head.

In the capital, the snow gradually melted, and all things began to sprout. Recently, the large amount of data on the deaths of people in disaster areas, collected from various regions, was depressing. The original expectation was that the best-case scenario would be around 50,000 deaths from starvation, but after deducting those who froze to death in various places, it had already exceeded the target. Even though the statistics in various places were still vague at this time, this conclusion could still be drawn. In particular, in Jinghu South Road after the death of Lin Quting, in this area alone, the number of disaster victims who could be attributed to starvation exceeded 18,000.

However, if compared to the data from previous famine years, and in comparison with the scale and severity of this famine, the entire disaster relief effort could be said to be unprecedentedly successful. But this success also made people feel silent.

Wenren Bu'er knew that Ning Yi had not been in a good mood recently. He seemed to be thinking about something other than official duties. Sometimes, he would appear absent-minded. At first, he thought that the other party's depression was because of the disaster relief, but Ning Yi seemed very indifferent to the unsatisfactory results of the disaster relief:

"The most ideal result can only be achieved when everything is in place. After Lord Lin's death, I understood that it was impossible to achieve the expected result, and... this kind of disaster, it's also the first time I've done disaster relief, all the forecasts, although there is data, most are also taken for granted... In short, I've also tried my best."

Ning Yi would say this, throwing some depressing numbers into the drawer. But the indifference and coldness on his face made people feel that he seemed to be moving other thoughts. It was on the morning of February 2nd that he walked past Ning Yi's office and saw Ning Yi leaning against the desk there, not knowing what he was thinking. After half an hour, Ning Yi was still standing like that, facing away from the door, his hands on the edge of the table. Wenren Bu'er then walked in: "Liheng, what are you thinking about?"

Ning Yi turned back to look at him, his gaze containing a prudence like that of a stranger, as if he were looking at something... unreal. That kind of gaze was not friendly. The Ning Yi that Wenren Bu'er knew was always calm, humorous, and decisive. He had never seen such an expression in Ning Yi's eyes. Ning Yi tilted his head and looked at him for a while, then stretched out a hand, pointed at him, and then gradually showed a smile, grabbed a piece of paper from his hand, and slapped it on the table: "You, take a look at this."

It was a piece of intelligence from the Secret Investigation Department from the north. Wenren Bu'er took it and looked at it. It was intelligence about the death of the original Liao general Yelu Dashi. Wenren Bu'er had already read it: "What's wrong?"

Ning Yi sat back on the chair and did not speak. Wenren Bu'er then read it again: "I know that Yelu Dashi is also a great hero, but after he left, he didn't bring many people... This Kereit tribe has also been rising in the grasslands for some time. Uh... Liheng, could it be that you want to support this... *Borjigin* Temujin to compete with the Jin people again? This is not a bad idea..."

Ning Yi looked at him, and after a moment, he laughed: "Nurturing a tiger is a disaster... it's enough to nurture one tiger... how can this one be nurtured. Uh, I... I thought of some other things, it's okay, I'll tell you after I figure it out. This... give it to me first."

Wenren Bu'er gave him the intelligence: "Really nothing?"

"Nothing." Ning Yi replied without much sincerity. Wenren Bu'er left the room, waited a little while, and heard Ning Yi's voice inside, as if murmuring: "******... How can this kind of thing happen... This is fake, right...******, just kidding... this is too reckless..."

Wenren Bu'er rolled his eyes, tilted his head, and walked away in confusion.

In the room, Ning Yi sat upright in the chair, looking at the intelligence, and then directly stood the intelligence up, placing it on the table in front of him. His expression was first somewhat illusory and funny. It felt as if the whole world was just a bad joke played by someone, but gradually, his gaze began to become fierce and serious, and his eyebrows gradually furrowed.

*Borjigin* Temujin!

Genghis Khan...

This was a name a hundred times more ferocious than Wanyan Aguda. Wenren Bu'er said to support him... In the history, this name led the Mongols on the grasslands to conquer the east and plunder the west, flattening the entire Han people halfway. The territory of the huge empire extended to Europe, and the Europeans were so traumatized that they called the Orientals "****" until the 20th century. And this was never the glory of the Chinese from the beginning. For that era, the Mongols' invasion of the Song Dynasty was a blatant, upright, and devastating invasion, even more thorough than the later Japanese invasion of China. Later generations said that the Mongols have been a part of the Chinese nation since ancient times, but it was only after they were assimilated by Confucian culture that everyone found a way to gild their faces... Support...

He stared at that name for a long time—not knowing how long—before the expression on his face gradually became calm and indifferent. He pressed his hands on his knees, and at a certain moment, a bloodthirsty and ferocious look appeared in his eyes, a look only seen moments before a beast devoured someone. That expression flashed in his eyes, and he reached out to open the drawer, took out a stack of papers placed on the upper layer of the drawer, tore them up casually, and threw them into the wooden basket for trash next to him.

