Deep night.
Zhang Yuanqing sat cross-legged on the observation deck outside the Pill Chamber, the Luo Star Plate, cast in black iron and painted with a star chart in silver lacquer, resting on his knees. The celestial symbols rotated and changed continuously, like the world's operating code flashing repeatedly through his mind.
Each change represented a possible direction of the future. In the Star Official's understanding, the past was eternally fixed, the present was happening, and the future was filled with uncertainty.
The future held countless possibilities; a slight change in detail, a mistake in thought, could alter the course of the future.
Among them, the actions of common people, peddlers, and laborers had the least impact on the future's trajectory, while the thoughts and ideas of those in high positions were of paramount importance.
Therefore, Star Officials needed to use chess pieces to align the future's favorable developments with their expectations.
The core of the game between Star Officials lay in placing pieces; whoever had more pieces would be the winner.
Of course, besides the pieces, the overall trend was also important. The momentum of the world surged forward, and Star Officials also needed to play chess according to the trend of the world. Observing the stars was how they discerned the world's trend.
Forcing a reversal of the overall trend would lead to the death and demise of even the strongest Star Official.
The Southern Dynasty was currently facing the momentum of destruction, with rampant corruption among court officials, an empty national treasury, and the Northern Dynasty's army pressing the border.
In terms of the overall trend, Zhang Yuanqing was at a disadvantage. Fortunately, Linxia City had not fallen, and the Southern Dynasty still had a chance.
"The old thief claims to calculate all the secrets of heaven, and his level of star observation should not be bad. I have the Luo Star Plate, which at most puts me on par with him, but my advantage is the protection of dragon energy, and my own trajectory carries secrets."
"Some confidential actions must not be done by Zhi Congyou; they must be operated by Yin corpses. Furthermore, characters with high levels and shallow cause-and-effect relationships with the National Teacher, such as Gang Leader Duan," Zhang Yuanqing pondered in his heart.
At this moment, he heard a faint roar, the sound of resentful spirits and Yin corpses, audible only to Night Roamers.
Zhang Yuanqing's mind sharpened, and the celestial symbols before him shattered, forcing him out of the star observation state. Goosebumps rose on his skin.
"What is the National Teacher doing?" He turned his head to look at the source of the sound, squinting his eyes. This guy was indeed brewing something big.
Outside the capital city gates, ragged refugees gathered in twos and threes, their bodies hunched over, sitting on both sides of the official road.
They shivered in the thin morning frost. If the cold in the north was aggressive and domineering, then the damp cold in the south was like a bone-piercing knife.
Before death, it allowed you to experience a terrible pain, like a dull knife cutting flesh, lifeblood flowing away little by little, until death.
There were thousands of refugees outside the city, and the court did not allow them to enter the city, nor did they care for them.
Fleeing south after losing their homes, their only means of survival was the capital.
They eked out a living on the thin porridge given by the court, living one day at a time. When the cold winter arrived, the children and elderly among these refugees would die first. The younger ones might survive the harsh winter, but that did not mean they would receive help.
After the onset of winter, there would also be the iron cavalry and blades of the Northern Dynasty.
Despair, numbness, and pain enveloped the refugees outside the city. As the first ray of morning light shone into the city gate, it slowly opened.
The refugees outside the city looked towards the city gate. Hopeful light shone in their dim, numb eyes. The court's disaster relief porridge would be delivered in the morning, their only meal of the day.
After eating this meal, they would have the strength to dig up tree roots in the forest and dig up insects in the fields.
Amidst the eager gazes, a flatbed cart drove out of the city gate. On the cart were four large wooden barrels, with white steam emanating from the gaps in the barrel lids.
"Gulp." The sound of swallowing saliva rang out continuously. The refugees stood up one after another, and those who had not yet woken up were rudely awakened by their companions and family members.
These refugees, like wandering corpses in the wilderness, swarmed towards the city gate.
At this moment, another flatbed cart drove out behind the first, followed by a second, a third, and a fourth.
Finally, more than a hundred armored city defense soldiers emerged.
The locust-like refugees stopped in their tracks. There were too many carts, a full ten. This was not for them. In the past, there were at most three carts, filled with thin porridge, with each person only getting half a bowl. There would not be so many city defense soldiers maintaining order either.
Looking at the steam rising from the wooden barrels, the sound of continuous sniffing of the rich porridge fragrance and swallowing saliva grew louder.
Interspersed were the cries of children urging their parents to get food, but the pale-faced fathers and emaciated mothers cowered, afraid to step forward.
At this time, after the ten carts left the city, they did not continue forward but turned to the porridge shed under the city wall. A general on horseback rode forward and announced loudly to the crowd of refugees: "His Majesty understands the people's suffering and knows of your hardships. He has opened the granary for disaster relief and formulated new laws. From now on, the porridge in the porridge factory will have a standard of thickness. If chopsticks float, heads will fall."
With a crash, thousands of refugees surged towards the porridge shed. At the Heavenly Secrets Tower observation deck, in the east, the sun rose slowly.
Zhang Yuanqing leaned against the railing, gazing into the distance. The prosperous capital was still asleep. The outlines of the buildings were blurry. In the distance, the towering city walls separated thousands of refugees outside the city.
Just a wall away was the difference between heaven and hell.
Standing for a long time, a golden light pierced through the wall, transforming into the National Teacher, a man of immortal demeanor with flowing sleeves.
"National Teacher, these thousands of refugees outside the city are all citizens of the Southern Dynasty, they are my people."
Zhang Yuanqing, with both hands on the railing, laughed and said, "Rescuing the people from fire and water is my bounden duty."
The National Teacher looked towards the city gate, his face showing a hint of gravity. He calculated for a few seconds, then said coldly: "Your Majesty, the ruler of a country, is engaging in petty theft!"
"Not so." Zhang Yuanqing raised his face and laughed, "Under the heavens, there is no land that is not the king's; on the shores of the land, there is no subject who is not the king's. What is wrong with taking one's own grain to relieve the victims of the disaster? Oh right, the National Teacher can also notify Zheng Wenhan to investigate the theft of grain from the rice merchants in the city. It's just that this document will be submitted in a few days. The National Teacher didn't foresee this step?"
In Zhang Yuanqing's expectations, because he put his companion spirit moon into the gang warehouse last night and notified Sun Miaomiao to retrieve it, Sun Miaomiao's use of Night Roam meant that she had hidden protection.
The National Teacher did not answer. His lips moved, and the middle-aged Daoist priest outside the Pill Chamber transformed into starlight and disappeared.