Chapter 1 Deep Night

Late at night.

Zhang Yuanqing sat cross-legged on the observation deck outside the elixir room, the Da Luo Star Disk, cast in black iron and painted with a starmap in silver lacquer, resting on his lap. The celestial phenomena rotated and changed constantly, like the world's operating code flashing through his mind again and again.

Each change represented a possible direction for the future. In the cognition of a Star Official, the past is eternally unchanging, the present is what is happening, and the future is full of uncertainty.

The future has countless possibilities; a change in a detail, a mistake in a thought, can alter the course of the future.

Among them, the actions of ordinary people, the peddlers and pawns, are the least valuable and cannot influence the future's trajectory. The thoughts and ideas of those in high positions are crucial.

Therefore, Star Officials need to use chess pieces to ensure that the good direction of the future unfolds according to their expectations.

The core of the game between Star Officials lies in placing pieces. Whoever has more pieces will be the winner.

Of course, besides the pieces, the overall trend is also important. The trend of the world rolls forward, and Star Officials also need to play chess according to the trend. The art of star gazing is used to see the trend of the world.

Forcibly reversing the general trend will lead to the death of even the strongest Star Official.

The Southern Dynasty is currently facing the trend of destruction, with rampant corruption among court officials, an empty national treasury, and the Northern Dynasty army pressing the border.

From the perspective of the overall trend, Zhang Yuanqing is at a disadvantage. Fortunately, Linxia City has not fallen, and the Southern Dynasty's fate still lingers.

"The old thief claims to have calculated all the secrets of heaven, and his level of star gazing should not be bad. I have the Da Luo Star Disk, so at most I'm on par with him, but my advantage is that I have the protection of dragon energy, and my own trajectory comes with secrecy."

"Some confidential matters must not be done by You Cong, but by Yin Shi (corpses), and also by those with high levels whose karmic ties with the National Preceptor are not deep, such as Gang Leader Duan," Zhang Yuanqing pondered in his heart.

At this moment, he heard a faint roar in his ear, the sound made by Wraith Spirits and Yin Shi, which only Night Watchers could hear.

Zhang Yuanqing's mind jolted, the celestial phenomena in front of him shattered, and he was forced to withdraw from the star gazing state. Goosebumps rose on his skin.

"National Preceptor, what are you doing?" He turned his face to look at the source of the sound, narrowed his eyes. This guy was indeed brewing a big move.

Outside the capital city gate, refugees in tattered clothes gathered in twos and threes, sitting hunched over on both sides of the official road.

Shivering in the thin morning frost, the weather was getting colder and colder. If the cold in the north was strong and domineering, then the damp cold in the south was like a bone-piercing knife.

Before death, it allows you to experience a terrible pain, like being slowly sliced by a dull knife, until death arrives.

There were thousands of refugees outside the city. The imperial court did not allow them to enter the city, nor did they care about them.

Fleeing south, after losing their homes, the only livelihood was the capital.

Barely surviving on thin porridge doled out by the court, they could only live one day at a time. When the cold winter arrived, the children and the elderly among these refugees would be the first to die. The younger ones might survive the harsh winter, but that did not mean they would receive help.

After the onset of the cold winter, there were also the Northern Dynasty's iron cavalry and blades.

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 all looked towards the city gate. A pair of dim, numb eyes lit up with hope. The court's disaster relief porridge would be delivered in the morning. This was their only meal of the day.

After eating this meal, they would have the strength to dig tree roots in the forest and dig up insects in the fields.

Among the pairs of eager eyes, 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.

"Gulu..." The sound of swallowing saliva resounded continuously. The refugees got up one after another, and those who had not yet woken up were rudely awakened by their companions and family members.

These refugees, wandering like walking corpses in the wilderness, swarmed towards the city gate.

At this moment, another flatbed cart drove out behind the first flatbed cart, followed by the second, third, and fourth carts.

Finally, more than a hundred armored city defense soldiers walked out.

The locust-like refugees stopped one after another. There were too many of them, a full ten carts. This was not for them. In the past, there were at most three carts, filled with thin porridge, and each person could only get half a bowl. There would never be so many city defense soldiers maintaining order.

Looking at the steam rising from the wooden barrels, smelling the rich aroma of the porridge, the sound of swallowing saliva became even louder.

Interspersed with 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 came forward and said loudly to the refugee crowd: "His Majesty understands the people's conditions and knows your suffering, so he has opened the granary for disaster relief and formulated a new law. From now on, the porridge in the porridge factory will be of a certain consistency. If chopsticks float, heads will roll!"

With a rustling sound, thousands of refugees swarmed towards the porridge shed. Outside the Tianji Building, on the observation deck, in the east, the sun rose slowly.

Zhang Yuanqing leaned on the railing and looked into the distance. The prosperous capital was still asleep. The outlines of the buildings were blurred, and the towering city walls in the distance separated the thousands of refugees outside the city.

A wall apart, was the difference between heaven and hell.

After standing for a long time, a golden light pierced through the wall, transforming into the National Preceptor, with a fairy-like demeanor and fluttering sleeves.

"National Preceptor, these thousands of refugees outside the city are all citizens of the Southern Dynasty, they are my citizens."

Zhang Yuanqing held the railing with both hands and smiled: "Rescuing the people from fire and water is my bounden duty."

The National Preceptor looked at the city gate and his face revealed a hint of solemnity. He pinched his fingers for a few seconds and said coldly: "Your Majesty, the ruler of a country, is engaged in petty theft!"

"Not so." Zhang Yuanqing raised his face and smiled, "Under the whole sky, there is no land that is not the king's; on the shores of the whole land, there is no subject who is not the king's. What is wrong with taking one's own grain to relieve the victims? Oh right, National Preceptor can also notify Zheng Wenhan to investigate the theft of grain from the rice merchants in the city. But this document will be submitted later. Could it be that the National Preceptor did not foresee this step?"

In Zhang Yuanqing's expectation, because he put his companion spirit, Yue, into the gang warehouse last night and notified Sun Miaomiao to take it out, Sun Miaomiao's use of Night Wanderer was equivalent to having secret protection.

The National Preceptor did not answer. His lips moved, and the middle-aged Daoist priest outside the elixir room turned into starlight and dissipated.