Those were some adjustments and plans he had recently made for the Bamboo Chronicle, but... they were too superficial after all.

Standing up, his fingers tapped slowly on the desk a few times, then he took a breath and put the intelligence back in the drawer. When he walked out the door, it was the afternoon sun. When he walked out of the courtyard, someone greeted him. He smiled, patted the other person's shoulder, but his footsteps did not stop: "I'm going back first."

When he arrived at the side courtyard of the Prime Minister's residence and got into the carriage, the curtain was lowered, concealing his contemplative face in a darkness.

The convoy left the Prime Minister's residence and moved forward all the way. At some point, the convoy suddenly stopped, and shouts of killing suddenly rose on the street. Someone was shouting: "Eliminate the inner demon."

"Kill this demon!"

"Where is he!"

The wind gently brushed aside the curtain, and the confrontation between assassins and guards had already begun. Ning Yi sat in the carriage, pondering this somewhat absurd and somewhat serious reality, his fingers tapping on the side of the seat. Until a certain moment, two grappling hooks suddenly hooked onto the opposite carriage. With a bang, the carriage wall and roof were pulled open. He sat there, and only then saw the scene on the road ahead.

Someone shouted: "Be careful!"

Something shot from the front of the field of view. Ning Yi looked at the light spot, without dodging. An arrow shot into the carriage wall next to his head with a loud noise. A big man roared like a tiger in front.

The Jianghu assassination against Ning Yi that erupted in the capital was not the first time. This time, a group of well-known experts in the Jianghu came, and the person rushing up directly was Park Tianweng, known as the Hegemon of Lingnan. He punched down with a roar like a tiger. The evil reputation of the inner demon had spread throughout the Green Forest world during this period, causing him not to dare to take it lightly. And in front of him, the cold-eyed scholar had already greeted him with a powerful punch, directly hitting his face.

Blood splattered across the sky, mixed with the sound of bones shattering. The power of the Six Paths Breaking Skill, pushed to the extreme, made a thunderous explosion. Park Tianweng's entire body flew backwards, tumbling more than ten feet away. In the melee, the steady and cold-eyed demon had already walked off the carriage and was heading towards Park Tianweng. Not far away, someone came running. She was a female Green Forest hero in her forties. She rushed past the guards' blockade with the "Eight Steps Chase Cicada" skill, and the next moment, the demon's left hand was raised slightly to the side. With a loud bang mixed with flames, rolling iron sand rushed straight into her lower abdomen, stopping her whole person in the air, falling down, with flesh and blood flying everywhere.

The demon opened fire, but his footsteps did not stop at all, and he drew out a strangely shaped military knife in his right hand. Park Tianweng got up from the ground, retreating. He raised a steel knife he picked up from the ground and delivered two blows towards the other party, but the other party hardly stopped. The Tyrant Saber technique smashed the other party's blade open, and the second blade cut off his wrist. The third step chopped on his shoulder, and the fourth blade chopped on his forehead. With several sounds of "puff puff puff puff", his chest, lower abdomen, and thighs kept flying out blood as he retreated, until he fell to the ground. In his blood-filled eye sockets, he saw the cold eyes looking down at him, with a short gun in his left hand, the muzzle pointing at him, the big round black hole.

"The disaster is almost over, and you guys still don't stop..."

With another bang, something exploded like a watermelon.

Zhu Biao leaned over to the side with a long gun, somewhat surprised: "Although... I know you have some skills... How suddenly you seem to be a lot more powerful?"

"I thought of some things, and there are no more scruples. Of course, people will be more powerful..."

"Is that so?" Zhu Biao blinked his eyes, "You didn't have any scruples before."

"Anyway, I'm about to be invincible in the world, you just need to know it, don't spread it around..." Ning Yi laughed, then became a little tired, "I want to go home and see... as soon as possible."

****************

All the way back home, the smell of blood on his body had not dissipated when the carriage entered the yard. Ning Yi stood in the backyard and looked at the tables, chairs, houses, trees, and walls in the yard. After thinking about it, he stepped inside. In the side courtyard, Xiao Chan and Ning Xi came jumping over, probably seeing the bloodstains on his body, they were a little worried, and were about to check, but she and Ning Xi were hugged by Ning Yi. This continued for a moment. Xiao Chan thought that Ning Yi was injured: "Husband, what's wrong, what's wrong... Let me see..." But the child was not used to the smell of blood on his father's body, and turned his head away and said: "Daddy, stinky, stinky..." Ning Yi smiled and stuck to his face.

"It's okay." He hugged Xiao Chan even tighter, letting her head rest on his shoulder, and after a long time, he said: "Xiao Chan, do you remember the first time we met... It was when I was hit by a brick, when I just woke up, what was I like?"

"I can't remember." Xiao Chan replied, and then said, "Actually... Husband was a little fierce at that time. Son-in-Law... was injured, and still wanted to go out, and then was fierce to me... I was a little scared."

"Hehe." Ning Yi patted her, "Don't worry, I'm fine. I'm just... thinking about some things."

Releasing the confused Xiao Chan and his crying son, Ning Yi walked inside. In the bedroom, Tan'er was writing something at the table. Seeing Ning Yi coming in with bloodstains on his body, she quickly greeted him: "Husband..." Before she could finish speaking, she was also hugged by Ning Yi and walked inside, eventually pressed on the bed. Ning Yi lay on her body, scaring her a lot: "Husband, what's wrong with you? What's wrong with you..." She thought that Ning Yi was injured on his back, and wanted to look. Ning Yi held her face in both hands, staring and smiling: "It's okay. Don't move."

"Uh... You... You are injured..."

Looking at each other, Tan'er was still a little flustered, but gradually became confused. Ning Yi looked at her for a while, then reached out to touch her eyes, nose, and lips, and then rested his head on her neck and sniffed for a while.

"Husband, what's wrong..." Tan'er asked softly.

"I encountered something." Ning Yi was still lying down, "I encountered an assassination on the way back, but that's not the main thing..."

"Those guys, for the disaster relief, right... I heard about it..."

"It's not." Ning Yi was silent for a moment, "Well, Tan'er, if... just this month, I marry Yunzhu into the house... and Jin'er, you..."

He hesitated, but Tan'er smiled softly, "You finally made a decision. Everyone is waiting, right..." This was her pretending to be open-minded, but she had indeed been preparing herself psychologically for a long time, so she wouldn't be too jealous.

"Also, after things here are settled, I want to take some time to go to Mount Lüliang."

Tan'er frowned at this, and after a moment, her expression was complicated, and she hit him gently with her hand: "Aren't you afraid... your body will collapse..."

"Hahahaha... It's not that kind of thing." Ning Yi laughed for a while, and said, "Juan'er, find someone to get me some hot water, I want to wash... there's blood on my body."

Juan'er, who was eavesdropping outside the door, replied timidly: "Oh." And ran away.

Ning Yi sat up, and Tan'er, freed from the shackles, could finally tidy up her clothes. She looked at Ning Yi suspiciously. She also understood Ning Yi's character, and it must have been something other than love affairs that he had encountered that caused such abnormality.

Ning Yi thought for a while: "I used to... always be a little repelled from doing long-term things..."

"...Uh?" Tan'er didn't understand.

"That's because I always thought of withdrawing after reaching a certain stage." He sighed, "But now it seems that there is no retreat for some things. After all... such an absurd thing..."

"I, I don't understand."

Ning Yi didn't answer any more, grabbed her hand and patted it, then patted it again, smiled at her, and the smile had become warm and kind: "In short, you have to accompany me."

Tan'er looked at him: "We... are husband and wife."

In the midst of confused yet understanding gazes, some things were decided. At this time, the sunlight was shining obliquely from the open doorway, and there was a unique slight chill in the air...

February, the second day.

****************

Qingming Festival.

Li Pin walked up the hillside outside Taiyuan City, looking at the many tombs in the wild, and the smoke rising from those burning paper money for their relatives.

At the edge of the forest in another place, a man named Cheng Zhouhai was wearing a blue robe and knelt on the grass, facing the direction he had chosen, bowing three times to those who had died in this famine. Accompanied by him was only the coldness of spring, with no witnesses.

At the pier, Shishi embarked on her journey with the large ship that was difficult to return to. Looking at the distant city,滩涂, and pier, tears streamed down her eyes. In this winter, she felt emotions she had never felt before. The people who died, those... the people they tried so hard not to die, but who still died, stayed on this land.

Next would be the spring famine. Small-scale disasters continued, and would continue until the new year's grain finally ushered in the harvest. During this period, people would continue to die one after another, but after the snow melted and the ice disappeared, the court's continued disaster relief and porridge distribution no longer had obstacles on the road. The grain price remained at eight taels per stone, no longer rising, but was still three times the usual price.

She had to go back.

Staying, there was only helplessness.

She wanted to go back and tell some people about her experiences.

The wind blew her hair on the boat.

Every year, the wind blows from spring, to summer, to autumn, to winter, again and again, never stopping. It blows away time, blows old the years, blows young people towards maturity, blows adults towards old age, and then blows the old people who have to leave their seeds of wisdom, hoping to pass them on to the next generation of children. People live, work, and inherit on the earth in this way.

This is another new year, and people feel the new year's peace and prosperity in the spring breeze. In the court, groups of people are high-spirited, planning long-term plans. The north is still in war, constant war. In that beacon of smoke, alternating are the rising sun of prosperity and the ominous afterglow.

This is the spring of the twelfth year of Jinghan in the Wu Dynasty.

The world is at peace.

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